NaClO

Kevin used to hate Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You.” He managed in retail for 4 years. So, every Christmas, Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You” blared over every TV in the store on a loop. Multiple times a day for months will really make you hate a song. 

I have a confession. I LOVE Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You.” I’ve suppressed it for years. I knew he hated it and I didn’t want him to endure that kind of torment. I don’t know about you but a song I hate on a loop is my own personal hell. But today, he told me “oh, it’s not so bad…seeing you light up and singing and dancing to it down the aisles at Target makes me happy; so, I enjoy it.” 

I used to hate December 15th. It crept up on me one year and my mental health took a nose dive. To me, it meant I was a failure. Not enough while simultaneously too much. It was a prison. But, I’d serve a million life sentences if Kevin was waiting on me when I got out.

Kevin taught me how to bleach on December 15th. We started dating two weeks later on NYE. He’s shown me love and care greater than I’ve ever known. He is the other half of my soul. He’s the best part of my day. And the most wonderful part of all of this is he is just as obsessed with me as I am with him. What a blessing it is to argue with someone that you love them more than they love you. Suddenly and all at once, December 15th became my very favorite day.

And that’s what we do for each other. We right wrongs. We rewrite each other’s history with something better. Something new and beautiful. Bleach day is forever commemorated on our arms. People in the grocery store walk up to me and say, “I HAVE to know the story about the bleach.” Because after all nothing brings two people together quite like sodium hypochlorite (NaClO).

Hard Questions.

All my life, I've asked myself hard question after hard question. But, I never allowed myself to answer them. I was too afraid that in order to answer them I would have to be my true self. And to me, that was very, very frightening. There's always this box that society expects you to fit in. And of course the box is one size fits all, and my body was never in the one size fits all category. So one day I decided that I wanted to fix the outside of myself. I had a gastric bypass and I lost the weight. Great! Now I can fit in the box. But, as it turns out, the box sucks. I wanted out immediately. I don't need to fit in anyone's box but my own. 

So, now it's time for the inside. I went to therapy and got down to the real inner work. Let me tell you, it was exponentially harder to fix the inside than it was to fix the outside. Losing the physical weight was effortless. It just fell off. Like nothing. I learned to listen to my body. I learned what foods didn't agree with me. I learned how much was too much. More importantly, I learned what being full actually felt like and anything past that was physically painful. The inside was more complex. Bribing yourself into being "happy" with food is not true happiness, friends. Once the food was gone, I was so hopeless and lost and my mental health had deteriorated. I yelled at my kids. I fought with Kevin for no reason. Just a miserable woman masking as the happiest woman on planet earth. It was utterly exhausting. I did it for years. Until one day, I decided enough is enough. And slowly, I started answering hard questions. Starting with, "When is enough enough?" Right. Damn. Now.

Then I proceeded to think about what kind of wife I wanted to be. Making marriage a priority was not optional. It was boundary number one. Kevin showed me what it's supposed to be like. God knew what he was doing. Kevin came into my life at the start of it all. The unravelling. It took a lot of time but he fixed what he didn't break. And it was no longer "marriage IS hard." It became "marriage WAS hard."

Next, I've got to be a better mama. How can I best serve Noah and Kate? Both together and separately. That one was tough. 

Autism is a fickle thing. One minute you're cursing its name and the next you feel so guilty about it. Then, somebody asks you "if you could cure his autism would you?" Another hard question. Autism doesn't define Noah, but it is a huge part of who he is. Would I erase his struggles? In a heartbeat or a New York minute depending on which is faster. Would I erase his kindness, his smile's mood lifting ability, his hugs healing broken pieces inside of me, his love of making playlists? Hard pass.

That second one. The girl who's my carbon copy. How do you raise yourself? Literally, how? Only by learning who I was could I become the mother she deserved. She's a people pleaser to her core and she is an acts of service girlie. Just like her mama. I can show her that it's acceptable to ask for help. You do not have to carry all your bags alone. I want to be the embodiment of follow through. Letting Kevin care for me the way that he does took a really long to time to accept. However, when it clicked, it altered my brain chemistry. All I want in the world is for Kate to be as happy as I am despite any circumstances. We will always be loved and protected. And I'd love to note that Kate sings at the top of her lungs a large portion of her waking hours. Let me ask you a hard question...do you ever sing when you're unhappy?

All of this is about healing and just sitting with yourself and answering the hard questions. I've been afraid to be myself for the majority of my life because I've always felt I was too much or not enough. Turns out, I've always been enough. Every version of myself has been enough. Even the really hard to love version of myself was enough. It all led us here. Right where we're supposed to be. Every event in my life has led to right now. I am just right. Kevin lets me know every single day without complaint. He validates every single feeling I have. God knew I needed a man who was tolerant and accepting. And he carries my physical and metaphorical bags with a smile. His eyes never wander from mine and mine never wander from his. If I hadn't met myself at my worst, my best wouldn't have been brave enough to enter the chat. Becoming the best version of myself made me realize that I had to go through those really hard times to end up here. I felt guilty about it for a considerable amount of time. Time I can't get back.

Kevin and I rehashed it often. Ultimately, I realized that my guilt couldn't build a time machine to go back and change things. And, ironically, if it could rewind time, I wouldn't change a thing. 

True Love Waits.

 I wanna tell y'all a secret. It's not really a secret but it is very important. LOVE. YOUR. SPOUSE. Easy right? Seems like it should be. But do you?

I firmly believe that Kevin Dreaden is who I was put on this earth to find. My invisible string. My one true love. My only exception. My guy. And I also firmly believe he's crazy to have stayed. Let me explain. 

We've been together for 12 years. Married for 10. I have been so miserable with myself for these last 10 years that I never let him in. I pushed him away for so, so long. And he stayed. I've always had anxiety. My anxiety isn't a nervous, picky anxiety. It's mean and angry. It lashes out and hurts people I love the most. Hurt people hurt people. Misery loves company is a true statement. That's a hard realization to come to-realizing you're kind of an asshole. It was shocking and made perfect sense all at the same time.

I've done the "outside" work. Now, I'm working tirelessly on the inside. Figuring out why I'm anxious and why I was so unhappy. It's a myriad of things really. Things that aren't important. But it's working. I had a breakthrough a few months ago that I'm finally ready to share. It was late. Kids were asleep and he and I were just chatting and it all hit me at once. The tears, the epiphany, the extreme feelings of regret, and the most intense feeling of love I've ever felt. HE STAYED. I'm absolutely losing it. Snotty crying and incomprehensible. I ask him. "Why did you stay? I was so mean and horrible to you." He looked me dead in my eyes and said everything I've ever needed to hear. Something that I've needed for such a long time. And it was short, concise and to the point. And if you know Kevin, that's gonna be a little funny to you because he's always long winded and thorough. He said, "because I love you and I knew you'd get here."

He could've threw up a peace sign and bounced. I gave him every opportunity. I was so sad and so mean. So undeserving. But, that's when we need to be loved, and loved properly, the most. He saw what could be.

He's everything everyone deserves. What we are all searching for. All the descriptions of love in books and movies. He is all of that. It's more apparent every day that he and I were supposed to find each other. It was always meant to be him and me. It's this. Right now, that's what it's all about. This is what they're talking about when they speak about being "happy." 

I still have much work to do, but, I have all the support I could ever need in Kevin. I've had kind of a crisis of faith in the last couple years, but, I know there is a good Lord above us because of the grace I have been granted when I most certainly didn't deserve it. I really lost the weight when I figured out how to lose the weight of everyone else's expectations. And that, friends, is the real miracle. 

HE STAYED. So I will prove to him that he made the right decision for the rest of my days here. Love you all so much!

The Real MVP.

It's fall break. The weather is getting cooler. Post season baseball. The wildest college football season I've ever seen. The best time of year. Halloween is around the corner which means Thanksgiving, Christmas and the New Year are a blink in time away. 

We've had a great fall break. Time with Grammy and Nik Nik and several days at the beach! We were riding down the road last night after dinner and this conversation ensued. 

Noah: "MAMA! Need *what sounded like "turtles"*

Me: "You need turtles?"

Noah: *what sounded like something about a tree*

Me: "Buddy, I have no idea what you're saying..."

Kate: very matter of fact, "Mama, he said he needs his toiletries..."

Noah: very excited, "yes...toiletries!"

Me: to Kate, "you're the real MVP!" 

What would I do without this girl? I know alot of my updates are about how Noah is doing and what is happening with him. But, this girl deserves her own update. She's navigating big feelings and overcoming her anxieties. She is EXACTLY like me. Flips at the smallest inconvenience and loves with all she has. I have said this for as long as I can remember that I don't deserve her but I have to tell you. She's exactly what I NEED. She is kind, she is nurturing and most of all she is pure love. She always makes sure to tell everyone something nice. Just a little something to make somebody else feel good. She's everything we all need.

I've also been navigating some big feelings in recent months. I've recently begun therapy to get a handle on some inner feelings and have made some big realizations about myself. And sometimes I have a little break through and cry a bit. I know everyone has their feelings about whether or not parents should cry or show big emotions in front of their kids. But, I want her to know that it's ok to feel your feelings. After all, she is mine. And I've always been an emotional creature. And personally, I think it's important and will be better for her in the long run to tackle these feelings and emotions as a kid instead of a thirty-something adult. She needs good, strong coping mechanisms now. But let me tell you about this girl. She ALWAYS wipes my tears. It's never "why are you crying?" And it's always, "Mama, are you alright?" Her tender heart is my favorite thing about her. And there's something about being a child's favorite girl. She's healed parts of me I didn't even know were broken. And the best part of all of this is she doesn't even realize it. She doesn't realize how wonderful and special she is. A true gem in this world. I know there's a God because I seem Him in her every, single day and that my friends is what I'm most thankful for. 

Home Run Heroes

Today was the best day. Noah has been talking about playing baseball for YEARS. At least once a day asking for his own bat and his own helmet. Well, today his dream came true. There's a butcher in Spring Hill called Light Hill Meats. And my dad frequents there. They had some hats on display. Of course my dad inquired about them and they told him it was to support a special needs baseball league for special needs people of all ages called Home Run Heroes. It was like fate. He got me some contact information and I emailed the owner and commissioner of the league and within two days, Noah was on a team. 

We arrived in Thompsons Station. I was a little anxious about it. I never know how a new situation will play out. Will Noah's squeals and wandering be disruptive? Will his garbled speech make people uncomfortable? Will he laugh inappropriately? None of it mattered. Just a bunch of special needs families cheering on each other. We met Mr. Ben who’s the coach of the team Noah is on-The Reds. I introduced Noah to Mr. Ben and Noah gave a high five and looked in this man's eyes that he met for all of five seconds and said, "I love Mr. Ben." I wish y'all could've seen it. Ben smiled at Noah and all that anxiety that I was feeling just faded in an instant. Noah knows people. I don't know how or why but he does. He sees things that we can't.

It smelled like grass and new uniforms. Not too sunny, a bit of wind, perfect weather for baseball. Noah's smile was the brightest I've ever seen. And under my sunglasses, joy leaked from my eyes and streamed down my face. Finally. My boy could play baseball like he'd always wanted. No one snapped their heads in disgust at his squeal. Everyone waved back when he shouted, "HEY!" Everyone was kind and patient and let those kids play. They celebrated every hit and everyone got to run around the bases. They got unlimited pitches and unlimited civility. They didn't keep score but for one hour those kids were baseball MVPs. 

Each child was paired with a "buddy;" a player from a high school baseball team, so for one hour the family members could cheer and be fans. Something we all have longed to be. Those boys were precious. They talked to them like people and cheered for them just like a family member would. It was just as good for those boys as the kids. The patience they exuded was amazing to see. I hope they carry it with them for a while and are kind to people because of that experience. Noah was put on first base during defense. And his buddy talked to him the whole time. He was tall with blonde hair and kind eyes. I didn't even catch his name. But, I know his mama is proud of him. He showed my boy compassion and kindness. I wish I had introduced myself and told him thank you. I'm crying as I'm even typing this. So where ever you are, "buddy", I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Noah laughed and ran and played with JOY, giggling with every ball he threw to the pitcher. I played ball in a million games. In the rain. In the sunlight. And I think a time or two while it flurried snow. But, this was my FAVORITE game I've ever watched. Something I took for granted so many times, was priceless today. Just a boy who loves baseball. You know they say you should never meet your hero because you'll be disappointed. Well my hero plays on the Light Hill Meats Reds and wears number eleven. 

If you're reading this and want to come to a game, he'll play in two more games. May 5 and May 26. Games are at 1PM in Thompsons Station. We'd love to see you there. Reach out to me and I'll get you the address. 

The Hardest Part

Hello friends. Welcome back. For those of you that are new here, I'll recap. I am Nikki. Wife, Autism Mom, Neuro-typical Mom, Nurse, Braves Fanatic, Dawg4Life, and mostly I'm just doing the best I can. Lots have changed since we were last together. I FINALLY went back to school and got that RN that I've been dreaming of for almost 15 years. Got a new job which I love. The best coworkers anyone could ask for with similar backgrounds and I truly feel that I finally belong somewhere. Now to the good stuff....

If you are unaware, I am an Autism mom. My sweet, angel baby Noah is thirteen and is on the Autism Spectrum. Diagnosed just shy of his third birthday so we are over ten years in. People often say to me, "I don't know how you do it." It's simple really. What other choice do I have? He is a bright spot on a cloudy day. Full of love and giggles and cheese bread. My gentle giant. My big bear hug when I've had a long day. My lover of Taylor Swift. My purpose. He truly saved my life. And gave me something I could never repay. Parents are supposed to be teaching their kids all these life lessons. He's taught me more than I could ever teach him. He's taught me about true acceptance. He's taught me about unconditional love. He's taught me to revel in the victories, no matter how small. 

In the last few months, I've come to get to know a precious adult with Autism. He's kind and gives great hugs and smiles so big when he sees me. I know people on the spectrum can come on strong. That's their way sometimes. But, I swear to you, it's kinda like looking into the future. A tiny glimpse as to what Noah's future holds. Their similarities are astounding. I look forward to the days I know I'll get to see him. I really think I was supposed to get to know this man and God really takes care of us in that way. In His timing.

For me, the hardest part of all this is the unknown. When you have children, your brain paints a picture. It's truly beautiful. They start school, play sports or act in plays or play in the band, learn to drive, go to the prom, go to college, get married, and have their own children. You're picturing it, aren't you? Is it beautiful? I know it is. I pictured it, too. And on August 5, 2013, my painting turned to gray. And that's ok! It's so hard, but it's ok. Noah is growing and thriving and I am truly grateful for everyone we've met on our journey that had a hand in his growth. But I mourned all those things. And that's the best advice I can give to newly diagnosed families. You have to mourn. If you don't, you cannot be the best for your children. I'm absolutely not saying that Noah will never go to the prom or move out but he'll never drive a car because he has no sense of danger. I'll drive him around happily until I am no longer able. But, the unknown is so anxiety inducing. No amount of preparation makes it better.

I worry everyday what will happen to Noah when I die. It's just something that comes along with this. And something I don't think is talked about enough. I'm basically raising his caregiver. And then I feel more guilt and anxiety because that's a lot to ask of someone. But Kate is resilient and I know in my heart she'd move mountains for her brother and to be honest that helps me sleep at night. Their relationship is beautiful to watch. It's so pure and precious.

I often pretend to be busy and just listen in on them. She's always quizzing him. "Noah, yes or no, do you want to watch a movie?" Even talking in a way to give him the words to say. She is truly wiser than seven years old. They sit at the kitchen table watching videos and she's asking him, "Noah, can you say monkey." And he says "monkey." We call her the "Speech Therapist." She taught him to talk. It wasn't me. It was Kate. She exceeds my expectations of what siblings can be for each other daily. And that's what I'm most thankful for. 

My sweet Noah I hope you always shout out "HEY!" and wave to people. I hope you always walk into a room asking about a pizza tomorrow. I hope you always lay in the bed with me and Kate and watch Disney movies alternating who gets to choose. I hope you yell, "I love....." in reference to whoever we are talking about. I hope you keep getting more independent. I hope you always want to FaceTime. I hope you always shout what song you want to hear when we all get in the car. I hope you always sit your chair close to the entrance of the ball field so you can greet everyone. I hope you always greet me at the top of stairs when you hear the garage door open. I hope you always ask to go see the Braves and yell "I love baseball" every summer. I hope you always cuddle your puppies and give treats. I hope you always teach people to love. Because you do. Everyday. I am better because of you. If I am anything, it is because I am your Mama. You bring out the best version of me. Even though the hardest part is really hard, the best parts are even better because you shine so bright. I hope you always shine so bright my sweet Noah.

The Bottom of the List

Well friends, 2019 is almost done. What a year! This year was about self reflection and bettering myself. I definitely want to be a better wife, sister, daughter, friend, etc, etc, etc...but most of all I want to be a better MOM!

I have always been the type of human to over process and over analyze everything. You name it. I overthink it. All of it. So naturally when I found out I was pregnant with Noah, I went right to wondering if I’d be a good mama, but all women do that. Then when we got our Autism diagnosis, it was a spiral! Will he talk? Will he... won’t he... so many thoughts. It’s amazing to me that I’m not as worried about him talking as he gets older. I'm more worried about if he's kind, if he's smiling, and if he's happy. It's so taboo, a person's ability to talk says nothing about his or her level of happiness, yet that is the question I'm asked most. "Do you think he'll ever talk?" It's never, "is he happy?' I know everyone asks with nothing but love in his or her heart, but talking is kind of overrated. Think about it... How many words do you say in a day as opposed to how many words you speak in your own mind. Are the results overwhelming? Mine are. I'm a talker. Everyone of y'all right now are shaking your head "yes." But, y'all, my mind is in overdrive 100% of the time. I’ve been thinking about this  "talking situation" a lot the last year. But, honestly, does the ability to talk have anything to do with your worth as a human being? Absolutely not! Seems to me that talking is at the bottom of a long list. We all have our challenges. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. Noah's strength is his smile. He could move mountains with that grin of his. Missing teeth. Dimples. A smile has come across my face as I am typing. He amazes me in more ways than one. He gives 110% to a task. He can put Legos and puzzles together like a master engineer. He loves to make us proud. He'll vacuum all day, everyday and fold towels like a boss. And I refuse to list any weaknesses. He is perfect in his mama's eyes.

Challenges are a bit of a different story. Challenges do not equal imperfections. It just means we work a little harder in some areas. Noah has to work a little harder to communicate, to get his point across, to follow directions and perform simple tasks. But he's learning. It's something new everyday. Most recently he's learned to make his own grits. Bowl, two packets, one cup of water, stir carefully, microwave thirty seconds. ENJOY! I am amazed. He can pour his own cereal and juice in a cup. I know this seems so small and simple but if you didn't know sometimes Autism affects motor skills and it takes some skill to pour from a huge jug full of juice and hit an opening in a cup. He gives it his all. And sometimes it's perfect and sometimes it spills. But he gives his all to clean it up. Still a bit wet and sticky but dang he sure does try. Life is wet and sticky sometimes.

Special needs parenting is hard. It's lonely, it's isolating, it's heartbreaking sometimes. I know I paint a rosy picture. The landscape is beautiful and the sky is blue. The water is so clear you can see to the bottom. But sometimes when no one‘s looking it’s coming a flood in my picture. Only a few people see because I’m so afraid to fail. The clouds roll in and it gets dark. I don’t want anyone to see how sad and hopeless I feel sometimes. That I feel like the worst mom in the history of motherhood. I smile and I laugh and I joke. But, sometimes I am so overwhelmed that I build a wall so high that no one can climb it. Some days I don’t want my picture to be rosy, I just want it to rain and rain and rain and then maybe everyone will understand. But then, there's a light. And the raining stops. A sweet, little boy and little girl climb the wall and smile at their mama who in their eyes can do no wrong. If that's not a reason to repaint, then I don't know what is...

Failing is what makes us human. It’s what makes us get it right after so many times doing it wrong. We finally learn that maybe there is a different way. And when we finally get it right, it makes it so much better. It just seems to me that we could all use a little nonverbal in our life. A kind smile means so much. A kiss on the head to let me know he's thinking about me. But this year, he's blossomed more than ever. The defining moment was probably eighteen months or so ago. I'm cooking super. Noah brings me a Mickey Mouse dvd. I pop it in. He points and says, "Mickey!" Since then, the flood gates have opened. He's talking all over the place. He counts. I cry. He asks to go to "Nanny and Pawpaw's house." My parents come and get him and Kate and off to Nanny and Pawpaw's they go. He names animals we see when we're out driving, he hollers out "TRAIN!" when the whistle blows, he tells us what holidays are during the month we're in. I could literally go on forever. Definitely longer than y'all want to read. The progress is never ending.

I've always hoped for the best. Always. But over the last six years there have definitely been chunks of time when I really thought Noah might be non-verbal for the foreseeable future. That is something I've only shared with a few people. As a special needs parent you have to hope for the best while preparing for the worst. And by no means is Noah being non-verbal forever the "worst." But you get the saying. I have never been so happy to be wrong in my life. Sometimes you don't realize how much your heart wants something on the bottom of the list.

Thanks for the read once again.
All my love,
Nikki