tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275130212024-03-23T13:30:11.627-05:00I Never ImaginedAshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.comBlogger1014125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-55917470115179094462015-05-20T00:00:00.000-05:002015-05-20T00:00:09.691-05:00Sweet Milestones<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Although we home school, Jackson has also been enrolled in an arts school one day a week. The students spent yesterday sharing their work and creations in a showcase of sorts. As I sat there with tears in my eyes (trying to hold in the sobs as to not become a spectacle), I wondered if I would ever grow accustomed to seeing Jackson accomplish "normal" tasks. It doesn't matter what it is . . . riding a bike, fixing his own drink, bathing himself, hitting a baseball, reading a book . . . I sit in awe of this child that God has made. Made so smart and able. Made so coordinated and quick.</div>
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It. Is. A. Miracle. I refer to the miracle of Clayton's life so often, but how wonderful is the miracle of my typical child's life?! God's handiwork right before my eyes! And it is sweet. Such a precious gift that I hope I never get used to.</div>
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So yes. The absence of so many milestones in Shawn and Clayton's life may have made me the nutty behind the scenes mom. The nutty baseball mom. The mom who just knows that her kid is the star of the show (isn't he?!) But I don't apologize. I've waited too long for these moments. From the moment I saw twin boys on the ultrasound screen, I visualized all of these moments. Twelve years I've waited, and I'm eating up every minute of watching Jackson blossom into a "typical" little boy. </div>
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<i>I am a tiger.</i></div>
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<i>A big wild animal.</i></div>
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<i>Orange, black, and white.</i></div>
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<i>I am mean, and I ROAR!</i></div>
AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-47912692115219122892015-04-19T17:00:00.000-05:002015-04-20T09:45:10.700-05:00Lessons From Jonah<div style="text-align: justify;">
As I prepared for and taught the last two lessons in my middle school Bible study class, I found that I was probably the one in the room learning the most profound lessons. This came as a surprise considering I've heard the story of Jonah countless times over the years. And to be honest maybe I found myself feeling a little bored with the same old story of Jonah who didn't do what God told him to do the first time. </div>
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Maybe it's not as simple as following God's instructions. Maybe there are some other lessons we can learn from Jonah. </div>
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<i><b>When the Storm Comes, Your Location Matters</b></i></div>
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God's direct instructions to Jonah were to travel to Niniveh to cry out against the wickedness in that city. (Jonah1:1) Jonah didn't just <i><b>not</b></i> go to Niniveh. He went in the complete opposite direction. He took off across the sea to Tarshish. When the massive storm hit, Jonah found himself on a boat in the middle of horribly rough seas, subject to any wind that would blow him. He probably would have still encountered the storm if he had been traveling to Niniveh, but it would have been incredibly easier to weather on land than on sea. We will all face periods of uncertainty and unrest in our life. When the storm begins to rage, we must make sure it finds us anchored on solid ground--right in the middle of God's chosen path for us--instead of floating aimlessly in the sea of life. </div>
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<b><i>Sometimes Our Shelter is in the Belly of a Whale</i></b></div>
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"Why me, Lord?" </div>
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We've all been there at least once. Heck, I spend half my time there! But do you ever find out after the fact that what you were going through was actually far less than what <i><b>it could have been</b></i>? We all read the story of Jonah and feel downright sorry for him, getting swallowed by a mighty fish and all. However, the Bible says Jonah was at sea in the belly of the fish for three days and three nights. Three days and three nights! Would it have even been possible for Jonah to survive treading water/swimming in the sea for 72 hours?! Yes, God could have blessed him with supernatural strength to swim that long, but the Bible says that instead, the Lord <i>PROVIDED</i> a large fish to swallow Jonah.<i> </i>(Jonah 1:17) The belly of that fish was probably terrifying. . . lonely. dark. stinky! But given his choices, it was also a place of solace. A haven of rest, if you will. Only there was he able to put his focus back on what mattered--only there was he able to ask for forgiveness and move forward in the direction God would have him to go. And only there was he protected from a much worse reality--surviving for three days in a tumultuous and restless sea, all on his own strength. </div>
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God chooses to protect us in any number of ways. Sometimes that protection comes in dark and lonely places. But those dark and lonely places just might be God's way of insulating us from the chaos of a situation we wouldn't be capable of handling on our own. </div>
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<b><i>Our Decisions Affect the Future of Those Around Us</i></b></div>
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Jonah avoided Niniveh for some very good reasons. The city was the capital of the enemy country (Assyria) of Israel. It was extremely likely Jonah would not be welcomed with open arms, and even more likely that they wouldn't appreciate a message from God calling them wicked people. Jonah was sure he would be rejected. Despite his misgivings, when Jonah finally did make it to Niniveh, he didn't even have to walk but a third of the city before the king declared a fast in the hopes that the Lord would be persuaded to change his mind. Jonah's actions and eventual obedience had a direct effect on the people of Niniveh. Because he chose to obey God and venture into the city with God's message, they were able to change the Lord's mind with their <i><b>own</b></i> actions. Jonah's right decision directly affected the Ninivites ability to make the right decision as well. </div>
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We are in this position every single day. Our decisions as Christians directly impact those in our circles of influence. Our decisions must empower those around us to in turn make the right choices. </div>
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I'm praying I remember these lessons when I'm tempted to escape God's plans, or when I find myself isolated and lonely. And I'm definitely praying that I make the kinds of choices that will be a positive influence on my peers, friends, and loved ones. </div>
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<b><i><br /></i></b>AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-78828277011539836682015-03-27T00:00:00.000-05:002015-03-27T00:00:04.249-05:00In Which He Sees Himself<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Since Clayton has become independent in movement, I've noticed a trend when he finds a full length mirror or reflection of himself in a window. </div>
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It's another one of those developmental things I suppose he never got to fully explore. We definitely had all the little baby toys with mirrors, and his therapists have used them as motivational and teaching tools, but he's never really been able to totally soak in his own reflection. </div>
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But I wonder if it's more than that? I wonder what he thinks as he sits in front of a hotel mirror for over thirty minutes (and only moving because we had to leave). I wonder if he has the same questions we all have . . . the "whys?" and "why nots?" If so, I hope he doesn't dwell on it. I hope he looks in the mirror and sees potential in front of him. I pray he sees the odds stacked against him and declares silently that he will continue to overcome them all. </div>
AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-7244752061876351452015-02-18T00:00:00.000-06:002015-02-18T00:00:03.107-06:00Fish Out of Water<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j1jSvs4YzUc/VOQgunlIgtI/AAAAAAAAFRI/zdqm33iDkuA/s1600/photo-17.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j1jSvs4YzUc/VOQgunlIgtI/AAAAAAAAFRI/zdqm33iDkuA/s1600/photo-17.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a>During the week of Christmas we had a slightly larger than small plumbing leak that lead to pulling up the carpet in Clayton's room. And so the dominos began to fall. New carpet in Clayton's room lead to new carpet in the whole house, which of course in turn lead to new paint on all ceilings and walls. And while it all was definitely overdue, the whole process was a bit (and is still) overwhelming. We've always had a comfortable home with relatively nice things surrounding us, but I wouldn't say decorating is my forte'. Mainly because I'm over the top practical. If something is still working, then why do I need to update to the latest style or trend? (Don't tell anyone that the shower curtain we were using was the same one we had had since 1999. Because if I think about it, it's just slightly embarrassing that I haven't updated it before now). O_o </div>
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So here we sit in our freshly painted house with plush new carpet with virtually no accessories around us. All of our old stuff isn't right anymore and I go to the stores with specific things in mind and walk around like a lost puppy. I know some women would be right at home shopping for their home and finding the latest things they've seen on Pinterest, but I just wander around hoping something will magically show up in my hands that will look fabulous in my home. </div>
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Singing? Holding my own.<br />
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But this house thing has got me stumped! Blank walls and empty shelves/tables are begging me to fill them and it's just not happening yet. I hope to find inspiration soon because I definitely don't like the "just moved in" look we've got going on. </div>
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I guess it's back to Pinterest I go . . . :)</div>
AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-65833222757625637812015-01-20T11:00:00.000-06:002015-01-20T17:34:16.579-06:00What if the Lord Sees Good?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
I don't think I've kept it any secret that I struggle with the "whys?" of Clayton's condition. As parents, we feel like we've done what we are supposed to do to bring about healing. We've been proactive with traditional medicine, we've added the ancient medicine of essential oils, and we've prayed over him and had him prayed over more times than it's possible to count. We've done the whole reasoning with God thing----"Lord, if our unbelief is in the way, then what about those around us who are full to the brim with the faith that you will heal Clayton???" Oh, we have faith that Clayton will be healed; but to be honest, when you're in the trenches of day to day life with disability, you lose hope that the healing will be on this earth. </div>
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So when during his sermon the other day, my pastor said "If it's not good then God's not done!!!", I pretty much zoned in on that statement and didn't hear much of what else he said. </div>
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IF IT'S NOT GOOD, THEN GOD'S NOT DONE. </div>
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At first, the hope welled up inside of me. Wow! God would not leave us hanging! The healing of Clayton's physical issues is just around the corner! </div>
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And then. </div>
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And then. </div>
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And then this thought occurred to me: What if God sees Clayton's condition as perfection? What if God looks at Clayton and sees nothing but good? </div>
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He sees a child who garners attention like no typical child can. </div>
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He sees a child who has blessed countless people with his smile and spirit.</div>
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He sees a child who is full of <i>JOY</i> despite his circumstances.</div>
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He sees a child who is exposing non-believers to the love of the Father and the promise of eternal life in Heaven.</div>
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He sees a child so in tune to the Holy Spirit that it's as if he has a sixth sense about the struggles of others. </div>
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He sees a child doing more work for the Kingdom in his little red chair than some of us adults all combined together will ever do. </div>
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He sees good. </div>
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He sees good.</div>
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He. Sees. Good. </div>
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AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-15014506091928567182015-01-13T00:00:00.000-06:002015-01-13T00:00:03.554-06:00Finding Motivation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
One of the new "systems" we've implemented is simply a remix of an old one. A couple of years ago, this little chart was my key to keeping Clayton on task during school time and it was literally the only reason he would even pay attention to "school" things. Last spring, I was incredibly lax on keeping up with his "stickers" and our then system fell by the wayside. </div>
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I hadn't given it much thought until the other morning when I found myself saying to Jackson the <i>same things</i> I say to him every. single. morning. At that moment, I thought to myself, "self, I'm pretty much tired of repeating myself!!" So that afternoon, our new reward system was born.</div>
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Since Jackson would play the WiiU 24-7 if we would let him, I decided to use that as his reward. If he does the first four things on the list without being told then he earns the corresponding amount of minutes on the WiiU. If I have to remind him constantly, then he doesn't earn the minutes. If he participates in lessons and is a good helper with a great attitude throughout the day, then he also earns more time to play. We're only two weeks in, but he is already figuring out what he can do to maximize his earnings and has even started saving his time instead of using it on each day. My main hope is it works as a motivator long enough for some of these things to become habits instead of "chores."</div>
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Clayton's list isn't near as long, but he was in desperate need of some positive motivation as well. Mornings with him had become nightmares. The transition from being in the bed to dressed and in his chair was a battle. But the promise of a check mark that counts towards driving Daddy's truck has turned his attitude completely around and he's been almost helpful when I'm getting him dressed and up out of the bed. Avoiding the tears from both of us has been a welcome change! <br />
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So far so good . . . I'm praying this keeps them on the straight and narrow for a long time to come!AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-88778195949083859812015-01-08T00:00:00.000-06:002015-01-08T00:00:01.493-06:00Unlikely Assignment<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ms. Beth. Every church has one. An elderly saint who is the ultimate prayer warrior. Her days of rushing around in heavily scheduled life have been replaced by slow days of close communion with the Father. I remember hearing her story once of how she awoke in the middle of the night and knew that it meant she was to pray for a certain person. Wow. How extraordinary to be pulled out of deep sleep to intercede for someone! </div>
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The importance of personal prayer has become more and more evident to me over the past few years, but it still doesn't come easy for me. I'm not eloquent . . . my words are usually closer to beggar's words. And the act of personal prayer time is usually hard labor for me. That's why it has come as a complete surprise that the Father has literally been pulling a "Ms. Beth" on me! These last few months have been hard ones for several that I love, and for some, their lives have literally been on the line. I've woken up night after night, wide awake with those people's names clear in my mind.</div>
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Must. Pray. Now.</div>
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I suppose the Lord is teaching me that there will be no rest until some of their situations are resolved. And if that means I wake up night after night and know I'm supposed to be praying for a certain person, then that is what I do! </div>
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I doubt prayer intercession will ever be one of my "spiritual gifts," but I'm learning that God can use even the most unseasoned pray-er . . . one who stumbles over her words, gets distracted, and begs and pleads as a means of communication. And if the Lord can hear and use my meager prayers, then he can use anyone's. </div>
AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-62546220318854452082015-01-05T00:00:00.000-06:002015-01-05T00:00:03.035-06:00A New Year, New Focus<div style="text-align: justify;">
A new year always brings the chance to refocus on neglected areas of our lives, and I welcome the chance here at the start of 2015. In fact, for the last couple of months, I've been trying to begin the process of getting my "ducks" in a row for putting new "systems" into place. Our house will never be fully clear of clutter, but I've slowly been ridding myself of extra stuff in the last few months; and with the start of a new year, a new lists of clutter hotspots are on the agenda. With this new focus on systems and being more productive, it was only right that my word of the year for 2015 correspond with this focus. Last year, <a href="http://ineverimagined.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-year-2014.html">my word was all about spiritual growth</a>, and I do believe I succeeded in that area of my life during 2014. But this year is all about the practical. All about making my everyday simpler, and at the same time fuller. </div>
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The word of the year 2015 for me will be <i>STREAMLINE.</i></div>
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Streamline my belongings, my time, my commitments, etc. You name it, I want to streamline it. Granted, I don't expect to become Martha Stewart (who would want to anyway?!), but I do expect to make real progress this year on simplifying some things. Wish me luck!!</div>
AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-54498247146480985242014-12-25T00:00:00.000-06:002014-12-25T00:30:15.061-06:00Merry Christmas 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-16574317226797922812014-08-10T00:00:00.000-05:002014-08-10T00:00:00.463-05:00Happy Birthday to Clayton!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LLbOGGkG7XI/U-b2i3nCIcI/AAAAAAAAFJQ/FRMzhHeH1Yc/s1600/IMG_5393.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LLbOGGkG7XI/U-b2i3nCIcI/AAAAAAAAFJQ/FRMzhHeH1Yc/s1600/IMG_5393.jpg" height="640" width="425" /></a></div>
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It is truly a miracle as we celebrate another year of life for Clayton! Eleven years of watching him grow and defy the odds and predictions. Eleven years of his infectious laugh and sweet, intuitive spirit. It is a complete joy to watch God's plan for his life unfold. I can't wait to see what miracles occur in his life over the next coming year. </div>
AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-68618432791553121902014-07-28T00:00:00.000-05:002014-07-28T00:00:10.931-05:00Photographer in Training<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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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. <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oeq64udxU1Y/U9XPyluBmFI/AAAAAAAAFI0/Qt7UxS3jJOw/s1600/IMG_1035-2web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oeq64udxU1Y/U9XPyluBmFI/AAAAAAAAFI0/Qt7UxS3jJOw/s1600/IMG_1035-2web.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a></div>
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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. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OruIsebyc7c/U9XPqiKd-5I/AAAAAAAAFIo/L7KpMyjRn8Y/s1600/IMG_7004web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OruIsebyc7c/U9XPqiKd-5I/AAAAAAAAFIo/L7KpMyjRn8Y/s1600/IMG_7004web.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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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. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PPO6oP6vLOI/U9XPpKG0pZI/AAAAAAAAFIg/JYaknwcD8NM/s1600/IMG_6919web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PPO6oP6vLOI/U9XPpKG0pZI/AAAAAAAAFIg/JYaknwcD8NM/s1600/IMG_6919web.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>(Ignore the road weary look in this last one!)</i></div>
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I think he has a bit of potential, but I'm his Momma of course. What say you? :)</div>
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<br />AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-87769848986540472932014-07-02T12:00:00.000-05:002014-07-02T13:57:16.231-05:00I'm Tired<i>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><br />
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I am tired. <br />
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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 <i>hard</i>, 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. <br />
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Anything is endurable for a season. You think to yourself, "I got this, it's only for <i>X </i>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. <br />
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I am tired of something as simple as jumping in the car and running to the store being an <i>ordeal</i>. 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. <br />
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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?!)<br />
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I am <i>SICK</i> 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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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.<br />
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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. <br />
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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 <i>something</i> that reminds me that He is working it out. My mind knows He is, but my heart simply isn't feeling it right now. <br />
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<br />AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-71135772597293808742014-06-03T00:00:00.000-05:002014-06-03T00:00:06.833-05:00My Big Five Year Old<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I can't even believe that it's been five years since this precious boy came into our lives. So cliche', but SO TRUE! He is smart beyond his years and I'm in awe each day at how the Lord created such a special and unique child. In fact, he "designed" his birthday cake this year and described in detail to the bakery how he wanted it to look. He was pretty stoked when he saw the final product . . . "IT'S AWESOME!!"</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rEpmQrqyz3g/U41BkieFthI/AAAAAAAAFGY/jnoPzvIcZ3k/s1600/IMG_4152web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rEpmQrqyz3g/U41BkieFthI/AAAAAAAAFGY/jnoPzvIcZ3k/s1600/IMG_4152web.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>"Momma, do you want to know why I was smiling when everyone was singing to me? I was saying 'thank you' to everyone for coming to my party."</i></div>
AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-31038634667347737102014-05-11T18:00:00.000-05:002014-05-11T18:11:42.180-05:00Mother's Teachers<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Mother's Day is a tough one for me. And the tears have definitely flowed this week as I've reflected on my years as a mother and the lives of my babies. However, today the tears seemed to have dried up and I'm considering how blessed I am to have such inspirational little teachers in my life. </div>
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Shawn taught me that I can indeed survive "the worst thing." He also taught me that life is short, and if his two week lifespan can be a witness to God's love and mercy, then what am I going to do with my many <i>years</i> on this earth? It's up to me not to waste away in grief and despair, but to push forward in the hope of Heaven.</div>
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Clayton is a daily teacher of perseverance and acceptance. He is truly one of the happiest human beings I know. We all look and think "how horrible, he can't walk, he can't eat, etc." But the truth is, he has taken his lot in life and learned to live to the fullest with what the Lord has given him. We should all become better at that. </div>
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Jackson has taught me that it wasn't my fault. His life is proof that I can birth a typical child and that I'm not some freak of nature that can't do it right. And even if that isn't important to anyone else, it's been a major source of healing for me. Moreover, my daily walk with Jackson is continually teaching me that I need to reach higher and strive for holier living, because without the help of the Holy Spirit, mothering a headstrong four year old can drain and stretch me to my limit. </div>
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I can only hope that I become a faster learner than I've sometimes been in the past. That little bit of stubbornness I fight in Jackson seems to have come honestly. I pray that their teaching of me evolves into me becoming better and better at setting a Christ-like example in our home. </div>
AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-83690898046079689242014-05-09T00:00:00.000-05:002014-05-09T10:54:03.345-05:00Triggering Event<div style="text-align: justify;">
So I don't know if I've hidden it well or not, but this whole Tornado Event on April 27th has thrown me for an emotional loop. Which sounds so selfish when I actually say it out loud. Here I sit in my comfortable home, my babies and husband snoozing the night away; while the victims of the tornados have no home to be in and some will never have their loved ones in the next room again. </div>
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The shear amount of grief overtakes me when something tragic like this happens. It's as if the scab of my own wound is ripped off once again as I'm filled with empathy for these victims.</div>
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No, I've never had all of my material things virtually wiped off the face of the earth.</div>
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But I do know the feeling that comes with Life As You've Planned It suddenly going completely off course.</div>
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The feeling of standing at the crossroads and having to decide--will this swallow me whole or will I overcome? </div>
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<i>The feeling of having your heart completely emptied so that it can be filled to overflowing with God Himself. </i></div>
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My heart goes out to these families who have a long journey ahead. The long journey to a "new normal." If there even is such a thing. Because here I am ten years out and I'm still obviously searching for a way to navigate around the pain.</div>
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But I just don't think it can be avoided sometimes.</div>
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So I find myself hitting it head on and crying the tears.</div>
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Again. </div>
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Eventually cycling back into the routines of life as the wound begins to heal over once more. </div>
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<i><br /></i>AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-936754287593992272014-04-23T00:00:00.000-05:002014-04-23T00:00:10.332-05:00A Strange Kind of Comfort ZoneMy Grandfather has been hospitalized over the last week and a half. And tonight as I drove away from a visit, I had one of those epiphanies that has really always been there, but it only then came to the surface of my brain.<div>
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I am more comfortable in a hospital setting than I will ever be in a mall shopping for clothes, or even a grand party celebrating some societal milestone. And to take it even one step further, a funeral home is even more comfortable to me than a Junior League reception would ever be. [Which is probably why I've never been invited nor inquired about Junior League membership . . .] </div>
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<a href="http://ineverimagined.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-never-imagined-story-beginning-anyway.html">My baptism by fire into the world of hospitals and dying children</a> has given me a strange perspective on the medical world and the reality of death itself. Hospitals don't scare me in the least. I walk in and I speak the language. I know how to get something done if it isn't. I know how to sit and be until the resolutions come. It's never easy, that is for sure. But a learned skill nonetheless . . . one that only comes with plenty of practice and repetition. </div>
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I don't even know what weird category of person this trait puts me into, but I'm pretty positive it falls under the Unique But Awkward classification. </div>
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And that's something I'm getting more and more used to these days. :)</div>
AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-364905978910573552014-04-17T00:00:00.000-05:002014-04-17T00:00:04.443-05:00Life is Happening<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well, life is happening and that means the blog gets neglected more and more. It's still my venue for sharing when I finally get around to doing so, and I for sure wanted to share the video of Clayton's latest play. This play didn't go as well, in that Clayton noticed his Granny sitting on the front row and was so nervous and emotional, that he broke out in a sob! He then cried for my Grandmother and got fixated on her not being there. And even though I was bummed that he didn't say his lines, he did get some laughs from the audience <a href="http://ineverimagined.blogspot.com/2012/11/stole-show.html">when he blurted out his famous "I'M HOT.</a>" Another new famous line I didn't get on tape was his response to Ms. Lynne who was trying to console him and called him "Baby Doll." He quickly yelled back, "DON'T CALL ME BABY DOLL!"</div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/xcUPEFo4-QU" width="640"></iframe><br />
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Major props to his helper Kylie who didn't let the meltdown phase her one bit! </div>
AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-4193343689461264892014-02-20T00:00:00.000-06:002014-02-20T16:03:42.260-06:00Forward Progress<div style="text-align: justify;">
A year ago, we were at our wit's end with Clayton and his lack of PT progress. He had not made any gains in a few years, and his attitude was less than stellar. He was being hateful with his therapist and ending up in time out instead of completing therapy. I spent two meetings at the clinic crying because I was so embarrassed by his behavior, but at a loss as to how to help him with his frustrations. </div>
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In July we started giving him essential oils and in November, I started giving him <a href="http://www.youngliving.com/">Young Living's</a> blended juice, Ningxia Red, which contains wolfberries and many essential oils. We also renewed our prayers as we charted this new course of treatment. He's been on an uphill climb ever since. He just keeps doing better and better and most importantly, is <i><b>MOTIVATED</b></i> to participate in therapy! That in itself improves the sessions 100%! </div>
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He has really been working hard on transferring himself to a bench from his chair, and yesterday I was able to see him do it virtually by himself. Reesha's hand was only there as a spot, and he was doing most of the work. Granted, this was the fifth or sixth time he had done it, so by the time I arrived, he was pretty pooped. But I was still impressed with just how far he's come in his attitude and his strength! What a difference a year makes. Can't wait to see what the Lord has in store for Clayton over the next year! <br />
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*You should be seeing a video of Clayton in PT here . . . some people are seeing a video from a couple of years ago of my brother and I singing. Not sure where it's coming from since it is on my SIL's YouTube channel. ??? </div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/5YehQOHf47c" width="640"></iframe>AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-66323773823908156812014-01-27T00:00:00.000-06:002014-01-27T00:00:07.267-06:00Be Careful When You Fast<div style="text-align: justify;">
Seriously.</div>
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Who knew that on the first day of my fourth annual 21 day fast, the Lord would hit me with an idea so out of the blue that I shook it off, thinking surely he must be mistaken?</div>
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For a few months now, our middle school class at church has been without a teacher. And in that period, they've been floating back and forth between helping with the smaller kids and attending older youth classes (and feeling extremely out of place---there's a big difference between a fifth grader and a twelfth grader). I'm close to a couple of these kiddos, and I could almost feel their sense of "I'm lost!" as I watched them at church week after week, but it never once occurred to me that I was the one that should do something about it. </div>
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On January 5th, I started a 21 day fast that I've done for the past four years. And boy was I surprised when I sat down in church that morning for the worship service . . . it was as if God Himself hit me over the head with a big banner: "MIDDLE SCHOOLERS."</div>
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Come again?</div>
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Surely not me, Lord! Brian is helping in other areas and I would need his help--I would never be able to handle it myself! And then, of course, I was reminded of <a href="http://ineverimagined.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-year-2014.html">my own words</a>----<b>it's not for me to do alone</b>. And certainly not for me to do in my own strength. These kids needed a teacher. They needed someone to invest. Even more, I needed to be pushed in my ministries at church instead of always falling back to music as my primary way of serving. So after another week of fasting and making sure that I had really heard God correctly, I agreed to take on the fifth, sixth, and seventh graders at our church. And you know what? It. has. been. fabulous! Sure, we're still in the honeymoon phase, but the kids have shown up, they've participated, and we're all looking forward to building our little class into something quite special. </div>
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So be careful when you fast.</div>
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Or you just might get a little more than you bargained for.</div>
AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-53752456349083797182014-01-22T00:00:00.000-06:002014-01-22T00:09:24.336-06:00A Reason for Every Season<div style="text-align: justify;">
Seasons of interest definitely define certain time periods in our lives. As a growing teen, I was consumed with the cheerleading and water skiing season. Seasons in my adult life have included teaching, scrapbooking, and photography. (Not to mention the monster season of taking care of a critically ill child). And as per my personality, I have pursued each season with gusto, consuming all knowledge that I could about that particular subject. When I do something, I tend to do it all the way--sometimes a good thing, sometimes to a fault! No matter, when I see a particular season coming to an end, I find myself mourning and questioning all of the time and resources that I've poured into a particular hobby or job. </div>
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If you are only a blog reader of mine, and you don't know me personally or aren't friends with me on Facebook, you probably haven't realized that yet another season has started for me: the essential oil season. As I was struggling to find my spot in the professional photography world, I took the plunge into using <a href="http://www.youngliving.com/">Young Living Essential Oils</a> for our family. This was something that I had been looking into for a while, and when I bought our first oils in July, I had no idea the doors that were going to open up. At that point, I was praying for God to give me some kind of direction for my photography business, all the while not wanting to let it go because of all the time I've put into it. As we started using the essential oils and seeing positive results, I instinctively knew that this was a path that God was leading me down. But what of my other endeavors? Leave them behind? Try to do it all at once? </div>
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As I talked to Brian about the thought of saying goodbye to my photography business, he reminded me that all is not wasted. The skill set that I bring to the table when it comes to marketing essential oils is one of good photography and good design skills. Skills that create fliers for my classes that look like this: </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-soR4OXlpA8c/Ut9RTk_zDrI/AAAAAAAAFC4/BAB8_Z6ZgY4/s1600/keynote1-web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-soR4OXlpA8c/Ut9RTk_zDrI/AAAAAAAAFC4/BAB8_Z6ZgY4/s1600/keynote1-web.jpg" height="640" width="564" /></a></div>
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And while driving home from yet another one of these classes Monday night, I had a good laugh at God's perfect timing and planning. He does nothing by accident! Here I am, a user of essential oils. I've decided to sell them, which means I need to both market and teach others about their uses. Hmmm . . . does anyone else see where I'm going with this? </div>
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Me. </div>
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A former teacher. </div>
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Skilled in photography and design.</div>
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A heart for families like mine with health issues that modern medicine can't fix.</div>
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It's all being woven together in a beautiful design! All of the talents He has blessed me with coming together to spread the word about God's healing oils! Not a single moment spent in those other endeavors wasted. All that time spent scrapbooking, I learned so much about design and layout. Class after class and photo shoot after photo shoot, I'm an expert in shooting and editing. My teaching skills? They're a little rusty, I admit, but I've been teaching since I could walk and talk (just ask the stuffed animals and shoes that represented all of my students in my childhood classroom) and it's all coming back to me in an easy way. </div>
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Now. </div>
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I am still doing photography, but I've simplified a few things about the business that will free me up to spend some time working on these classes. I couldn't totally give it up yet, because I truly love "shooting people" and seeing their reaction when they see themselves in beautiful light and surroundings. </div>
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It is so unreal sometimes, these paths that God leads me down. Sometimes with resistance, but always with faith, I keep following where He leads. Where once I couldn't hardly breathe without having every moment planned to a tee, I now look forward to the next big thing He will push me towards. </div>
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<i>There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under the heavens . . . </i></div>
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<i>Ecclesiastes 3:1</i></div>
AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-1576741503379426142014-01-17T00:00:00.000-06:002014-01-17T00:00:05.346-06:00Grace . . . So How's That Workin' For Ya?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">So as predicted, the <i>un</i>graceful monster in me has already reared it's ugly head. I was doing good. And then, of course, LIFE happened. I've lost my cool a couple of times (nothing like the old days), but in both instances, as soon as they happened, I recognized them for what they were: a direct attack from Satan to steal my peace. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c; font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not as an excuse, but just as an example . . . <ahem> . . . this is a sliver of a conversation I had with a nurse at the hospital the other day that almost sent me over the edge. (I don't know why checking Clayton into a clinic that he has gone to at least four times a year for the last ten years is so darn hard!) </ahem></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #3e454c; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">[She was asking about his meds--the ones that the <i>other</i> clinic we had just visited an hour before had just asked about and checked in the computer].
<i>Her: Can you tell me his meds and doses?
Me: He is on 750 mg of Keppra twice a day
Her: Well, I need to know the ml so I can figure how many mg he is on.
Me: He is on 750 MG twice a day
Her: But how many ml?
Me: 7.5, but I'm telling you the actual dose so you don't have to worry about "figuring" anything
Her: What else?
Me: He is on Baclofen, 20 mg a day
Her: But how many ml do you give him? Because that will tell me how many mg
Me: I'M TELLING YOU the mg: TWENTY.
Her: Well, I have to know the ml so I can calculate the mg.
Me: (banging my head against the wall, FOR REAL, I Was), you asked me the DOSE, I told you the DOSE. If I told you the ml, that means nothing unless you know what the pharmacist compounded it at! I'm TELLING you the MG!
Her: Well, no offense to you, but not all parents know the dose, so I have to ask the ml.
Me: BUT I KNOW THE DOSE, so forget the ML!
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And she was super impressed that I knew how much his wheelchair weighed by heart. Seriously lady, this AIN'T MY FIRST WEIGH IN. Do you know how many times we've done this???
And in the ENT clinic, the triage nurse wanted me to list all of his surgeries (remember this is just an appt to get sleep study results). I said, "from birth?" She said yes. I said "let me dig out my official list and you can make a copy." "Well, I guess I can look them up in the system." NO DUH! WHY ARE THEY FOREVER TYPING INFO INTO THOSE COMPUTERS WHEN THEY NEVER REFERENCE THEM?</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">These grace-tests???</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3e454c;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I hope they aren't signs of how the whole year will go.</span></span>AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-10854031601651317502014-01-02T00:00:00.000-06:002014-01-02T01:34:14.961-06:00The Year 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
I've never been one for New Year's resolutions. At least the specific ones some people set. But I do always feel like a new year brings a clean slate, and a chance to recharge and restart. I might be behind the times, but this is the first year I've seen online conversations about "words" for the new year. I've never really given thought to christening a year of my life with a theme of sorts, but I admit the thought was intriguing. However, coming up with an actual word would be the trick! What if I picked something I couldn't live up to? What if I picked something completely contrary to the year God had planned for me? </div>
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But as we drove home last night from dinner, (a dinner that had been paid for by an anonymous stranger in the restaurant), the word became clear in my mind's eye. </div>
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Grace. </div>
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Sounds quite spiritual doesn't it? </div>
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There are only about a million problems with this being my word of the year . . . for starters, I'm less than perfect when offering grace to others. And grace<i><b>ful</b></i> is definitely not a word I would use to describe myself. In fact, as soon as I saw the word in my mind, I starting making excuses for why I could never live up to a "Year of Grace." </div>
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But therein lies the twist . . .</div>
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I'm not <i>supposed</i> to be doing it on my own! Living a grace filled life is not about me doing it in my own power, but<i> completely</i> about God's grace flowing through and out of me as I learn to dwell in the Holy Spirit. And is living <i>grace</i>fully contrary to God's will for my life? Certainly not! If I am to become more like Him, then receiving and giving grace is most definitely a part of that plan. </div>
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I admit that I am scared even putting this out there for anyone to see. I know those close to me will read this and about a month from now wonder where the grace is when my temper flares up. I'm praying that with God's help those moments will be non-existent, and that I will be able to truly focus on living <i>GRACE</i>-filled. </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 16px;"></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><i>This is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. </i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><i>1 John 4:10-11</i></span></div>
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AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-62593520536346308062013-12-27T00:00:00.000-06:002013-12-27T11:34:49.961-06:00Quotable Quotes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
I often worry about my kids becoming ungrateful, or indifferent to the blessings of Christmas. Thankfully, that situation has yet to arise, and they are still captivated by the magic of receiving packages full of surprises. Clayton is always glad to receive, but he isn't able to articulate his excitement quite like Jackson. Jackson's words were definitely some that I don't want to forget.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b8_hRvhUewk/Ur0OeOXWAVI/AAAAAAAAFCQ/9w5UPf2eIDI/s1600/photo-13-fb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b8_hRvhUewk/Ur0OeOXWAVI/AAAAAAAAFCQ/9w5UPf2eIDI/s400/photo-13-fb.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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When opening his long awaited red yo-yo: "YEEEEESSS! This is the BEST DAY EVER!!"</div>
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(Take note of gangsta Clayton in the background . . . ) :)</div>
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As he lay in bed facing Clayton (just after I removed his new glasses with windshield wipers), Clayton sneezed. As I helped Clayton with a kleenex, Jackson looked at me matter-of-factly: "See, Momma, that's why I needed to wear my glasses with the windshield wipers." </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qFnfvRwSnwE/Ur0Omx2GlPI/AAAAAAAAFCY/4CK6ayLGq4I/s1600/photo-11-fb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="481" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qFnfvRwSnwE/Ur0Omx2GlPI/AAAAAAAAFCY/4CK6ayLGq4I/s640/photo-11-fb.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Christmas morning:</div>
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"It just keeps getting better and better, Momma!" </div>
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"Santa has cool stuff."</div>
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"This is the BEST DAY EVER!!!"</div>
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"This is the WORST. DAY. EVER." (<i>Why, Jackson?</i>) "Because we have to wait for everything to charge." :(</div>
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And as we began another game on the new WiiU, "Let's do this thing!"</div>
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(I guess he considers himself an old pro after just 24 hours of Wii). </div>
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I'm sure there are some that I'm forgetting, but one thing's for sure--Jackson was one happy boy this Christmas, and he couldn't help but infect others with the excitement of opening gifts packaged especially for him. </div>
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<br />AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-53024147784132468102013-12-16T00:00:00.000-06:002013-12-16T00:00:12.980-06:00A Brother's Questions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
I can remember when I found out I was pregnant with Jackson. One of my main struggles was that he would never know his brother. That he would never realize what an impact Shawn had made on our lives. I was so wrong.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7ekoisSzeQw/Uq6N1Xim52I/AAAAAAAAFCA/bd6OdPganAM/s1600/IMG_1022web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7ekoisSzeQw/Uq6N1Xim52I/AAAAAAAAFCA/bd6OdPganAM/s640/IMG_1022web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Daily.</div>
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Daily this child speaks of his brother. It's not as if I discuss Shawn that much, it's just that when I do speak of him, I suppose it makes a giant impact on Jackson's heart. So many questions that he is trying to find answers to. And even in his own way, Jackson mourns the loss of his older brother. </div>
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<i>Where is my brother?</i></div>
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<i>Is Shawn in Heaven?</i></div>
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<i>Can Shawn come down and play with me?</i></div>
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<i>Will I be able to play with Shawn in Heaven?</i></div>
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<i>When is Shawn going to come down?</i></div>
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<i>I want Shawn to come down from Heaven!</i></div>
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<i>How old is Shawn? </i></div>
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<i>But how old is he in Heaven? </i></div>
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<i>We will see Shawn in Heaven?</i></div>
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<i>When can we go to Heaven?</i></div>
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I admit that these questions leave me a little baffled at times. I certainly don't know all of the ins and outs of life in Heaven and how long we will all live here on earth before joining Shawn in Heaven. </div>
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I suppose this talk of his brother who died has also influenced Jackson's proximity to death itself. He is very concerned that Brian or I will die without him. :( I hate that his little four year old mind wrestles with these worries. </div>
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I find strange comfort in some other conversations that we've had about Shawn . . . Jackson has told us repeatedly about being "in the boat with Shawn" and that Shawn wanted to hold him. He has also insisted in other instances that "Shawn wants to hold me!" I have no idea where this boat incident comes from (a dream?), but I find comfort in knowing that Jackson has somehow figured out that even from Heaven, his big brother Shawn loves him. Loves him and wants to hold him. </div>
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AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27513021.post-9710776317909979072013-11-22T00:00:00.000-06:002013-11-22T00:00:07.672-06:00No One is Immune<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
Yesterday, Clayton had dental work done in the operating room--a routine procedure for him. Routine except that for the first time in ten years, Clayton had to see a dentist other than Dr. Koonce, who happens to be The Best Pediatric Dentist Ever. He is on medical leave, and we are missing his sweet spirit; and this momma was a bit anxious about dealing with a new doc. My fears were unfounded, as it turned out, because the new Dr. Dentist was very pleasant and great to work with. </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lbbq9_jmfyM/Uo6aENvHFjI/AAAAAAAAFBw/mnJEbCB90fg/s1600/IMG_1086web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lbbq9_jmfyM/Uo6aENvHFjI/AAAAAAAAFBw/mnJEbCB90fg/s640/IMG_1086web.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
He officially won our hearts when he got TEARY-EYED while simply recounting his report from the procedure. He had only known Clayton for a couple of hours, and even he wasn't immune to how special this little boy is. He eventually cut our conversation short because he got misty eyed a second time talking about how taking care of patients like Clayton helps him sleep well at night. :) It seems Clayton impacted yet another life, simply by being Clayton.AshleyShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01039954885402518770noreply@blogger.com2