Tuesday, March 20, 2012


It's no secret.
The last 2 years have been a tough transition for our family.
Real tough.

Not only did we add a child to our family 10 years after our first,
but Miles came to us with a whole lot of developmental issues.

Most days, I am overwhelmed.
We have to laugh just to keep from crying, which only works part of the time.

Not only is Miles two, but he has this super crazy strong-will. His communication skills are that of an infant, which results in him living in a constant state of frustration. He has no sense of personal safety and a very high pain tolerance (not a good combination). He has no social skills and so many sensory issues, it's impossible to know if he's acting out or seeking sensory input. And somehow, we are suppose to parent him while being conscience of building a healthy attachment/bond, building trust, and give him a sense of felt safety. (Help me Dr. Purvis!)

There were some days in the last year that, if you asked how Miles was doing, I would immediately start crying. Everything in me wants to just answer... 'great!' But 'good', 'ok' or 'same' seems like the nicest thing I can say.

Miles has this gift of making even the simple things difficult.

It's not that he hates his car seat, this is what it looks like when we change a diaper, get dressed, get into a shopping cart/stroller/highchair, etc. And to top it off, it's usually accompanied with pinching, hitting, slapping, biting, scratching, kicking, and whatever else he can manage. He is abnormally strong, which makes it nearly impossible for me to look like I have an ounce of control of my toddler when I am in public. Talk about tearing away at your pride! I can say that, thanks to Miles, I genuinely could care less what people in Target think of me, my parenting skills, and/or my screaming two year old.

Look at this picture that was taken at Keith's parents over Christmas...

Cute right?!
Now look again, but this time, look at the sweet little guy in my arms.
He's biting me.
Keith, from in the garage, heard me 'talking' rather loudly from inside the house one day telling Miles, IN CASE YOU DIDN"T KNOW, NO ONE LIKES TO BE BIT! Not my best parenting moment, but it's true. I hate being bit!

I have to constantly remind myself what my job is.
Everyday, I am given countless opportunities to be Jesus to a broken two year old.

To love him unconditionally.
To intercede on his behalf.
To support him and help him be all he was designed to be.
To teach him to look to me for comfort when he is hurt or sad.
To respond to him in a way that shows him that nothing he can do will make me love him less.

Miles is my son.
He is chosen.
He is wanted.
He is special.
He is dearly loved.

The last 2 years haven't been easy.
If I knew then what I know now, I would do it all over again.
He is so worth it!

We are claiming Jeremiah 1:5 for Miles this year, which says "Before I formed you in your mother's body I chose you. Before you were born I set you apart." We believe that God not only made Miles, and chose Miles, but He has very special plans for his life and we feel very honored to be part of His plan.

A good day for me may mean I didn't get the breath knocked out of me while changing a diaper, or I didn't have to pry Miles' hands open to get the hair he pulled out of my head, or maybe it was a good day because my reflexes were quick and the toy that he tried to whack me up side the face with today didn't make contact, or I didn't get bit while trying to comfort him.

I wish I were kidding.
I'm not.
Not even a little.

But, I am very happy to tell you we have had twelve, count them, TWELVE straight 'really, really, good' days. I would even be willing to say that a couple of them may have actually been 'great!'