sorry

I'm trying...I swear.

My brain is full of posts, but the clock just won't produce the minutes needed to put them down. I assure....it's coming. :)

Hollaaaaaa!

Oh yeah....thats BOTH hands on the swing.

Thanks a gazillion to Kim (I am guessing) for taking time to picture mail me this rad pic of Remmers rockin' his new hawk on the tire swing. Love, love, love this little man.

***Note***As I type this post, a very happy Rem is hopping around behind me singing" Shoo fly, don't bother me. Shoo fly, don't bother me. Shoo fly, don't bother me." OOOH! And I think he pooped!Later friends. ***

tear (and a sniffle too)....

See this boy:

My, how cute he is. He is brilliant, and funny, and playful, and daring and so so so much more. I think that I have told you before that we are both middles, you know...smack dab in between two siblings, stewing in our own self pity and completely and fully angst ridden. I get him. He gets me.

Understanding our connection, you can share in my surprise...and sheer heart break when THIS little boy:

all loathing and angry like, prayed this:

"Dear Jesus, please make mommy die."

Really?

Owe sye?

"Owe-sye?" He says.

Oh....how I adore these questions. These little snapshots of just how far we have come. (smile)

I find myself daily stopping, and just staring. Soaking in all that is this little miracle of a child. He makes my heart all squishy, and I think that maybe its good for me. I think so.

I hope that you will excuse my absence. I have been nothing short of overwhelmed and swept up in my new role in this world. Working mother. Yikes, not something that I thought I would be doing this early in our journey with Remy, but a change that was both welcome, and needed. Never in my life have I worked in a position that I was so absolutely sure that I would be amazing at. THIS is THAT job. It feels good. :) ((deep deep breath))

Back to this boy. This incredible boy. Let me walk you through the conversation. Know ahead of time that while Remy has a fairly large vocabulary, a great deal of his communication is implied....and translated by me.....I hope he doesn't mind. (I would like you to read his part as Pepe la Pew voice. That is how I am hearing it in my head)

Him: "Owe-sye?"

Me: "Not right now baby."

No..you say?

Perhaps you have not seen my moves.

Oh no...I am so sad.

That is no good? Well look here at how charming I am.....

No? Perhaps you will like me when I am serious?

...and so it went. I had to weed through about 30 photos. I don't know why I can't just put the camera down and take the kid outside. I did. Don't worry.

I am committing to more frequent posts. I am getting a grip on my life, hopefully. :)

zoo-y kind of day

Do you ever just feel like all is right with the world? It is rare in this life of three boys that we have a day that just begins and ends, well, perfectly. This, my friends, was one of those days. The first warm Saturday of the season, four boys (including daddy of course) and one me, just being.

Being brothers,

being sons,
being beautiful,
being kids....

I hope that THESE are the days that they remember.

Off he goes.

Deep breath. That should help... right? Maybe not. I knew this day was coming, but in my mind, not yet. 2 1/2 years old? Preschool five days a week? Really? Is that a good idea? Am I a bad mom for putting my little man on a school bus, before he is even potty trained? Well, maybe, I guess....but I don't think so.

Remy started attending the Douglas Road Elementary Special Education Preschool classroom.

I

could

not

be

happier.

He is doing so many new things every single day. I am so proud to be his mom, and forever grateful to live in a "from birth" state. Children in MI, who meet eligibility requirements can receive special education services through the school district from birth. Most states do not start serving children within the school system until the age of three. This, I am sure of it, has played an enormous role in the progress he has made.

Thank you Dr. Chugani, and Kathy, and Dr. Sood (not part of ISD, or even the county, but a HUGE part of our lives), and Kim, and Carolyn (Marilyn too), and Miss Nikki, and Jolynn, and Brenda, and Brandy, and Kirsty and EVERYONE ELSE at the ISD for preparing my perfect little boy for this transition. Miss Michelle, we look forward to an amazing couple of years in your classroom.

Check out Rem on his first day...loving his "pack-pack".

Look at that beautiful squat. It's the little things...

You can't tell, but he is actually looking into the door of the bus, right at the bus driver. Not too sure about this.

All strapped in and ready to go (glasses are off to keep him from throwing them around the bus).

Look in the back seat, you can make out the profile of his hawk. Sad mommy is super proud.

This is only the beginning. And I am loving the way that things are unfolding.

Something to remember me by......

Brodie: "I still want to be an artist when I grow up. And a professional skateboarder."

Me: "Still? Thats sounds really cool Brode."

Brodie: "Do you like my background? I am working really hard on this background. I'll do the monsters next. Should I do two or three monsters on this background?"

Me: "It's looking pretty good dude. How many monsters do YOU want?"

Brodie: "I think three, and I'll do the whole bodies."

Me: "Good idea man. I love it."

Brodie: "If I'm an artist, and I die before you....all you have to do is go to the museum and look at my art. That way you can always remember me."

Me: "Wow Brodie, I hope that doesn't happen."

Brodie: (with an amazing little out-of-the-side-of-his-mouth smile) "I know, but if I do die before you, won't you like to see my art in a museum?"

Me: "That would be awesome."

He is crazy-awesome. I love him.

Pins and Pals....

Happy Birthday to my sneaky little monkey. Of course, it is belated on the blog....as are most things. The celebration, however, was right on time. My Matai is 5.

Wow.

My "middle" is 5. Somehow that feels both wrong and amazing all at once.

I guess a lot of things about motherhood feel that way.

So...one beautiful little boy, bowling, birthday cake, and a zillion little buggers to share it with.

Why is he so positively gorgeous? It really doesn't make sense... but he makes my heart melt.

Well, most of the time. (smile) (maybe a wink too)

The "others" had fun too, and of course, they are painfully beautiful as well......

Are we in agreement here?

Sleep....whats that?

Wow. Just wow. I am exhausted. I would have thought that the worst possible symptom of Tuberous Sclerosis Complex was Infantile Spasms. Surely it is, but at this point I am realizing that it is all relative to the current situation. Remy's sleep schedule is

kicking

my

butt!!

He has, for reasons I can not understand, decided that his two year old body does not need a nap during the day. I, for one, would not complain about said lack of nap if he would at least agree to a decent bed time. Wait, maybe not. See 8 pm bedtime....see Remy up by 2 am.

WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?!?!?!?!?!?

Apparently, this "normal" when it comes to TSC. "Normal". Thats a funny word. He is an amazing miracle of a little child, don't get me wrong. I would stay up for the rest of my life if it kept him from seizing, but holy crap. I mean, really?!

I need a nap.

Some nights, a little late-night-elmo is in order. He will smash his little face against the side of his playpen just to get a glimpse of his furry little friend.

~sigh~

Just a thought...

I keep reading. I can't stop really. I love to absorb everything that I can related to Remy's disease.

His diagnosis is Tuberous Sclerosis Complex, but what got him, what really knocked him down, was infantile spasms (caused by the numerous tubers on his brain). The more I read about infantile spasms, the freakier they sound. They are described as a rare and CATASTROPHIC form of epilepsy.

Hmm.

Catastrophic.

Call me crazy, but catastrophe, in general, is not welcome in my child's brain.

baby steps

I'm having a moment. Actually, I've been having a week. A week of spaztic irrational fear that I wish I could talk myself out of. For the past year, I have been home. I have been here with my kids,

every

single

day.

I have loved it. I'm not saying it has been easy...but it has been necessary. Remy needed me, he needed ALL of my time. His body was broken, and he couldn't fix it on his own. I committed to taking him to every appointment, every day, so that he could find his stride.

He has.

(big grin!)

Five therapy sessions a week have pushed this amazing little man to a point that we weren't sure he would get to. Independent walker!!!! And of course shortly after his first steps came sentences. We have a talking walking two year old, and needless to say, an indescribable sense of pride for our "broken baby". Broken? Hmmmm.

He is ready for more. He is ready to see the world, and make friends, and expand his language and social skills (anyone who knows Remy might laugh at the idea of him needing to work on his social skills, but I promise, he does), and to learn appropriate play, and group behavior. While I long to give him these skills, I myself lack the skills to teach him.

Enter the special ed preschool program and Douglas Rd.

Off he goes. Well, probably. We still have to work out the details, but he is ready. I saw it in his eyes at our visit, when he played, and laughed, and.....ran. All with other kids. All with a smile, and sense of wonder that I would be crazy to stifle. Of course he needs me. He will need me for a really long time. And of course I need him TO need me. But today, he needs me to let him grow....

and I am ready.

I think? (this is me holding my breath)

Oh yeah, and I think I am going back to work. I just happened to find the job of my dreams in the midst of all of this. Maybe God is giving me a much needed distraction. Or maybe he is just letting me know it is ok. It is all ok. I am ok. I have survived the worst that life has to offer, and have learned so much about who I am and what I want to be to the world. I want people to feel whole, because I feel whole. (: I've got a lot to give.

Thank you Remy, for reteaching me how to be me.

$$$$$$

Brodie: "Mom, did you know that if you have broken jewelry, you can get money for it?"

Me: "Really Brodie? How is that?"

Brodie: "You can take all of your broken pieces of jewelry to Cash for Gold."

Me: "Oh, wow. I didn't know that."

Brodie: "Yeah, you can get a lot of money that way. Up to $1,000 a day."

Me: "I wish I had some broken jewlery."

Mind you, this is all while he is drawing pictures at the kitchen table (in his underwear), which turned out to be a toilet, a plunger, and poop. I don't know why gross bathroom pictures made him think of selling jewelry, but who am I to question the inner workings of a 6 year old's brain? But again, I say, I wish I had some old broken jewelry.....

No Fool!

Where is the innocence? I can't help but ask myself where I have gone wrong with my amazing little monsters. Now, we are very clear with our children just why we celebrate Christmas, and what it means to us. I mean, come on...Matai can tell your every single detail outlined in the story of Jesus' birth, and I have to admit, it is pretty amazing. While I am absolutely beyond thrilled that my kiddo's get what we are celebrating, I had a moment of sadness on Christmas eve. After a day of fun with the Kruks...food, fun, family, and as always TONS of gifts, we were winding down, when this conversation took place:

Me: "Time for bed boys. You better go to sleep really fast because it is Christmas eve!"

Brodie: "Ok. I think Nina got me everything I asked her for. I made her a list. That means she got it all for me."

Me: "Well we will have to see tomorrow. Right now, you have to go to bed."

They start making their way to the bedroom, all excited about what is going to ensue over the next 24 hours, and I am feeling awfully proud of myself that we can make this so special for them. Then I hear this...

Matai: "Do you think if wake up at night and come out of my room, I will see you and dad putting the presents under the tree?"

Me: "Don't you mean Santa?"

Matai: "No, you and dad do it."

Hmmmm. That seems sad. Have I failed my four year old. Brodie is over it too. He says that moms and dads do it because Santa is pretend. He has, however, assured me that he would not divulge this devastating information to the rest of his first grade class. Crazy, smart kids.

Happy Birthday, to HIM

Now, usually we have some obvious stars here at Really Brodie. The boys may consume most of my nerves and creative energy... and to a point they may have come to define who I am. While I live and breathe little boys, there is one essential character in this story who doesn't get much air time. My amazing husband, Matthew. Today, he turns 31. And I must say that

I

Love

Him.

For reasons that I might not effectively be able to convey. Not everyone gets to be married to the love their life....I guess I am just lucky.

So.... this is for him. A man that gives more of himself than I could ever think to ask for.

He can man three swings at once...

Teach his impossible wife to skateboard...

Sacrifice so much more than I could ever ask to provide us with an amazing home (oh yeah...he can swing a hammer)...

Just sit....for hours because his child needs him to...

For these, and so many more reasons, I love you, Matthew. Happy Birthday!

No girls {allowed}

So maybe I didn't get the chance to have a daughter. Maybe I WILL live my life as THAT mom. You know the one I'm talking about, don't you? The one that you see walk into the store and your first thought is:

"Aww. That poor woman has her hands full."

followed quickly by:

"Why won't she shut up?! I am sick of her voice already!" (you know, b/c of the constant correcting of three boys, and I get sick of my own voice, just to be clear)

Yes....yes I do. I have my hands full... of little boys. I have my days filled will rough housing, urine soaked bathroom floors, and farts, and quite often....blood. Glamorous, don't you think?

I was sure that I would have girls, but I think that GOD was just protecting the world when he gave me my kids. You see, my thought is, that if I can produce little BOYS this pretty:

...it would actually be painful to look at my daughter. Just a thought.

Merry Christmas....to me.

There are not many things in this world that I can say that I need. If you would have asked me for my Christmas list just once over the past two years, I can promise you that the one thing that I would beg for....on my hands and knees, is healthy kids.

Whole kids.

Kids who light up at all that is wonderful in this world.

Kids who can feel, and laugh, and smile and grow, and learn and dance and sing and......walk.

One thing that I do, and I will be the first to admit it, is minimize. I minimize my need, my hurt, my pain, my fear and mostly my anger. Not my anger in general (my husband can attest to that) but my anger over what has transpired within my family. Over the mutation that happened in my own child's DNA when he was supposed to be safe inside of me, growing into a perfectly whole little baby boy. The past two years have been filled with uncertainty, with pain, with overwhelming fear. Anger, uncertainty, and fear that Remy is breaking through, every single day.

This year, I got the best Christmas present that I could have ever imagined. I have a little boy who can tell me that he loves me.

Oh, and did I mention that he can walk?

He is A.MAZE.ING.

Start the Healing!

It is official. Crossroads Community Church in an official drop off point for relief supplies to be sent to Haiti. These are the items most desperately needed:

First Aide Kits

Bandages-all sizes

Bandaids

antibiotic creams

pain relievers (tylenol for adults AND for children, Motrin Ib profen etc.)

Antibiotics are severely needed (amoxil, penecillin, etc)

canned goods

can openers

bottled water

*I haven't heard for sure, but I would assume that old crutches and canes could be used as well.

Please do not donate clothing. There is not room and clothing is not a huge need in Haiti. The salvation army keeps them well stocked with clothing. Lets fill these HUGE and immediate needs for our brothers and sisters in Haiti.

Drop off all items to:

Crossroads Community Church

6960 Sylvania Petersburg Rd.

Ottawa Lake, MI 49267

(Located right off of exit 1 on 23)

www.crossroadson23.com

Crushing.....

Most of you are aware of my plans to leave for Haiti tomorrow. A group of 12 us were to leave tomorrow morning at 11:30, and provide eye care, and other various things to the people of Desalines. As of last night, our trip was cancelled, as the airport is not accepting flights into Port au Prince.

The magnitude of what is happening in Haiti right now is something that I can not fully grasp. I am devastated for the people that we so badly wanted, and still want to help. In a time of unimaginable need, what I have to offer is not enough. Haiti needs help, bigger than what a dozen people from Crossroads Community Church are able to give. Contact your local Red Cross, find an organization accepting supplies, and monetary donations to help a country who is simply UNABLE to help itself.

I am currently waiting to hear about the possibility of a local drop off center, and will post as soon as I get word. For now, I just ask that you pray for the people affected, and for those organizations who have been cleared to make a difference in Haiti.

AGAIN! With the garbage!

So I know what you are thinking. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS WOMAN?! Why so many posts about her little dude eating out out of trash. While this entry may speak of said trash, it in no way involves the consumption of discarded materials.

Cross my heart.

While the garbage eating has subsided for the time being (please, please, please), he has a new found hobby almost equally as disturbing.

He

throws

EVERTHING

away.

Ugh! I have found entire cupboards worth of dishes in that dirty little can, along with numerous toys, clothing items and even bills (not so bad I must say). One might ask why I don't just put the trash under the sink. I will tell you why. I have Ikea cabinetry, and it won't fit. Ridiculous.

Alright... there I was. Frantically readying myself for the day ahead (because frantically is how we do everything in the morning), when I hear those beautiful little lopsided footsteps coming down the hall.

bump BUMP bump BUMP bump BUMP (perfect little unbalanced baby).

I hear plain as day,"fjal dkhid;i dkjaidk GLASSES. alkjdic kdhia kdvik GARBAGE."

Excuse the gibberish, I really wouldn't know where to begin trying to spell the strange things that come out of his mouth. That being said, two words were clear as day. Glasses and garbage. You can only image what that little monster did.

At lease he told on himself....right?

Upon retrieval, Remy made it very clear as to why he threw his new specs away.

Because. He. Hates. Them. Poor sad baby.