all things calvary...

in 11 days calvary will be turning 5 years old. 5 is such a big deal to me. this is the year that calvary will start school. this is the year that it takes a whole hand to signify how many years old he is. this is the year that he can no longer fit in clothes at babyg@p. this is the year, that in so many ways, shows that calvary is no longer my baby. one of the things i love best about this blog is that i have such a detailed account of the lives of my children. things i would have otherwise forgotten are detailed here. it was here that i used the tag "the world of calvary" to note posts that deal with my oldest boy. it was also here that i documented his first birthday. it was also this blog that helped me connect the dots to the reality that all was not quite "right" with him. the reality behind "the world of calvary" is poetic in a way now. the world in which calvary lives and sees is wonderful and abstract. but it is also different and different is not always easy. some days my heart breaks for calvary. i watch him struggle to make friends. i watch from the outside as he wants to play with kids at the park and he has no clue how to make the transition. i secretly hate the kids that casually ignore his awkward introductions. my heart slumps to my gut when he works up the courage to talk to someone and that courage goes unnoticed. other days my head is so frustrated with this boy. those are the days that i have dealt with him exploding and lashing out on someone because they were singing too loud or touching him or following him or any other number of misdeeds. those are the days that i have had to comfort a panic stricken child because i forgot to tell him i was heading upstairs. those are the days that i have dealt with trying to teach my 2 year old that his older brother's reactions are not always the ways we should act. occupational therapy has taken us so far but there are moments when i realize how much stress little calvary carries with him everyday. he is trying to understand and cope with emotions and nonverbal communication that he doesn't get every minute of every day. he has used me as a safe zone. i am a place of refuge for him. my heart breaks for him because the expectation is for him to just understand but the reality is that he cannot. he doesn't understand that when kids are screaming that they are not attacking him. he doesn't understand that it is okay for the day to go differently than expected. the challenge i face is nothing compared to some of the challenges he has faced. i sometimes think that the days of me having to explain to other people why he reacts the way he does are over. just when that happens i find myself trying to calm a child down by pulling his shirt off while he is screaming "YOU HAVE GOT TO GET ME OUT OF HERE!". i wonder how true that is for him on so many days. i know that he has so many happy days but i also know that he has many moments that he just wants to escape. many people doubt the reality of sensory processing disorder but this blog has helped me trace the signs that calvary has dealt with this disorder from infancy. now, as he faces more testing, i optimistically look at the history i have recorded here to help provide insight into this enigmatic little brain. i would be lying if i said that this is all fun. but in that same breath i know that i am blessed. every night i kiss that sweet forehead and look at that bright smile and i have a baby boy to love. my frustrations are not ones rooted in a physical illness. beyond these truths i am blessed because of the resources available. calvary is a different boy then he was even a year ago. he has learned so much through the resources offered through child and family services. it has taken me a long time to write this post because i have not known how to give it all justice. on one hand he is my most difficult child. i feel like an ambassador and i don't ever know whether my environment will be hostile or amicable. on the other hand he is my easiest child. he thrives in quiet, organized moments. rules are his friends. simplicity is his greatest treasure. this is a year of great anticipation. i feel like i have learned so much about my boy this year and i know that the layers are only beginning to give way. i look forward to meeting him where he is, appreciating him for who he is, and teaching him to thrive.