The Gift of Confidence....

I joined the Army in the '80s when the mantra was "Be the Best That You Can Be". I still sing that ditty from time to time. I know it sounds ridiculous, but that mantra really defined the way that I decided to live my life. And this now extends to my dear son. Quinn has always been different. I remember the caregivers at daycare comment when 6 month old Quinn reacted to other baby's cries--he was incredibly empathetic and would cry as well. As he became mobile, he would never take risks. We knew he'd never fall down the stairs, fall off the bed, or find himself in a precarious situation. He was a very cautious toddler and I was always confident that he wouldn't make any risky moves. Of course that's very comforting, right? He was an observer--he thought through crawling. When he decided it was time, he just did it--no army crawl, just full blown crawling. When he decided to walk--he just stood up and took steps. Potty training? 2 days and he got it. His skills at observation allowed him to perfect the skill in his head first, then physically. It's fascinating really.

As he moved into pre-school, it was clear that this perfectionism was crippling to him. He does not practice--if he can't write his name right the first time, it isn't happening. He started calling himself names--dumb, stupid. I have no idea where he got these; he's never been called this in our home--these are words we don't even utter because they are so mean. His Montessori teachers are nurturing and loving and supportive. I began to see the spiraling cycle that would ultimately create a child riddled with anxiety and a lack of confidence. I knew exactly what he felt like. I could see me growing up through him. I get it.

I don't want him to feel this way; I decided it was time for an intervention. So we made an appointment to get an evaluation at Children's Hospital Occupational Therapy. We recently completed that evaluation.

Let me tell you, I was BLOWN AWAY. My little Quinn is an incredibly bright child who suffers from things most 5 year olds don't. Gravitational insecurity (not having at least one foot on the ground), environmental sensitivities, and processing differences. This doesn't make him a freak; it doesn't make him sick, nor does it make him special. There's no label--he's not autistic, he doesn't have ADD, nor does he have "fill-in-the-blank" syndrome. It just makes him Quinn.

We've had 1 occupational therapy session, along with the evaluation.



Here was Quinn on Saturday at Parker Days:

He's BY HIMSELF on a carnival ride. He's 2 stories up. whoa. He went on this ride 6 times.

The slide is huge. He went down this slide without hesitation.





































Sunday, as part of his homework, we went to a park. Isn't it awesome to have homework to go to a different park every weekend?! Right now, per Quinn's request, the park has to be empty. Fortunately, this one was.

He actually climbed up this piece of equipment--no prompting....

whoa... This was amazing. I think both Mike and I hid tears in our eyes upon watching Quinn do this.


































Quinn even joined hip hop at school--he's declined and even cried before to avoid all organized activities.

I want Quinn to Be All That HE Can Be. And now I feel like he will gain the necessary skills to get one step closer. I'm so excited to see Quinn use his new skills--watch out world!!

a boy and his dog

Everything happens for a reason,yet sometimes it's tough to figure out the reason.

One afternoon about 4 months ago, Mike stopped at Petsmart and happened upon dog rescuers - they were there with several dogs up for adoption. Long story short, Mike signed us up to foster dogs for them. I didn't mind - I'm always happy to help animal rescue. He signed us up to foster a puppy, but when we went to pick up the puppy, he was adopted. So we brought home another dog-a one year old 50 pound mutt. We sucked at fostering as Baylee never returned to the adoption event.

She quickly settled in. And then became a typical 1 year old 50 pound puppy--crazy! We didn't want 4 dogs. Who wants 4 dogs?? But everything happens for a reason--sometimes reasons are realized long after the question is posed. Sometimes the reason never presents itself. In the case of Baylee joining our family, creating mayhem and upheaval, as well as eating a chair, the reason for her did not take long to present itself.

When I was a kid, my best friends were my animals. Quinn, as an only child, is finding friendship in our dogs. Today he was trying to feed worms to Baylee; she wasn't having it. I don't blame her. But her patience is always unflappable. She watches over her boy, so Quinn can play in the back yard with more confidence from me that he is safe.

Four dogs are mayhem to be sure, but it's looking outside today seeing Baylee and Quinn playing that brings a sense of peace--her entry into our life was meant to be and is perfect-despite all the craziness! I look forward to her settling down, to many camping trips with her, to hikes and swims.

And this one has insurance, since every dog we adopt ends up with huge medical issues!

The P word

Penis... Yep, I wrote it. It's a topic of conversation in our house this week, as our child presented his penis to his friends at school. Everyone has laughed this off; I have tried. Then I get a call from his teacher today and another mom has mentioned it. Fortunately (?) Quinn is not the only one who made such a presentation, but I'm mortified. But it's normal. Everything I've read says it's normal. His teacher has said it's normal. Other mom friends have said it's normal. Now that I'm not in the throes of an anxiety attack over it, I can reflect. And smile. Quinn says "I just wanted Lucia to be my best friend, so I showed her my penis". Then he says "But she told the teacher and now she's not going to be my best friend". out of the mouths.... and pants.... of babes.

Picture of the Week--FurKids

The Best Seat in the House--Nicely Shared

Picture of the week

Love that Quinn is going outside after school and he has his dogs with him while exploring our yard. He growing so fast....

A year goes by

It's been a year today that I found out my Dad was nearing the end of his journey here on earth. Our house in Littleton just went up for sale and it was a super exciting time for the Henry family. Then I get the phone call. My Dad is in the hospital and the doctor says that he has only days left. I'm so grateful that he was lucid the first day in hospice. Family and friends showed up in droves to wish my Dad well and to show him love and support. It was heart wrenching to see my Dad. But here's the deal--no one gets out of life alive. I'm a realist. And the best a person can do is show love and support to those you love. Show them you care. That's all you can do. I spent the week with my Dad in hospice, along with so many friends and family. He was never alone. He left this world in pure love. It was a tough week. Quinn was with me through it all, which in hindsight was something I wished would have been different. But with no support he had to be with me. Mike's work days are far too long for him to support school drop/pick up so he had to come. But his sensitive little soul was so affected. He still talks about it. I'm sad that he'll never know his Grandpa. But it is what it is. Not a day goes by that I don't think of my Dad and I sure wish we still had our phone calls on Sundays. My Dad was never judgmental to me and I could always count on him to have pride in me. Now he certainly had his opinions, but he loved me even though he may not have agreed with a path or a decision. So here's to my Dad. Missing him every day....

Oh what the future will hold!

Mike and I have decided to embrace NGA's requirement to move and are planning on moving to St Louis in 2016--if they approve my extension request. It not, we'll be moving in the fall of 2015. I do hope for a summer move, so that Quinn can finish his third and most important year of Montessori and we can be ready for the move (and will have been in our new Parker home for 2 years). I'm excited. I've been needing something new and different for awhile. I'm tired of going to the ADF every day. I've been doing it for 11 years. I'm ready for Quinn to bond with family--Mike's mom, Aunt and Uncle, and cousins are in Kansas City, MO, which is less than 4 hours away. Quinn has little concept of family and I am so looking forward to him being able to play with cousins! and have a loving relationship with his Aunt and Uncle. And go to Grandma's house! This move is very exciting for our little family. Mike will transition to being a SAHD and he is sure looking forward to that--so am I. To have peace of mind that Quinn is going to be taken to school and picked up every day, rather than put on a bus is great. And we are looking at land--5 acres of rural so that we can have our RV with us, not in storage, and have chickens, goats, and anything else we want. So this will be our last year in the West. I love Colorado but I have thoroughly enjoyed all the adventures of living in other parts of the world, and now I have a family to share adventures with--so bring it on!

Split Second Decisions

My darling Quinn has slept with me for the last two years. yep, and I have loved every minute of it. There are two camps of parents with regard to sleeping children--let-them-sleep-where-they-want vs. they-will-sleep-in-their-beds camps. When Quinn was born, we were the TWSITB parents. Quinn went to the crib the first night and for the next three years, including all the night nursings, I would be there for him before he took an in-between breath in the midst of a cry. Mike hated how I slept so light, one ear always open and body ready to respond. Quinn developed excellent sleep habits. He slept through the night at 8 weeks and we never struggled getting him to sleep. He napped perfectly. He was well known to be a sleeper. One night, in the summer of 2013, there was a moth. In Quinn's eyes, the moth had a wingspan that was greater than a raptor and fangs that rival a cobra's venomous fangs. That darned moth was flitting around Quinn's lamp. He never slept in his bed again. I became a LTSWTW parent. For every night of the next two-ish years--in hotel rooms, at family's houses, in the RV, at home--Quinn was right by my side. And I loved it. I felt his breathing through two croup outbreaks and several colds. I had the bucket ready for two vomit parties. I was present during night terrors. I assisted with the middle of the night bathroom runs. I. was. present. Well, last night was a night like all others. We all head upstairs around 8 to potty, brush teeth, read a book and lights out, hopefully by 8:30. All went according to plan; we read a book called "There's no Such Thing as Monsters" about Little Bear sleeping away from Big Bear, in his own bed. And all the monsters that he thought he saw in his room, all alone, were debunked. And Big Bear was so proud. And sad. Because he was alone. Anyway, we finish reading our book and Quinn--who appeared in that moment to be 18 years old--got up and said "I'm sleeping in my bed tonight". whoa! wait! Can we talk about this? I don't want to say any of this, but my heart just about split in half. And that boy walked us into his bedroom, where he clearly defined how the room was to remain as he said good night (light on, blind up, door open, all lovies in the bed (he's never slept with a lovie...)), gave hugs and kisses, and said good night. He was up 3 minutes later to use the master bathroom (did I see a crack in his decision right there? please...), and 5 minutes later he called me up (YES! second thoughts!) to get a quick lesson on moths in the winter time. I assured him that there are no moths in the winter, that they all freeze, and yes, if we stayed outside we would freeze too. And yes--moths are warm blooded. oh, and no wasps either. Feeling safe, he trounced off to bed. This morning, he woke on his own (having aged to 30-something over night) knowing that school was back on today, came downstairs and retrieved his "coffee-juice" and crawled into our bed to watch morning cartoons. His first words to me: "Mama, are you proud of me?" Am I proud?? Heart-broken, lonely, but incredibly proud--yes. As is typical for my amazing child (yes, it's highly likely I'm the only one who thinks he's amazing, and that's ok by me), he makes a decision, probably after internally weighing the pros and cons, mentally practicing what moves were necessary--and did it. Proud doesn't begin to describe.