How Time Flies

I returned to my blog site today, and could NOT believe that it has been  3 years since my last post! A LOT has happened since then, and I guess my level of busy-ness has kept me from jotting my thoughts down. Kind of sad, how busy life can get, and opportunities to keep up a meaningful record of experiences and developments are missed. However, I guess any entries here might be valuable to my kids someday, so I will continue to write, even if it is only occasionally.

My last post outlined some of my struggles with my son, Donovan, who is now going to turning 18 and a few months. Since that last post, Donovan continued to struggle through his high school years, and is now about to attempt grade 12 for the second time. Over the years, his father and I have watched his anger and frustration grow with school, and him always coming home and stating, "I hate school."

Well, finally, a development happened this summer, which I wished I had happened years ago. I had him tested privately by a psychologist, specializing in young kids and learning disabilities. Sure enough, after completing several tests, it was revealed that Donovan has a significant delay in understanding verbal instructions, as well as conversation, oral reading, and identifying abstract concept in texts. It was also found that his processing speed is severely delayed, which requires Donovan to have much more time to complete tasks which others may complete in a more timely manner.

As I was listening to this, I went through a bunch of different emotions: First, anger, that not one of Donovan's teachers identified this problem in the classroom. Donovan was able to achieve 60% and higher in subjects, and if there was a problem in a particular subject, it was blamed on his attitude or laziness. I myself, thought that his anger at home was related to mistakes that I had made as a parent, and carried this guilt for years. I had even asked Donovan if he was angry about certain family transitions, and he had said, "No, it's not that." but couldn't articulate what was eating at him. Thinking back, there were instances when I had to repeat what I had said to him, or explain a meaning of a word here and there, but had no idea that he had such a significant delay. I myself thought he was just rebelling and taking the easy way out when it came to completing projects. He didn't present as a kid who couldn't understand what you were saying to him.

Second, surprise, but not really. Mother's intuition told me that there was something not quite right. Even though a few different psychologists had told me that he was a "Normal angry teenage kid."
Third, relief. Identifying that there was a problem allows us to fix it, and gives Donovan a reason that he hasn't like school all this time.

Fourth, GUILT. As I listened to the results of the test scores, I cried, feeling so badly for Donovan all this time not being able to figure out what was wrong. Guilt that I hadn't figured it out sooner, and gotten him tested earlier. All this time, I thought his issues were emotional, but as it turns out, it was related to his frustration at not being able to identify what was wrong.

I learned something from this experience. That you must be so proactive with your kids when it comes to matters like this. It's so important to actually DO something. And if you are overreacting, it's ok. I called Donovan last night to explain the results to him, and to see what he thought of it. He confirmed that he thought her report made sense, and I apologized to him for not seeing this sooner. The report will allow Donovan all sorts of accomodations for his last year of school, to ensure that his assignments/credit requirements are way more in line with his learning style. Phew!

Who knows? Maybe this year will be a turning point, a fresh start. Now we have hope. :)

Donovan






One of his many talents...

  He can solve a Rubix Cube in a few seconds, he can juggle, he knows karate moves, he is musical, he likes animals, he is tech-savy and athletic. He is passionate, and enjoys the company of his 20-year-old brother. He takes to the air when executing complicated skateboard tricks. This is my 14 year old son, Donovan.

Donovan was born on October 12, 1996. He came out, looking like the spitting image of his grandfather. I had considered other names for him, like Nicholas and Austin, but upon looking at him, he was definitely "a Donovan", so I succumbed to the suggestion to name him after a Canadian track star, Donovan Bailey.

When he was still very small, Donovan quickly showed us that he was a hard-core "boy". His first word was "ball", and he became very excited to see one. And it didn't matter what kind of ball it was, any kind would set him into excitedly repeating "ball! ball! ball!" over and over again. Shortly afterwards, he also demonstrated his love for anything with wheels. Soon he was situating himself in front of the big front window and watching vehicles and other mobile machinery going by. I remember looking at him from the back, facing out the front window, mesmerized by a backhoe across the street, digging posts to put in playground equipment. He was so very very cute, with his dark brown curls and his jean overalls on. He was a beautiful boy, and from infancy on, he had a bright sparkle in those brown eyes.

I don't remember him crying very much. He was a really easy baby and toddler to take care of. Even when he fell one morning in the toy room and landed on his head on the Hungry Hippo Game, he only cried for a brief moment. As we looked for the source of the blood in his mop of curls, we noticed that he had a small 1 cm cut in his scalp, and could see his skull underneath. So off to Windsor we drove to get him stitched up. The doctor wrapped Donovan like a cocoon in a sheet and then laid him face-down on the table to close up the cut. When we lifted him back up, there was one single tear running down the vinyl pillow that had been under his head, but he had not made a sound. He was approximately 18 months old at the time. Even then, it seemed that he sometimes repressed his feelings, almost as if afraid of letting them take over.

Never too excited about getting his picture taken!

At age 3, he carried his obsession with sports into daily activities in the summer. He loved to hit a baseball with a bat, and could hit a golf ball extraordinarily well. When he got to Junior Kindergarten, my older son Skylar, who was in grade 5 at the time came home and told me that the gym teacher had brought Donovan around to each classroom, instructing him to dribble a basketball for the teacher/class. I wasn't surprised. The gym teacher was as amazed at Donovan's skills as we had been!

Although a kid of few words, Donovan occasionally showed signs of being very sensitive. When I was pregnant with his sister, after putting him down for an afternoon nap, I would go check on him only to find that he had stuffed a pillow under his shirt. I'm not sure why exactly that he did that, maybe only to imitate my growing shape, to be like Mom. Donovan was always quite shy and had to be coaxed to engage in conversations with others. Once warmed up, though, that sparkle in his eye would shine and he would engage in happy chatter.



Always enjoyed company of big brother.



Donovan did show signs at an early age of being particular about what he wanted and didn't want. He often kept his posessions very organized and it their places. He didn't like others getting in his space too much, and would insist on getting his space if someone was bothering him. I remember him slapping his grandmother quite forcefully in the face at about 10 months of age after becoming increasingly annoyed by her silly faces and teasing. I know she was only trying to play with Donovan, but he was having none of it! Even to this day, Donovan has let friends "go" if they have rubbed him the wrong way. He insists that they treat him right, or not be around him at all. This particular issue prompted a change in schools after grade 7. I thought this was taking quite a passionate stand, as there was only one more year before graduation and then highschool.





Donovan wasn't really a cuddly boy, but was inquisitive and liked a challenge. However, when challenged, he had a hard time accepting anything less than perfection, and would become easily frustrated if that didn't happen. I think maybe that's why over the years, Donovan signed up for and then quit several activities, hockey, guitar, and karate. He was very good at these activities, but wanted to be the best, or not waste his time on them at all. He has had a hard time accepting less than the best of anything. Maybe someday that attitude will serve him well, but up until now, it has only added to frustration of being an adolescent and riding on the hormone rollercoaster.



Avoiding the camera...



Over the years, I have watched the sparkle slowly fade from Donovan's eyes, and it has been the hardest thing that I have had to witness. As a parent, I immediately assume this was my fault. Our family has gone through some major changes over the years, and I always hope and pray that my kids will come out on the other side of these transitions healthy, happy, and still intact as little people. Maybe, I hope to myself, it's now certain hormones which are affecting changes in his body, and causing mood swings. Maybe it's just the type of personality he has that is causing him not enjoy school, socializing with friends, and family. Maybe it's just a stage... Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Not too long ago, during our daily arguement about getting homework done, and spending hours holed up in his room on the computer, Donovan yelled some very nasty words. I stood there, frozen for a moment, feeling as if I had been slapped in the face. I don't think that as long as I live, I will ever forget those words. Speaking from experience, I know that all kids ever want is to be loved by their parents. The same is true about parents - they just want to be loved by their kids as well, so hearing this was devastating for me. Where was my little "Donnie-vin" whom I sang to, and brought to the park, made jokes with, and chatted with in the back yard, who shyly sat on Santa's lap, who snuggled with me in bed while I read bedtime stories, and who looked up to big brother Skylar? Where did he go? When did his world become so dark?



Glimmer of hope...



All I can hope for is a better tomorrow. All I can do now is pray that someday, when the raging hormones subside, and maturity sets in, Donovan will realize that I'm still standing in the sidelines waiting for the storm to pass. I can only hope that he knows, and has heard me say and demonstrate how much he and his well-being mean to me. For the beautiful moments we shared together when he was a happy baby and child, I will be forever grateful.

Just when I thought my heart was full...

(courtesy of http://www.gingersnapsyou.ca/)

Amnay has arrived! He was born on September 26th, weighing 8 lbs, 13 oz. It's now the 12th day of his life here on earth, and I can't believe how many feelings have rose and swelled in my heart since the moment he was born.

I had known this little boy was coming, even before I discovered I was pregnant. It was just a knowing that only a mom-to-be can have. Amnay had given me the honour of sensing his presence before he came. He came into the world, screaming a kind of bloodcurdling scream (who wouldn't after having been inside a warm womb, and then pushed out into the cold?), and was laid on my belly, where he immediately began looking around and seeming to listen to what was going on around him. It was hard, as I had suspected to look into his face with the uncertainty of when his dad would be able to join us, and with the disappointment that he couldnt be there for his son's arrival. However, even though I was sad, I was also filled with joy at the same time, looking into the eyes of my son, knowing he had deliberately come to me and his dad after hearing our strong desire to have him. "What a brave boy you are" I whispered to him. I am not sure, but I suspect that it is not an easy thing to do to leave the comforts of heaven and come down to earth to experience things like human emotions, loss, pain, sadness, and at that realization, I have vowed to do the best I can to guide this little one on his way.

I have 3 other children, and I am sure that when they were born, I also vowed to do the same for them as well. However, now older and wiser (I hope), through my own experiences I was looking at this little boy with different eyes, with a heightened sense of the fact that he may have come with a very deliberate purpose, and now that I think I understand the committment he would have had to make, I look at his arrival with amazement admiration gratitude and awe. He also would have come with the knowledge that his father and I planned and yearned for him to be with us, loving each other so much that we wanted to share this special gift and bond between us for the rest of our lives.

For the first week with Amnay, I just looked into his eyes, and tried to let him know that I was aware of his gift to us. I think he felt that, because after just one short week of life, he smiled at me! And no, it wasn't the "gas smile", it was the real thing (a mom knows!). Just this morning, I asked him, "Are you happy you came?" and he immediately responded with a half-smile, kind of a smirk as if to say, "You have no idea".

(courtesy of http://www.gingersnapsyou.ca/)

Now as I watch him breastfeeding or sleeping, or looking around at his surroundings, I am reminded what is so very important  in this life. What I thought was challenging is not that hard anymore, what I thought was love was just the tip of the iceberg...what I thought life was all about has all changed, and all because of my little velvet-headed, beautiful boy whom I prayed for. I'm sure he knew what impact his arrival would have on me. No wonder he's smirking... :)

As for Me...

I was growing a baby this summer!

Hanging on to Summer...

I can't believe that it's already the third week of August! The cicadas have already begun buzzing, bringing me back to childhood when their "song" reminded me that school was just around the corner again. If I get up early enough and stick my head out the door, the air smells like September, so thoughts of teaching and school supplies once again enter my brain.
It has been an uneventful, but good summer. The kids have been relaxing, as have I. We spent hours and hours in grandma and grandpa's pool, which was a great refuge from baby weight and water retention for me!

A couple of Mahlia's adventures...

Making tents in the living room and staying up late...

Spending quality time with big brother...

There are still 2 weeks left! We're still hanging on...

Expecting....

I am now 8 months pregnant. It's hard to believe that in about 2 months, I will be meeting our son for the first time. I imagine myself, looking into his (probably) dark brown eyes,  and kissing his brown skin. I am trying not to imagine what it will be like to deliver this baby alone, without his dad...which could be a real possibility. As for now, I am just trying to have as normal existence as I can as a (seemingly) single pregnant woman, with two other children to care for. I have to wonder sometimes, though, what was on this baby's mind, as he entered my womb 8 months ago? Did he know that he would be developing inside a woman who would face alot of emotional aches and hurts? Did he know that his parents would struggle just to get through every day with their broken hearts? Did he know if his dad would be present as he made his entrance into this world? Did he know that his mom would suffer through sleepless nights, wondering about tomorrow?

I have to believe that he did know all that, and despite the challenges he knew he would be a part of, he decided to become a part of our world, his dad's, mine, and my kids'. Because of his insistence on being here with us, I have hope that he knows something good is coming our way. The here and now is just a small part of  what is to come. When loneliness, fatigue, and physical and emotional aches set in, I remember the determination of a small soul that is waiting to be here, waiting to start a human life on this earth, having chosen my husband and I as parents.

In the meantime, there is so much to do! My two other children who live with me, a moody 13 year old boy, and an enthusiastic, exuberant 10 year old girl need me to be present for them, in mind and body, and I must be strong with them in mind. I am also preparing for the arrival of my husband, in making some home renovations. This has been a great way to keep a positive outlook about his timely arrival. I also have a 20 year old, who will hopefully start college this fall, and with this, comes many financial responsibilities as well. I hope and pray that I can be everything to everyone who needs me.

Still forging ahead...

Pictures by: http://www.gingersnapsyou.ca/

I Got the Call!!

The last time I blogged, I was outlining all the emotions I have gone through while following my heart. I had hemmed and hawed, and in the end, my heart won the fight with my head. I did follow my emotions to another land on the other side of the ocean, and more than once! I once again had my faith in love renewed. It's hard to always know if you are taking the right path when dealing with matters of the heart. Expecially when it involves taking a HUGE leap of faith, and laying your life in another's hands. However, despite negative past experiences, I have not regret once second of taking those leaps, as in doing so, I have really had the chance to open up my mind and soul and heart to so many different experiences that seem to have been put in front of me, like gifts from heaven.

To me, adversity does not indicate failure or weakness, but opportunities for growth and development. And in the end, isn't it those with the most growth and development that become the most enlightened, and with the most love to give as a result? How would I be fully equipped to give of my whole self, if I had not first grown and learned so much about myself?

Now, as a result, I am embarking on a whole new chapter in this story, and the beginning of the end of the story. I am very excited to become a mother once again, sharing the miracle of conception with someone whom I have devoted the rest of my life to, and who has also taken a huge leap of faith in embarking on parenthood for the very first time...with me. I feel so blessed to have this chance once again, to have a whole family, to begin life again, to teach my children to find their happiness and to not settle for anything less. We can't wait for our little boy to arrive, and have already named him "Amnay", a Berber name which means "knight". We can't wait to meet our little knight and share a life together, teaching him about unconditional love, a world of possibilities to find happiness, and a love between mother and father that is as it should be... everlasting and strong. I hope Amnay doesn't mind, but he will be the "glue" that binds all of us together, a star of hope in the middle of the vast sky that stretches between 2 continents and 2 cultures.

How lucky are we, to be part of such a miraculous and wonderful plan? How lucky are we?!

Our next challenge is to keep the faith while we are apart. It has been one of the hardest things I have had to do. Expecting such a miracle, and not having the "Daddy" around to share in the daily miracles of pregnancy has been almost unbearable. However, we know that every step of this story has been meant to be, so we try each day, through tears and frustration to keep positive and to look toward the future. We asked this little boy to come into our lives, and he came! He must have known there was something wonderful worth coming for, and I couldn't agree with him more. If you are reading this blog, please keep our family in your positive thoughts and prayers, in the name of hope, faith, and true love. Hopefully someday soon, we will all be together again, and you will see one of my next blogs with a full family portrait!

How lucky are we?!? :)