Kathleen M. Basi's Blog, page 96
October 10, 2012
When You’re Standing On The Precipice
Precipice (Photo credit: quinet)
There are moments in every life that I call “precipice” moments, when everything is turned upside down and you find yourself reeling at the edge of a proverbial cliff. It’s actually a physical sense, this loss of balance. The feeling that everything you once knew to be true cannot be trusted; you have very little to hold on to and feel certain of. You’re stuck in the moment in a way that is entirely unique to the precipice, and for that reason, you can recall certain details–a smell, what you were wearing–as if they are present, not memory.
The moment you find out your child has special needs is one of those. You find yourself returning to that moment again and again for years to come, wrestling with the emotions you felt then, and which surge upward again as if they’re brand new, no matter how much time and emotional distance has passed. You keep thinking someday you’ll stop remembering, but you never do, because the fact is, this is a pivotal moment in your life. Pivotal in the sense that the direction of your life is shifting upon that point in time.
In the past twelve months, our local Down syndrome family network has begun reaching out to hospitals, and we have been able to connect with families receiving a diagnosis of Trisomy 21. I feel blessed to be able to interact with people standing at that point, because here, I know I can help. I know what is needed is affirmation.
It’s always a doctor who delivers this lightning-bolt, and yet the most important things the families need to hear when receiving a diagnosis of Down syndrome are not medical. That stuff goes flying over your head; in the first hours and days, there’s nothing in your brain but this stark raving terror screaming over and over, “I CAN’T I CAN’T I CAN’T I CAN’T I CAN’T NONONONONONONONONO!” Just to filter that out enough to carry on a normal conversation is no easy task. The effort required to understand medical jargon is nothing short of epic.
There are only two things a new parent needs to hear, and unfortunately they probably sound condescending except from the lips of someone who’s stood in their shoes. So I share them today in the hopes that this post might reach someone who needs to hear them:
1. It’s going to be okay.
Daddy and Julianna, age 3 weeks
2. A newborn is a newborn is a newborn. A baby with Downs is not born delayed. He or she starts in exactly the same place as every other newborn. All babies are helpless, all babies do nothing but lie there, sleep and eat and make diapers. This is a universal truth that applies to children with Downs, too (barring some immediate medical emergency). Delays are a topic for later. That’s the beauty of God’s plan. If, at the moment of our children’s births, we knew everything that would ever cause us grief, none of us would be able to handle it. Delays, medical issues, and understanding unfold slowly, in manageable bites. Even if it doesn’t always feel that way. So take a deep breath and parent this baby one day at a time.
*
October is Down Syndrome Awareness month, and a lot of bloggers participate in “31 for 21,” promising to post every day on Trisomy 21 and related issues. I think I might even burn myself out if I tried that, to say nothing of you fine people, so I’m just going to devote Wednesdays to the topic of my darling girl. This post is adapted from one originally shared July 20, 2009.
October 9, 2012
Cracked Halo
Do you recognize the Scripture quote behind him? Do you find it ironic? I do.
It began with Christian shouting up the stairs on his way down to teach his last piano lesson of the night: “Boys, play with Michael!” By the time I got upstairs, less than a minute later, Nicholas was screaming at the top of his lungs…some conflict about who got to play with Michael. “It’s time to get ready for bed!” I told them, and Alex hopped to it, but Nicholas remained pressed up against the baseboard, wailing. Julianna pressed her hands to her ears.
I thought Nicholas’ behavior problems were solved after that last meltdown, but in the last few weeks they’ve been ratcheting back upward. Last night, ever since I told him he was done playing computer games, he’d been copping this attitude: “This whole day was boring!” he said over and over, and refused to eat his dinner. Ordinarily I’d feel a yank of crushing guilt, but I knew better. I took them out after lunch a) on a bike ride, b) to the neighborhood park, where c) he played on the playground and d) we flew the kite for the better part of an hour. He had a nice long nap. We played Hi-Ho Cherry-O after dinner. And how dare he complain about a boring day when he’s spent an hour painting Muck and Roly on the computer? (I started him on computer games so he’d start to develop mouse skills and some basic computer literacy, but now I’m questioning my own judgment!)
In the end, with Nicholas’ vocalizations ratcheting upward until they were freaking out both Michael and Julianna, I decided I’d better step in and just do for him what he wasn’t willing to do for himself. I pulled his clothes off, with him screaming and kicking and fighting me every step of the way. Christian resurfaced long enough to thunder, “GET IN THE BATHROOM!” and he obeyed, shoving Julianna (who was in the process of pulling her pants down to use the toilet) out of the way.
It spiraled downward from there and ended with Nicholas losing his movie/computer privileges and all bedtime books for the coming day (today). Michael wailing because Nicholas’ screaming had scared him. Julianna whimpering, her hands over her ears. Alex whispering that he felt responsible for his brother’s screaming. Me putting Nicholas in bed and closing the door on his screams.
I don’t know what to do. Alex went through this stage, but I don’t remember it lasting this long, and last night was without a doubt the single worst hour of my entire parenting career thus far, outside hospital stays, that is.
There are times when I think if any of my boys are called to religious life, he’s the one. But then I see this behavior, and I wonder. His grandparents and his schoolteachers think he’s the most easy-going, well-adjusted child, and I can see why; in public, he wears his halo straight and keeps an even keel, completely unflappable. Yesterday I called him the Crooked Halo child, and counted him among my top five blessings. To have this kind of night right afterward seems the height of irony. Crooked, nothing. Call it cracked.
This morning things are starting cautiously better. Perhaps last night was nothing but a tantrum. But I’ve been banking on Nicholas growing out of this stage, becoming tractable like Alex, and I can’t help wondering if this is simply who Nicholas is: strong-willed, impervious to reason and consequence, and hell-bent on dragging everyone else along for the ride.
Time for some marathon praying.
October 8, 2012
The Five Best Gifts Ever Given To Me
I have been blessed with many gifts in my life, but none more than these five, which can’t be put in any order from greatest to least, but only from first received to most recent:
The man who channels Carey Grant
The Lego lightsaber-builder
Miss Mischief
The cracked halo child
Mr. Moto Perpetuo
Blessed indeed.
October 6, 2012
Sunday Snippets
On Sundays, a bunch of Catholic bloggers get together over at RAnn’s This, That and the Other Thing to share what’s on our minds this week. My week in a nutshell….
A Regular Kid (more on Julianna’s kindergarten experience, and my first post for Down Syndrome Awareness Month)
And of course, 7 Quick Takes, including the cover art for my new book, due out in March 2013. I love this format. It’s so addictive.
October 5, 2012
7 Quick Takes
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Last week you all gave me such great feedback for my upcoming articles, I’m going to ask for your help again. It may seem ridiculously early, but I’m starting to think about book promotion for Joy to the World: Advent Activities For Your Family. Something that makes a huge difference to people considering a book purchase is having thoughtful reviews readily available. If you have used JttW and Bring Lent to Life with your families (or classrooms), would you consider writing a paragraph or two and posting it on the major book sites? Please don’t feel obligated to heap glowing effusions of praise; measured, thoughtful reviews are more helpful to potential buyers, anyway, even (and perhaps especially) if they include critique as well as praise. To make it easy, here are links to the books:
Joy to the World on Goodreads here, on Amazon here, and Barnes & Noble here.
Bring Lent to Life on Goodreads here, on Amazon here, and Barnes & Noble here.
Shameless self-promotion done. And now you need cute pictures.
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We take our kids’ portraits in the fall. Alex is such a stinker, so self-conscious. But I adore his expressions. Here’s a series that will never make the wall, but I just love them.
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Julianna loves to sing. Loves it. I can’t tell you how much she loves it. She has two volumes: deafening and earthquake-causing. And she’s coming to church with us every week now, even when we’re leading the choir. So……
Sorry about the blurry shot. This is what comes of an iPhone in the hands of a 7 year old.
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Speaking of choir practice…this week, on the way to church Wednesday night, we got started talking about why we don’t have a DVD player in the van. I thought I’d use it as a teachable moment. “You know, guys,” I said, “Daddy and I have chosen to have only one TV, so that we…”
“And the computer,” Alex piped up. “And the iPad.”
“Well…”
“And Daddy’s phone.”
Aaaaaaand….another ideal bites the dust. 
Curse you, technology! You are insidious! 
___5___
Guess what? I’ve recently been sent the cover art for my new book, This Little Light of Mine, due out in March 2013. It is the first book I’ve written with this much emphasis on the adults doing faith activities for their own sake as well as the kids’, and there’s a reason for that: this is the “ordinary time” book, using the Beatitudes to break open a life in which faith is an integrated part. I truly believe if we who call ourselves Christians would live our faith instead of talking so much about it, there would be a lot fewer ex-Christians. Anyway, how do you like this cover art? I love it!
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Well, I’ve been around the web a lot lately…here’s a Liguorian column on passing the faith to the next generation, and a guest post in which I identify (or not) with two saints who were mothers, and who chose martyrdom: Perpetua and Felicity. If you, like me, have heard those names and never looked at their story, you should. It’s a real reality check.
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It’s raining this morning! I slept on the couch from 12:30 on because Julianna got scared by lightning and thunder, and always has to sleep with Daddy on those occasions. I’m just so grateful it’s raining! The heat may be over but the drought is not. September was still dry, just not bone dry. Anyway, I’m just so thankful!
Have a great weekend, all!
October 3, 2012
A Regular Kid
She’s a charmer, my girl. Adults everywhere within her sphere of influence fall obediently like dominoes into line behind her, excusing her foibles and focusing on her angelic qualities. She knows it, and she knows how to use it. I can’t tell you how many times people have come to me literally hand to heart, sighing, “Oh, she is so sweet!” or “What a cutie!” or “Oh, we just love Julianna!”
I’ve gotten a bit smug about it, truth be told. Only her siblings, parents and grandparents are allowed to wag fingers and list her character flaws.
So her first kindergarten report was quite a shock. “She definitely needs the para,” her teacher said a little over a week into school. “When the para is working with other children, that’s when Julianna acts out, getting up and moving around the room, poking people or pulling hair.”
Irrational though it seems, my first instinct was to haul out the Mother Bear Claws. How dare you imply that my daughter doesn’t have a halo?
Now, don’t get me wrong. Her teachers like her just fine. But up ’til now, Julianna’s had a fan club comprised of a) friends of her parents and b) people in the disability field. Those who work with special needs are a special kind of person themselves, deep in empathy, with, I truly believe, a greater capacity for love than the rest of us.
It’s a wholly different matter to toss her into a regular classroom. I’ve loved every one of my kids’ teachers, but none of them have ever bonded to my children the way the special ed teachers and therapists bonded to Julianna in her first few years. How can they? The level of intimacy isn’t the same. In baby- and toddler-hood, it was one on one. In preschool, Julianna’s early childhood classroom had 9 students with at least 2 adults on hand at all times. It’s a far cry from a classroom with 18 (as Alex’s kindergarten class was) or 25 (as Julianna’s is).
As I talked myself down off the Mama Bear pedestal, I began to realize this is a pretty valuable thing we’re receiving. Now, Julianna is being treated much more like every other kid her age. Her teachers and therapists have always pushed her to do her best, but now it’s an unemotional expectation instead of a cheerleading squad behind her. Just like every other kid. She was always guided toward appropriate behaviors, but there was always a loving tolerance that no longer exists; now, she’s expected to do the right thing, just like everyone else.
It’s a gift for her to be treated like a regular kid. Christian and I are people pleasers, hard-wired to want to make authority figures happy, constantly analyzing and on the hunt for ways to pursue excellence. So is Alex. So it’s an adjustment for us to see our free-spirited little girl tear through the world on her own terms. It stretches our minds, and it stretches our hearts. But the more of life I live, the more I value being able (read that: made) to stretch.
On a more fundamental level, it’s such a blessing for her. It’s good for her to have her sense of self as center of the universe kept in check by not being above the “law.” It’s an understanding she needs in order to integrate into the world. So I’m sheathing my claws and embracing having a kid who doesn’t get glowing progress reports every week. Go Julianna. The world is yours.
*
October is Down Syndrome Awareness month, and a lot of people participate in “31 for 21,” promising to post every day on T21 and related issues. I think I might even burn myself out if I tried that, to say nothing of you fine people, so I’m just going to devote Wednesdays to the topic of my darling girl.
Related articles
Julianna’s New Schoolyear (kathleenbasi.com)
Miss Pooey Goes To Kindergarten (kathleenbasi.com)
Confounded by a Primary Composition Notebook (kathleenbasi.com)
October 2, 2012
Time To Take Care of Myself
Photo by elycefeliz, via Flickr
Monday of last week, I hired a babysitter and ate my lunch on top of the bluff, then trekked down into a creekbed to sit and be still for a couple of hours. At the end of that time I landed in a chair at the office of my massage therapist, who greeted me with, “And what can I do for you today?”
“I want my body back,” I said. I pointed to the spot on my back where I wince every time my foot slips; I told him about the stiffness, the certainty of postpartum pelvic tip. I told him about the knee that went out from under me and hasn’t been right since, the ankle I sprained in June and still caused pain. He asked questions to narrow down muscle groups, connecting in problems I hadn’t told him about but he knew had to be there based on my other symptoms (he’s just that good), and then we went to work.
It has been a difficult summer for staying active. The ankle never returned to normal after I turned around on the bottom stair in June and landed on the floor moaning while all four of my children gathered around in worry, and Alex asked, “Do I need to call 9-1-1?” I got back to running, but it always felt like it could go out from under me at any moment. Then came the knee, and I couldn’t even do my Pilates machine. Keeping up with 4 kids is very physical–so physical I’m weary bone-deep every night by the time they go to bed. It seems the height of injustice that as physical as my days are, and as tired as I am every night, I don’t see any impact on weight. (As an aside, Michael now weighs virtually the same as his cousin twice his age. Imagine carrying that up and down stairs ten times a day. And he never stops moving–holding or carrying him is like a nonstop wrestling match. I call him moto perpetuo.)
For weeks, I kept thinking over and over, I’m too young for this!
And then I realized: it’s not going to get any better on its own. If I don’t take care of this, I will not be the salt-of-the-earth active old lady I want to be–I will be bedridden.
“I want my body back,” I told Christian. “We just have to grit our teeth and spend the money to make it happen.” Bless him, he agreed. So I started PT, and I called the massage therapist. The PT couldn’t find anything actually wrong with the knee. Turns out it’s because it’s not the knee, it’s the rest of the body. The massage therapist connected the dots, showed me where my legs at rest are pointing out at duck-foot angles when they should be vertical, and how the abnormal tension in one group of leg muscles puts stress on everything else.
There’s too much to do–I don’t have time to do daily stretches in sets of sixty and massages over the course of months (hiring babysitters every time) to put myself back in healthy order. But you know what? The alternative is worse. Four big-baby pregnancies and four C sections on top of the musculo-skeletal problems I’ve always battled ensure that if I don’t take care of myself now, the active lifestyle I value so highly will be taken from me. So this is my reality now, and you know what? It feels good. I’m taking care of myself, making investments on my future by showing respect for the body God gave me to use on this earth. It feels right and proper. Even holy. And full of hope.
October 1, 2012
In This Season of Life
There are times when I realize I will never understand my children.
Like Julianna, who can drag a pile of “Your Baby Can Read” cards the thickness of a Tolstoy volume around the house…but when I tell her to put them away, she must do it one at a time. (Whimper, pick up a card, carry it to the other room, come back, whimper, pick up another card, carry it to the other room…)
Or Michael, who apparently feels an irresistible compulsion to climb the stairs, even though the instant he reaches the top, he turns around and starts wailing because no one else is up there, and he wants to be where everyone else is.
Or Nicholas, who must tattle on Michael and Julianna, even though I am standing right next to them both, with my eyes on them, and am perfectly capable of observing Michael’s or Julianna’s mischief for myself.
As I type this morning, the living room is strewn with papers hither and yon; in front of me the trash bags we stuffed into the unused gas fireplace for insulation glare unattractively, no longer hidden by the heavy, sharp brass grates we took down after Michael repeatedly yanked them down on himself. At the foot of the TV stand sits the rubber ducky I take up to the bathroom repeatedly, yet always seems to appear on this level of the house. Behind me, the kitchen is free of dirty dishes but not of clutter; the papers we from school get tossed every night, except the ones that require action, so you can imagine how that goes.
In short, this season of life is chaotic. There are things you expect from life with four kids, and yet there really isn’t any being prepared. This weekend, we had a wedding, children’s theater rehearsal, and a cub scout campout on Saturday, but nothing on Sunday, and the opportunity to do nothing was blissful. Soul food. I wish we (and here I’m speaking collectively, of all of you reading as well as my own family) could find a way to better balance between life-enriching activity and soul-needed rest. Because I know I’m not the only one in this position. It just seems like we, collectively, are so busy pursuing the goodness of life that we don’t have enough brain capacity available at any given moment to revel in the richness. And then twenty years down the line we regret having only skimmed the surface of life instead of drinking deeply.
Hardest of all is making a change. I ought to be able to shift my trajectory, but so far my efforts have not been successful. I suppose it’s another truism of life, that you can’t change others, only yourself. It’s just a lot harder when “yourself” happens to be the one responsible for keeping the schedule for a household of five other people who aren’t feeling the same need for change. Sometimes, you get overruled. And let’s be honest, my husband and my children are a lot better at living in the moment than I am. So maybe I’m really the one who has to change, anyway.
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.
*
Nicholas standing in a “wheat”-box (instead of “sand”box). Note the inside-out sweatpants. Nicholas’ self-dressing habits should be a post in themselves.
Can you imagine sending a big honkin’ bus like this, so long it needs two stop signs, for a teeny wisp of a girl like mine?
September 30, 2012
Sunday Snippets
It’s the weekend, and time to get together at RAnn’s This, That and The Other Thing to share what’s on our minds.
My week in a nutshell:
I need input on marriage and movies from you fine Catholic readers.
September 28, 2012
7 Quick Takes
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Write On Edge told us to share our writing goals this week. Since I can treat that succinctly, I’m using this as my first “quick take” this morning.
Publish short fiction.
Finish the current novel and start submitting again
Attend conferences (this one involves some pretty heavy-duty logistical planning to figure out the family care, so who knows)
Do excellent work on the magazine front, not just enough to get by
Do some promotion for my books on Advent, Lent and the forthcoming Beatitudes books
Most importantly, keep in balance with family life (a lesson I’ve had to learn this year)
___2___
I’m attending a class on the development, background and history of the Church’s social teaching, taught by a Dominican brother at our local Newman Center. It has been really interesting, and down the line I think I’ll share some of the tidbits I’ve found striking or challenging.
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Yesterday at class, a discussion came up about how best to serve the poor when you are getting dozens of calls and begging letters. He said, first, you can give $5 to everyone, or you can target. The saints who have been most effective in helping the poor, he noted, did so strategically. He also brought up something I’ve never heard of before: http://www.kiva.org/. You choose someone who needs a loan and donate toward it, and then they pay it back incrementally into your “account,” at which point you can pull it back out, or loan it again. Here’s more detailed information by way of an interview with the founder.
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Now I have questions for you, (especially the Catholic readers). I’ve been tasked with answering this question:
So you’re done with the wedding planning, now how do you be a Catholic married couple? How do you get/stay involved in the Church? We’re looking for social, service, ministry, faith formation–if you had it to do again, how would you use the newlywed years?
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Second question: I’m making a list of “7 old, standby Catholic movies to cozy up to during your first year of marriage.” In doing prep work for this, I’m finding that the golden age of Hollywood had lots, and I mean LOTS, of Catholic-friendly movies. As such, I’m inclined to steer clear of the obvious things like the Ten Commandments and go for the less obvious gems. So here’s my short list. I want you to vote (you can choose up to 7), and to make it easy for you, here is a poll! If you think I’m missing something, leave a comment.
Take Our Poll
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Look what landed in my mailbox recently!
(Hint: you can find them here and here.)
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Just because you needed a laugh
