Sing, Sing a Song, make it anything

Scene from Elf:

Scene at our House:

Mom (from bottom of stairs in a sing song voice): "Good morning, good morning, good morning; it's time to wake up; it's the last day of school before break; it's your day to swim at the Plunge; it's time for breakfast so you don't miss the bus..."

Reid (from upstairs on his feet, entering bathroom): "Stop singing Mom."

The good news: Music motivates. He got up.

The bad news: I do not have a hit single on my hands.

Documenting Miracles

God is always answering prayer. If we are alert, acknowledge it and mark it down, we remember. If not, the results can be as fleeting as a spring zephyr. More than anything, I hope this blog chronicles what God is doing in Reid's life, ours, and others' around him as we journey through autism to the promised land.

Truly in the last few weeks, there is more happening than I have time to articulate. Our cups are overflowing with every imaginable flavor and scent of His presence. I long to turn the winsome face to face praise reports I give my Bible study girls from vapor into lasting ebenezers of His power and faithfulness. December is a swirl of goodness.

The school psychologist at Reid's school helped me out this time. He sent this email last week titled, "Prepare to Hit PRINT." It made our year! (names changed for privacy)

Greetings. I was on campus today doing some research with 4 different students. One of those was Reid and he is doing an outstanding job maintaining his attention and responding to different stimuli.

The more notable thing today was something that occurred during lunch. Another student, Billy, one Pioneer's more noisy students, was not in the best of spirits today. While eating his lunch in the cafeteria Billy would randomly shout and scream out loud, crying, covering his ears with his hands. It was pretty rough for everyone else in the room; Billy had been occasionally going off like this for over 2 hours.

Well, the various students in the room slowly started to filter out. Some had finished their lunches, others were moving away from Billy. After about 5 minutes into this one particular scream session over half a dozen students had left. Billy was the only one left at his table.

At that point, Reid slowly got up from where he was sitting. I was watching him; Reid tends not to to break down any further when other Pioneer students are having a rough time. In this case Reid sat down right next to Billy. Billy was yelling, then quiet, then yelling, putting his hands on his head, waving them in the air. Reid sat on Billy's left, and ate his lunch. He didn't move. Occasionally he would look at Billy, then at the table.

Well, Billy slowly started to calm down. First the hands stopped waving, then the voice got more quiet. Billy started to eat his food. He even reached in his lunch pack and pulled some other things out. After about 120 seconds he and Reid were sitting there together in silence.

Then, Reid left. He stood up, first pulled his right, then left foot over the bench of the "table," gathered his empty plate and cup, and headed to the door. All the other students were outside at this point, playing. No doubt Reid was heading to the couch in the courtyard where he likes to soak up the sun. I approached him as he got to the door.

"Reid," I asked. "Why did you do that?"

He looked at me for a moment, then at the floor. "Billy needed it," he said. Then he walked out.

I went over and sat next to Billy myself.

Cheers, Jake

Flooding my mind after I absorbed this, were verses I'd prayed in years prior all coming to fruition in seemingly a single stroke. The fullness of time. This boy, my boy, over whom I've prayed believing prayers that:

...he would grow in wisdom, favor and stature with God and man...

...that the Spirit of the Lord would be upon Him, a spirit of Wisdom and understanding, counsel and power, knowledge and the fear of the Lord...

...that he would be filled with the Holy Spirit...love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, faithfulness, and self-control (ohhh self-control)...

...that his little light would shine....

...that God would bless him indeed as he had Jabez, enlarge his territory and keep him from evil...

Lo and behold, He did, He had, and He was.

This joyful boy whose hands and head we've anointed with oil and Psalm 23 this month, is not only maintaining his own self-control but also coming alongside others to offer the ministry of presence.

How tender the heart of God to provide me with a detailed, objective glimpse through the keyhole to see the evidence of prayers He is answering.

The celebration widened as Jim shared with our church small group who had trudged the pits of April with us. Equally agog, they chimed in:

Tears….sitting on an airplane back from DC with a stranger next to me wondering what the heck is going on…it’s a family of Christ thing

Killer story…..i can say that reid has a similar effect on me when I hear him chanting in the background at our study. His presence and comments are one of the things that make the Moriarty house a home

Oh my. Joy. "...i think i'm feeling that feeling again..."

Goosebumps. And from Allie, "this is the kind of thing you hear about happening to other people, but not to us."

For this, I can honestly say, it's been worth the wait.

Top 10 Tuesday

Top 1o Things I Appreciate about Reid's New School

10. their intentional "Empathy, Invitation, Plan" approach

9. a preponderance of male staff (which is a subtle but critical component to Reid's adolescence and my husband's engagement)

8. allowance for some naturally occurring elbowing and shoulder tapping (who wants to raise a robot)

7. the "practice makes permanent" (not perfect) ideal

6. true partnership with parents

5. daily interaction with the local community (this is valuable even when it, especially when it breaks down)

4. a careful, positive use of the power of words to affect behavior

3. the cohesive team approach of the staff and students

2. a palpable acceptance kids can feel (which fundamentally enables them to trust teachers enough to be vulnerable and learn)

1. the occasional photo text they send that's worth a thousand words (see left)

Last June when it became obvious we had to find a new placement for Reid, we revisited a place I had loved 3 years prior. Pioneer Day School has only improved since then and retained it's intentionally small size.

The teddy bear of a director sat catty corner from me at a conference table explaining the founding principles of his school. Resisting the urge to hug this man, I leaned back--likely scooched my chair away--so as not to block my husband from catching the full drift of truth he was speaking. I wanted them to relate man-to-man. As Mr. Banks said in Mary Poppins, "Enough of this slipshod, sugary, female way of thinking."

Hearing about empathy, social thinking, music instruction, and kinesthetic learning from a beefy man who's educated dozens of challenging boys is very different than hearing your wife say, "let's wait til he's calm to finish the homework." Jim Leiner described how he trains his teachers to first give empathy (ie. "I know this must be hard for you Billy, math was always difficult for me too"); then offer an invitation ("If you'd like I can show you something I learned that helps); and make a plan ("How 'bout if we do 5 problems today and save the rest for tomorrow?")

In one sitting, what my husband used to perceive as "coddling" became logical, within reason, even wise. We listened (well actually, I nodded like a bobble-headed dashboard ornament) then toured the school. This move would represent a return to our original follow-your-gut instinct on what was best for Reid. By moving him, we would abandon the "research-based," straight behavior mod program for something far more holistic. It was a battle between the head and the heart for both of us.

As we got out to the curb in front of the building, I refrained from jumping for joy. I don't like to stack the deck or be subjective. (ha!) My new intention these days is to submit to my husband's wisdom.

Our other set of eyes was a dear friend Kate, who has credentials up the wazoo from evaluating classrooms around the world for a living. Even at first glance observing the classrooms of Pioneer, Kate noticed countless examples of student work and real curriculum which indicated a place of learning. This was a vivid contrast to the starkness of the previous place where the curriculum really was behavior.

Was it just me? Or was this gonna be unanimous? After giving her professional opinion, Kate asked the obvious, what did I think? As I stifled my enthusiasm still wanting Jim to arrive at his own clarity, she ribbed me with the now infamous line, "He had you at empathy!" She knows me too well.

Confirmation came after the 30-day placement meeting where the aide, director and teacher reported how Reid had taken to this place like a fish to water. The most pleasant surprise was that he had done a page of division problems after being shown and invited to practice. (Another distinction since the previous placement had removed him from the diploma track and all but tabled academics in favor of teaching compliance.)

As we left that meeting my husband elbowed me in the ribs, "ok now I wanna hug the guy!" (I resisted the irony of yapping back, "hands at your side; personal space.")

Colloquial Vocab

Who doesn't have vocabulary development on their IEP? Like greetings, increasing vocabulary has been one of Reid's goals for more than a decade. Lately though, his gains in other areas make this one simmer to the top like grease on the top of the turkey soup--ready to be skimmed off.

With new vigor I am explaining idioms and narrating each drive in the car as if I were a thesaurus on audible.com. I have a Word-a-Day tear off calendar in mind for under the tree. (Shhhh...) Grateful for good training from so many speech and language pathologists, we are "emphasizing new words in conversation and generalizing them to various settings. This becomes habitual after years of practice, but we can all use a refresher right?

Several times lately, Reid has asked me, "what does ____ mean?" This is quite an exciting developmental milestone at any age. Last week, Jim was out of town for a night, which was occasion enough for Allie and I to watch Sleepless in Seattle. Catching wind of this plan in one of those running monologue car rides, Reid inquired, "what's a chick flick?" I gave what I thought was an adequate explanation. That is now debatable.

At our house, Reid customarily "does the controls," meaning he holds the remote, cues up the DVD's, introduces the film, and adjusts the volume. Electronics are totally his department. Even if he walks out in the middle of a film, when those credits roll boy, he never fails to bolt back down. With a flourish he insists he must "do the honors," eject the disk, and close up shop. So it was tonight, after a peaceful Thanksgiving day, that he rejoined us for the summation of the movie Elf. As he turned the power off he delivered the punch line under his breath, "That was a good chick flick."

Jim and I chuckled in cahoots later...a chick flick...compared to what? Bourne Supremacy or Barney? We'll keep working on that goal....progress noted.

Lending and Borrowing

"Good Morning Andrea. This is Kay down at the Solana Beach Library."

They open early the day before Thanksgiving I thought, expecting it to be my mom gobble gobbling on the other line.

"Oh hi Kay, how are you?" I'm on a first name basis with many of our local librarians, as previously mentioned.

"I'm fine, but I should be asking, 'how are you?' Well, listen, we're having kind of a slow day down here...going through some lost and found...and we have a darling photo album with pictures of your family from Christmas 2009...I have no idea how it got here but you know...sometimes things have a way of getting shoved back behind on the shelves....." (gobble gobble)

"I know exactly how it got there...and yes, I'll be right down to get it. Thank you!" Those glossy coffee table albums cost me some time and coin to make.

Grateful for Reid's share and share alike attitude. Grateful they didn't catalogue it for general circulation among my neighbors. Grateful they know us and took the time to call. Grateful to have it back.

P.S. Which Dewey decimal classification do you suppose it would fall under? Social Science...Biography...Arts & Recreation...History

Top 10 Tuesday

Top 1o People in my Neighborhood

10. the mustachioed traffic director at Reid's school

9. Laura who works Sunday mornings at Panera

8. Kaye at the library who has authority to waive fines

7. Alex at Henry's Marketplace whose "got my back"

6. Debbie with the "oy i'm late" license plates who waves vigorously

5. you-know-the-stockboy at Trader Joe's

4. a greenskeeper for our association

3. Larry, the greeter on our church patio

2. another mustachioed carpool line attendant at Allie's school

1. Jona at the Solana Beach Rubio's

I have friends--some really good friends--but I don't necessarily see them on a daily basis. This list of more anonymous types are people who, in truth, I barely know. Yet they brighten my day immensely with their undeniable joie de vivre. As you can see, I don't even know some of their names. They are familiar faces though, "people in my neighborhood" who like Mary Tyler Moore, "can take a nothing day and suddenly make it all seem worthwhile." Each of them hasmade my day more times than I can count with a simple wave, a significant smile, or a gutsy greeting.

It doesn't take much. I am sure the greenskeeper waves to many residents as they pass by but boy oh boy when he puts that spade down to wave to me through the car window, well...I feel like his favorite!

Although we've only exchanged a dozen words ever, "Oy I'm Late" (the plate on her maroon van) flags me down in the "2 BY 2" (my Eurovan plate) as if I were driving on the rims or my engine was aflame. By the time I realize she's just waving hello, I feel like the president in a motorcade. Whether I bump into her in the produce aisle or a swim lane, she never fails to ask about Reid by name. She doesn't know our last name, wouldn't imagine that I blog, but she cares and she seems to get the gestalt of us. We are a piece in her puzzle, and she sees the big picture.

Likewise, the clerk at our nearest Panera has our Sunday morning goodies practically bagged and ready before we get to the counter. She is a bright spot of familiarity and belonging in our week, always asking, "how was church?"

Reid is a definite vehicle for this kind of VIP treatment since we call his name outloud in public places more than the norm. It seems we are repeatedly prompting him back to wait in line, away from the sneezeguard, or over to place his order. Before you know it, we've attained infamy at many local haunts. His ritualistic ordering of the same thing every week also aids her memory. Just the same, she has a gift of hospitality and uses it liberally to love on us, if only for the short exchange.

I could go on about each one (and may in future posts). For now, let's just ask each other, whose day can we make?

The entire law is summed up in a single command: "Love your neighbor as yourself."Galatians 5:13-15

"Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man?" Luke 10:35-37

Heroes and Miracles

Sitting in the stands spectating at a Miracle League baseball game Saturday morning , Allie and I took a deep breath. Having just handed Reid off to his 1:1 buddy, we knew we'd have 2 innings of relatively uninterrupted talk time. (Quality time comes in various zones.)

At a whisper she confided, "guess what that lady just said to me?"

"Is that your brother out there? Then you are a real hero."

To which she politely replied and wisely corrected, "the real heroes are the ones who sign up and show up every week to make this possible. They choose to be here. We have to do it!"

True. The miracle of this local phenomenon is the dedication, enthusiasm, and sheer volume of volunteers who create a slice of heaven on earth.

Every Saturday 12 teams of special needs kids aged 5-18 of all abilities come bedecked in uniforms ready to play ball with whatever modifications they need. An amazing announcer, Alan Moore, treats each one as an MVP coming up to bat replete with nicknames and stats from the previous season. Whether they bat from a wheelchair, standing or hand over hand, every one has a buddy and everyone gets a hit.

Reid's first time at bat, he connected with a solid hit which Mr. Moore proclaimed "a home run!" With requisite prompting, Reid ran all four bases and enjoyed the applause from the stands. Well, can I tell you, every single time since, he rounds that diamond at full tilt in a beeline back to his seat in the dugout. Whether he's fouled, bunted or slugged it, the precedent has been set. Hit = homerun in his locked tight mind. One time he passed a couple other runners in the process. No worries, no tantrums; every game ends in a tie.

Coaches range from off-duty therapists to high school age siblings. The one on one buddies come out of the woodwork of the community at large to don a flourescent t-shirt and help. Every week I see another familiar face and ask how they learned about it. Parents cheer from the stands or visit like comrades in arms; brothers and sisters are proud; players grin ear to ear.

For that one hour a week, I feel like everything is really going to turn out fine. It is miraculous!

You are the God who performs miracles; you display your power among the peoples. Psalm 77:13-15

"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' Matthew 25:39-41