Scissors, playgrounds, and a Mama Bear finding her roar.

**March is Cerebral Palsy Awareness Month. I plan to write and share and probably overshare here this month in an attempt to educate, and even celebrate the ways my family is unique. **

If you have been with me here for more than a minute, you probably know that I tend to be a glass half-full sort of girl. Often during those preschool years, I was just grateful for the fact that I got to have little babies in my arms longer than normal because of their early birth. I fully embraced that time. And yet....before I could blink -- or shower even -- my three were ready for preschool.

The admission meeting for our little preferred school -- Buttonwood -- was enlightening:

Teacher: "Can Claire dress herself?"

Me: "No....but is that a thing she should be able to do at three? Because that would be awesome!"

Teacher: "Can the triplets use scissors?"

Me: "How would I know? I have three-year-old triplets, there are NO scissors in our house!"

You get the idea.

Preschool was just two mornings a week. For two hours. I was a nervous wreck and frankly I missed their little faces. Benjamin, Mason, and Claire adored it!

And then it was time to visit kindergartens and think about their formal education.

It didn't start smoothly. I loaded my babies and we went to visit the private school in our community where most of my friends sent their children. I have to fight tears just remembering that headmaster sitting across his desk from the four of us. 

"Mrs. Shrader, this is what we can do," he began. "We'll enroll your children on a three-month probationary period. If in three months it proves too hard on my teachers, we will have to ask you to find somewhere else for them to attend school."

Looking back on the moment, I know my Mama Bear voice was not as firm as it might be today, I was not quite five years into it. But even so, I cleared my throat and looked that man in the eyes as I said, "Really? And you think starting kindergarten on PROBATION is the best way to set them up for success? I cannot even imagine the stress that would place on them and on us as a family. No thank you."

We visited other schools before landing on the local public elementary school. The principal was warm and welcoming and the teachers in no way made us feel burdensome.

And yet, three days into their kindergarten year, Mason burst in to tears when I asked him about his day:

"I can't play with my friends. They won't let me go down to the playground."

I had no idea what was going on but the Mama Bear inside me was growing with each moment. I looked at my sweet boy and promised him I would fix it. I was in the principal's office the next morning as soon as I dropped them at school. 

"The playground is old and down in a ravine," she told me. "It would be dangerous for Mason to even get to it."

She told me they had petitioned for a new playground to be built behind the school on level ground but it wasn't high on the district's priorities. I asked if I could start a fund-raising campaign for an accessible playground, so desperate was I to make this work for my babies (I had said I would fix it after all.). Our principal said she would support it 100 percent.

I started by calling the school district. Principal was correct. They had it on their list to improve the playground but it might be ten years before that happened.

I contacted an accessible playground maker. He brought me catalogs and showed me the wide-range of access he could offer the students at our school. It was amazing.

And we would need a minimum of $40,000.  $70,000 would be better.

Undaunted, I began by assembling a team. Two moms in the triplets' classroom got behind me immediately. We started holding planning meetings and quickly learned we needed to be under the PTA's umbrella for this to work. It never occurred to me that might be a problem.

It should have. One mom legitimately stood up and said she was fine with the current playground. There was no need for the new one. I wasn't prepared to argue. I assumed this was a no-brainer -- all our children playing together seemed a win-win for all of us. I assured her, and the PTA, that I would do the work with my committee. We wouldn't ask for them to do anything. Further, I assured them we would not take funds from any other project they already had earmarked for the year. Hindsight has not helped me reconstruct this situation at all. All these years later, I still do not understand the way this one mother fought the playground -- and rallied her friends to do the same. I was a newcomer and could easily have lost this battle. But the teachers at our little elementary school were fierce. They had heard the rumblings far earlier than I. They showed up to that PTA en masse and voted 100% in favor of moving forward with raising funds for the accessible playground.

So my little committee went to work. We wrote and sent hundreds of letters. We wrote and sent press releases. We reached out to every news outlet in the Rochester area.  We held a penny drive at school. The principal gave prizes for the classroom who raised the most. One day my dear friend brought her son to our home. Joshua went to a different elementary school. He wouldn't get the benefit of the playground. But he knew his friends were trying to build one. He took his piggy bank to his mom and asked her to give it to me. I could not hold back my tears.

After one news program aired a piece on the playground I received a call from an older lady in the community. She planned to write me a check but first she needed me to assure her that only those "two cute little boys" she saw on the news would get to play on the playground (she was referring to my boys). Those other kids could play anywhere she said. I tried to explain inclusion. She didn't understand but her heart was in the right place.

At the end of the school year, we had raised $17,000. We were grossly short. I was sad -- I had wanted the playground built and ready when first grade began -- but I was not undeterred. It would just take longer.

In July, I received a phone call from the playground company. They had assembled an accessible playground for their catalog photos. They were willing to disassemble and rebuild it at our school for a fraction of the cost if we were interested. And by fraction, I mean they were willing to do it for just a few thousand more than we had collected. I immediately called the school district and they chipped in the extra dollars. 

We started first grade with a playground that allowed my boys to be included with their friends. We started first grade with a way to participate in the most important aspect of elementary school -- RECESS!

I am just going to be totally honest here: I felt pretty confident we could bulldoze our way over any and every obstacle. Mama Bear was feeling a bit smug.

(You know this isn't over, right?! Come back later this week!)

You know, that time of year...

When I was growing up, we received a big box every year at the end of July. The box was sent from my Dad's company and was packed full of all manner of wonderful things -- crayons, markers, notebook paper, spiral notebooks and pencils. This company-wide gesture faithfully made me smile from ear to ear.

The box always contained more than we could possibly use in one school year -- and really, that was half the fun. My mom would help us divide the surplus and we would make care packages for my cousins. Oh, I loved delivering those bundles of school supplies. It was my little way of spreading the back-to-school cheer. Yea, I was cool that way.

So today, when I was strolling the aisles of Target with only one item on my list, you'll forgive me if I was pulled to the school supply section and found myself loading my basket. Oh the smells brought back the sweetest memories. (I miss my Daddy even more than those big ole' boxes of school supplies!)

I, of course, came home all cool about it -- the supplies were for Cate, after all. But briefly, in the car, with the smell of crayons and erasers intoxicating me, I was transported back in time.

Can I encourage you to go and make some crayon-smelling memories with your children? It is a blessing they will forever remember!

Not back to school...

School started yesterday in our neighborhood. Even when I came home from the gym (at too-early-thirty), the teenagers were standing at the curb waiting on the bus for the high school. I knew in houses all along our street first-day photos were being taken and backpacks loaded.

And for the first August ever...we were not among the ones getting lunches packed and children loaded. Our first full home school year won't kick off until after Labor Day (giving Benjamin some needed-healing time!) so I had some time to think about the day!

I couldn't ignore the fact that THIS year, I am not stressing about educating everyone who comes into contact with my boys; stressing about making sure all their needs are being met; stressing about the logistics of moving from room to room without Mason being trampled; just stressing period.

So, while I know stress will come as we begin work...do you mind if I relish the joy and excitement of starting our first year together at home?! I am so excited!! The curriculum makes me smile -- and I think we are going to have an outstanding year!!

Ah, and the blessing of a few more weeks of summer break...that one surely shouldn't be forgotten!!

Celebrating Benjamin as he recovers...getting everyone and a dog to look at the camera simultaneously...not so easy!

Needing a break from all the spin...

Sometimes life starts spinning at full tilt, like our favorite Teacup ride at Disneyland but without the kind-hearted operator who knows exactly when to hit the stop button before we all get sick. Our Fall was pretty much just that.

So much was coming at us -- some things just plain silly. Some downright aggravating. Some anxiety-provoking. And then some completely NOT unexpected and yet blind-siding at the same time.

My Benjamin has Cerebral Palsy. He uses a super cool Power Wheelchair to ambulate...and he can zoom to and fro much much faster than I can ambulate anywhere. He has: A heart of gold. A personality that makes friends easier than anybody in the family. A brain that remembers the itsy-bitsy minutiae that the rest of us never even notice (Like being able to recite our van's license plate yesterday when I had to call our insurance agent to report the dings made by a sweet lady at church who backed into us on the way out of the parking lot...ah, but that is another tale, entirely.) A love for his Mommy that is completely undeserved but oh-so-appreciated.

And a pair of hips that are precariously close to dislocating and causing him all manner of pain. He needs surgery. A big hip surgery. Soon.

I've known since he was little that this was a possibility. By six, that it was a probability. And yet, when Dr. Daddy reviewed the x-rays (he's useful for so many reasons...reading x-rays prior to our "official" doctor arriving is one of them!) and looked at me, I still felt the breath whoosh out of my lungs as if I had been punched.

Hip surgery. My 11-year-old. Casting to follow. Possibly for weeks and weeks.

And then there is this: Wade is the specialist in our area that does this surgery. Daddy.

So now, we have to find a surgeon among Wade's colleagues. Probably out of state. And decide when to schedule this surgery (possibly two surgeries depending on the surgeon's opinion.).

All of a sudden, the spinning was too much. I can't stop it. I can't even get off (nor would I...the teacups are my favorite for a reason I guess.). But I needed to make a change. To grasp at control of some aspect of all the crazy swirling around us.

And so as of today: The Shrader trio (and their very eager 3-year-old sister) are being home schooled by this Mommy who desperately needed to control something in our lives -- at least their days, their calendar, and our ability to remove the school calendar from the equation when planning this surgery.

Today was delightful. I loved it. Not sure if it was just having these kiddos with me -- I was the worst of basket-cases when they started kindergarten -- or watching them absorb the knowledge I was putting out there, or their eager faces as we studied Russian Poetry and the life of the Russian poet, something completely new. Or maybe, and I'm not afraid to admit it, it was just nice to be finished with "school" in time for Band (they are still doing that daily) at noon and have the rest of the afternoon to our self. (Read: NO HOMEWORK.)

Whatever. Today was a blessing. And in the midst of a season of uncertainty, of this I am certain: God has opened a door for me to enjoy this little bit and I plan on doing just that. (I may need to whine now and again...please don't think I won't...you'll let me, right?)

But regardless, my friends, no matter the speed of the spin, God is always on His throne and He knows exactly when to hit the stop button.

6th Grade looks a lot like camp...

The sixth graders at our school have been at Outdoor Ed -- a program in the piney woods of Arizona where they learn about all manner of outdoor wonders! Unfortunately for us, the camp was not as accessible as we needed it to be. So Claire went for the entire time, but the boys were only able to attend Tuesday -- with Mommy's help! (We arrived right after breakfast and stayed until those campers were headed to bed...goodness knows we didn't want to miss anything, although it meant a very late bedtime!)

Surrounded by an amazing fragrance of pine, lake and cooler temps, Mason and Benjamin tried their hands at fishing. Mason loved it and is eager to try again; but Benjamin found he much prefers laughing and talking to sitting quietly! (I don't know WHERE he came from!)

Tie-dying was a craft -- and a fun one at that. My trio had their own minds to be sure -- and it was a joy to watch them put their creativity to use.
Skit night was a hoot -- sixth graders are funny! My boys' skit is still making me chuckle -- and you know the drama team that is the Shrader Trio loved every minute of this particular activity!!
My kids by campfire-light -- what could be better! I must confess that I NEEDED to sing some praise songs to the Lord sitting around this fire with all these precious children. Oh, I was itching...

S'mores. Really. Could there be anything more delicious?!

And so we are home...smelling a bit worse for the wear, needing to do some serious sleeping, but smiling from ear-to-ear. Ah, the joys of being 11, of the smell of a good campfire, and of Godly friends stepping in to make things work and of course, the s'more. Blessings, in deed.

Praise update

Week two of sixth grade has commenced. And I thought you would want to know that so far we are doing beautifully! I say we because frankly, I feel every bit as if I am right there with them. Perhaps that will lessen as we get more entrenched, but for now, I am pondering whether or not I get additional credit for completing sixth grade a second time? Hmmm..

As you may know from my pre-sixth grade post, I was anxious about Benjamin's aide and the fact that one had not been hired. And then they did hire one. And he never showed up for work. And then they called for a substitute and she never showed up either. And then they set up interviews and only ONE of the two applicants showed up. BUT God was at work all along (as if we doubted...) and when the district contacted a temp agency to send a second substitute this one DID show up and he is amazing! A father and husband, this is an enormous but gentle man who commands respect with his mere presence. As one student in the cafeteria was overheard whispering, "Well, he just has 'Don't mess with Benjamin!' written all over his chest!" (To which this Mommy was heard to say, "Thank you, Lord and AMEN!")

The teachers love him thus far and Benjamin felt comfortable enough today that my presence was not needed (of course that may affect my acquisition of more sixth grade credits!). A big huge step!! Please join me in praying that all the paperwork goes through for Mr. D to join the staff permanently.

Claire and Mason are doing well also -- making new friends, learning new routines and remembering how to do homework. All in all, we are hanging in there! (And Cate is enjoying some serious Mommy time and has quickly remembered that homework means she gets to go spend time with Uncle Len all by herself...and she puts forth her "wrapping the uncle tightly around her finger" skills with exuberance! ha)