Proverbs 22:6

"Train a child up in the way he should go, Even when he is old he will not depart from it."

That's what we intend to do.

God laid it on my heart to homeschool my children.

I said yes.

Logan Update

My precious Logan is getting big so fast. He amazes me everyday with his tender heart, and warm spirit. He's sooooo loving and giving that it just melts me. He's going to be such a great husband and father.

Logan has really blossomed in TPK (Therapeutic Pre Kindergaten). His teachers and therapists dote on him, and say he's on target to graduate in time for kindergarten. He's already mastered one goal... maybe more! We'll find out how he did last semester soon. He's reading site words, writing all his letters and even doing math. I'm so proud of him!

I still get stuck in the "why me"s from time to time, but I remember what an incredible journey, and blessing this has been. Don't get me wrong, I still get waves of brokeness from time to time- but they've gotten few and far between. I'm really working hard on enjoying the moment, because life is short, and they're only little once... and it's for such a short time.

We just signed Logan up for piano lessons (his first lesson is tomorrow!) and he's really excited about it! He loves music so much, and my hubby has been working with him now and then, but we decided it's time for him to have a professional teacher. I'm excited, but a little nervous. Logan does have OCD, so if something is not "just right" aka exactly what he's expecting, then he could have an episode- but I'm praying everything will be smooth sailing and he enjoys learning about music. My hubby and I both love music- my DJ is so talented, if you could just hear the music he composes he'd amaze you too- so I pray that Logan takes to it.

I also have some exciting news to share... but that deserves it's own post.

Don't Blink

Because your sweet baby boy will soon turn FIVE!

Happy (belated) FIFTH Birthday Logan

10/14/05

Little Daddy

Logan is the best "little Daddy" to his sister. I'm constantly hearing things like "please don't put that in your mouth;" and "you're sooooo pretty Lily."

He has a tender touch, and gentle heart. He tells me that Lily is his best friend- and he's ALWAYS looking out for her.

He'll play, "read", and even sing to her. She's very blessed to have him :)


And we're blessed to have them both.

House Rulls

This year, I've really been working on our "Family Rules". I grew up in a loving home, and we had set boundaries- and that's something I want for my kids too!

Some (basic) rules we have are:

1. Sit together for dinner as often as possible.
2. Respect each other (no yelling, back talking, don't be demanding)
3. Use a kind loving tone, even when disciplining (I admit, this isn't always easy... but I'm working on it)
4. ABSOLUTELY no hitting. Hands are for hugging!
5. Help clean up our messes.


Well, tonight I learned a tough lesson on follow through. My husband and I have laid out some consequences for breaking the rules.... and tonight Logan hit his sister. The consequence for hitting in our house is: no TV, no treats, go to bed 30 minutes early.

After he hit her, I sat him down, and got eye to eye with him. I lowered my voice and spoke in very clear three to five word sentences (this tecnique is called "low and slow"; it's very useful for children with sensory issues). "Logan, (pause) we don't hit. (pause) Hands are for hugging. (pause) When we hit (pause) then there is a consequence. (pause)" I repeated that phrase about three times. He was very upset and I hugged him and told him that he needed to cool off in his room for 4 minutes.

I SO badly wanted to run in there and tell him "no big deal blah blah blah" and then give him cookies and pretend nothing happened- but that wouldn't be very responsible of me {poo}.

Luckily for me, this incident happened around 6.30pm ANYWAY, so I didn't have too much back lash- I just started my bedtime routine right then! But when I laid him down at 7.30, and he begged me to let him watch TV, and he told me how sorry he was, and how he wanted to talk to sister and tell her he was wrong- I REALLY wanted to give in... but I didn't. I lovingly told him "that phrase" hugged him and told him that I love him very much.


And now??

He's asleep. And it's not even 8 yet... I guess there is something to be said about following through. Who knew?

He's not just anyone, he's my son

Yesterday Logan came home with his first report card. I found it at the bottom of his bag, tucked neatly in a white envelope. I opened it- not know what it was.

Once I unfolded it, and figured out what it was my heart sank. I saw several Ns (to be expected) and felt a deep sadness*... but I wasn't surprised.

*It's one thing to know your son has a "delay" or isn't typical, and it's another thing to see it in black and white on a very official looking state approved report card.

The report listed the goals for this year (there were 6) and then gave a grade next to each one. M- mastered, S- satisfactory, and N- needs improvement. He got 2 Ns and 4 Ss.

Annual Goal that received an N:

• Circle time- participate for 15 minutes and answer simple questions.
  
• Demonstrate fine motor skills and coordination needed for writing.

There was also an entire page of accomplishments and tribulations. A couple things that stood out: "Logan is learning to do things more independently like open his own milk carton and food wrappers." and "Logan uses the bathroom independently with no accidents!".

When I read that I thought (insert sarcastic tone here) "great".

As I was driving today I prayed a prayer I've prayed many many many times. It went something like:

"I need to You to heal him. / Please Lord God give me the strength to help him grow into a strong man of God. / Free him of his OCD, Lord. / Help him not to be scared Father. Let him know You're there."

And Mark Schultz's song "He's my Son" came on the radio.

That's it! That's my song!

Now, I know that song is a tragic song about a terminally ill child- but I really felt like it described my prayer. He doesn't have a terminal disease (Thank You Thank You Thank You Jesus for that), yet he's a prisoner in his own mind. He's constantly telling me he has a stomach ache (worry) or he's scared (panic).

We're working on it Logan. I'm doing my best, I hope it's enough.

I'm down on my knees again tonight
I'm hoping this prayer will turn out right
See there is a boy that needs Your help
I've done all that I can do myself
His mother is tired
I'm sure You can understand
Each night as he sleeps
She goes in to hold his hand
And she tries not to cry
As the tears fill her eyes

CHORUS:
Can You hear me?
Am I getting through tonight?
Can You see him?
Can You make him feel all right?
If You can hear me
Let me take his place somehow
See, he's not just anyone
He's my son

Sometimes late at night I watch him sleep
I dream of the boy he'd like to be
I try to be strong and see him through
But God who he needs right now is You
Let him grow old
Live life without this fear
What would I be
Living without him here
He's so tired and he's scared
Let him know that You're there

CHORUS

Can You hear me?
Can You see him?
Please don't leave him
He's my son

Out of the Mouths of Babes (or Four Year Old) Updated Version

**UPDATE** Now that I have a little more time, I'm going to explain (and add to) some of Logan's... comments from this post.

Lily's sucking Mommy's penis- One day I was wearing a shirt that was "bumpy", and because Logan has a sensory issue he kept petting me. All. Day. Long. He was rubbing and rubbing and rubbing my boob! So, I said (over and over and over) "Logan, please stop touching Mommy." "Logan, please don't touch Mommy." So, finally, I said (in a firm loving manner) "Logan, that's private, please stop touching me."

A couple hours later he saw me nursing and said "Lily's sucking Mommy's penis" because I always tell him "Your penis is private, it's only for you" (partially cause I'm petrified of pedophiles."

MMMM CORN, THAT'S MY FAVORITE!

Me: Are you a boy or a girl? Logan: BOY! Me: Why? (he couldn't answer) Because you have a penis. Logan: Does Daddy have a penis? Me: Yes, he's a boy. Logan: Does Lily have a penis? Me: No, honey she's a girl. Logan: That's right, Lily has a butt.

Grammie, you have a diaper on!- My Mother-in-Law has back issues, and was wearing a back brace! Priceless :)

I can't want to!

I can't want it!

(Holding a tampon) Is this for your butt?

Don't stick the toilet paper inside me!

Out of the Mouths of Babes (or Four Year Old)

Okay, I don't have much time, so I will write an updated post with the explanations to (some of) these.

As most of you know, my son is (what I feel is) speech delayed (No need to beat a dead horse, I just still think it's utterly rediculous that he "doesn't fail enough" to get official speech therapy). Anyway, because he's made MAJOR advancements the past 8 weeks, he's been talking a whole lot more.

Here are some of the things he's said that have made me (and my husband) laugh at loud:

Lily's sucking Mommy's penis.

MMMM CORN, THAT'S MY FAVORITE!

Me: Are you a boy or a girl? Logan: BOY! Me: Why? (he couldn't answer) Because you have a penis. Logan: Does Daddy have a penis? Me: Yes, he's a boy. Logan: Does Lily have a penis? Me: No, honey she's a girl. Logan: That's right, Lily has a butt.

Grammie, you have a diaper on!

I can't want to!

I can't want it!


I have many more, but I don't want my chicken to burn. I'll update soon!

The World

may need may need ear plugs.


They may see him has a nuisance.


But I see him as gift.


The best gift.


Thank you Logan- for just being you.

Better Late then Never

Forgiveness is hard. Especially when you have to forgive yourself.

As hard as this is to admit, when I look back at pictures of my son's first years, I feel a deep pain. I look at pictures of a perfect baby boy- and an ignorant mother. A mother that glosses over warning signs of a son that has special needs. I see a beautiful innocent boy that's crying for help- and a mother that's caught up in "life" to see it.

Here are some examples of some pictures that are painful view.

This is the ghost of Christmas past:

Christmas 2006 (Logan is 15 months)

Christmas 2007 (Logan is just over 2)


Christmas 2008

Notice every picture he has a phone. Why didn't I see it? Where was I? Why didn't I see it?

Ouch. I need to forgive myself.

At least I can see the fixation now. Better late then never.

Christmas Cards- the Outtakes.

We went to the local mall to take pictures for our Christmas cards.


They went... as expected.

Lily tried to steel Logan's candy cane.

We* couldn't get them both to look at the camera

*my Mom and I

They both found interesting "things" on the ground.

But they're still stinkin' cute.

If I do say so myself.

Out of 146 photos-

We only got one good one.

But we got some relief

at dinner.

and the Second One gets that shaft.

Lily is such an awesome baby- for the most part. She has her moments (and her days) that make me wonder "we planned this one, right?".

But all-in-all she's a great young lady, and the perfect second child. She rolls with the punches (sometimes literally) and goes with the flow. But while I was feeding her a nutritious breakfast of graham crackers and organic puffs, I got to thinking...

With my first I did everything "by the book":

• He ate only jarred foods (which, at the time, I thought was best)
• He was on a very strict sleeping and eating schedule
• His bed sheets were changed EVERYDAY (a little OCD on my part I know)
• He played with the safest, most up to date toys (although he would have been happy with a twig- or a phone... go figure)
• He was changed often, always had his face wiped, and his clothes never had a stain or mark on them. If they did, his clothes were promptly changed, and the stain treated.
• He was only exposed to Baby Einstein on DVD

Not to mention I:

• Cleaned the whole house- top to bottom everyday
• Did laundry everyday
• Exposed Logan to friends, play dates, and "outings" often
• Wiped down his toys with Clorox wipes, and made sure if his cup hit the floor it would be properly washed (I always had a back up)
• Wiped the cart, restaurant high chairs, and tables. If his hand so much as grazed any of those things- it was wiped too
• My diaper bag was sufficiently packed with everything I might need- and I had a back up in my car

With my second child, most of that junk went out the window. I don't have a rigid schedule, my house is nowhere near that clean- seriously- her sheets get changed once every week (or two- hanging my head in shame), I rarely bring a diaper bag let alone a well stocked one, I forget to bring food with me so we resort to pancakes (something I NEVER would have given Logan before his first birthday), she's never ridden in a grocery cart, I always "wear" her, I can't remember the last time I wiped her toys, she's never had an official "play date", and she watches Nick Jr.

Please don't call CPS on me- I'll put a Baby Einstein on today.

Logan's One Month Evaluation

**I couldn't get pictures to upload- check back for photos**

On Friday we had Logan's one month Therapeutic Pre School Evaluation.

Every month the psychiatrist makes a home visit to discuss Logan's progress. This was our first evaluation- and I was eager to hear how he's been doing in school.

She said he's been doing really well riding the bus, following directions, and not being anxious. I was pleasantly surprised! She said he hasn't demonstrated anxiety characteristics in a while- and I was thrilled!!

She also mentioned that she and him have a special bond, and he lights up when he sees her. She said she loved working with him, and looks forward to watching him grow.


She said the areas he needs to work on are:

• Touching/throwing sand. This is one of his (many) sensory issues. He likes to feel the sand running through his fingers. She said he gets so fixated that they (his teachers) have to make it "off limits" some days.
• Touching other people. Logan will "pet" other people to feel their clothes, or body. The other kids don't like it- so he needs to work on keeping his hands to himsef.
• Pooping on the potty.
  
• Talking about the phone.
• Doing "The Claw" (he claws his hand at inappropriate times)
  

She gave me some more social stories* to read to him every night on:

• Eating too fast (I know, I was shocked too!)
• Chewing with your mouth closed
  
• Not interrupting
  
• Completing a request
• Getting the attention of others
• Hearing "No"
• Making a request
• Using a napkin (he uses his shirt-hehehehe)
• Showing affection
• Shutting the bathroom door

*A social story is a short story that gives children simple explanations to everyday tasks. Example: Little boys go to school./Little boys ride on the bus to school./Little boys stay seated on the bus./Little boys get off the bus./Little boys line up for class./Little boys go to school./Logan's going to school.

I know this seems trivial, but she used the term "next year". I guess he won't be graduating to "regular" preschool next year. Oh well, maybe kindergarten.

The Giving Tree

**Warning: This post contains raw, real emotions. I'd like to preface this with how much I love being a Mom. How I dreamed of having a child, and how I am thankful to God everyday for blessing me with two beautiful children, perfect in His image. I know many people struggle with infertility, or loss of a child and make no mistake, I pray for those people out there everyday. I know how blessed I am to have my kids on this side of eternity- and I'm thankful.

That said- Let the rant ensue.

There are days where I feel sorry for myself, and today is one of those days.

I try very hard to have a cheery, light hearted, optimistic spirit- most of the time. But today, I just want to complain.

Everyday I give and give and give and give and give, and explain, and give, and explain, and give and give. And then when the house is finally quiet, and the last potty break is over, and the last cup of water has been drank- I give some more.

Don't get me wrong, I love being a Mom, but on days like this I find myself asking: why me?

Why is it I can't walk into a store without talking about a phone. I would love to go to a store and not talk about a freaking phone. On that note, I would love to go ONE DAY without "pretending" to talk on the phone. You know what- I WOULD LOVE TO NOT SEE A PHONE FOR ONE DAY. That, friends, would be a good day.

I would love not to hear an absolutley, horrific, ear piercing screeching whale come out of my son's mouth. I would love to not hear it at bed time.

What did I do to deserve this? Why do I have to constantly explain explain explain why we can or can't do something. I would love to go one day with out having to worry about my son having a panic attack.

I would love to go one day without thinking about, worrying about, or talking about sensory issues. I would love not to worry about the volume of something, or the feeling (the physical feeling) of something. That would be AWESOME.

I would love not to worry about my son's future issues. Wondering what his OCD fixation will be when he's 15. It probubly won't be phones- so what? What will it be?

I would love to not think about poop. I would love for Logan to GO POOP.

I would love if my daughter was no longer teething. I would love for all those little boogers to pop right through, with no pain-therefore no crying.

I never asked for this. As a child, I never sat back and thought "Oh, I can't wait to grow up, get married, and have a baby boy with special needs."

I absolutely, undoubtedly love my son, but sometimes I just wish he was..."typical".

I would love to have a husband that worked normal hours, at a job he loved so I didn't have to put the kids to bed- all-by-my-self 5 nights a week.

I would have loved him to not go to that meeting last night- and I hope he doesn't go tonight.

I would love to shower, shave and go to the bathroom without an interruption.

And finally I would love a vacation- scratch that- I would love a night off.

Rant. Over.

Filters

Sometimes I believe the Holy Spirit works through you when you least expected it.

Today, while I was visiting a new superstore (which was awesome minus this incident) Logan got confused and began to have one of his "mini meltdowns"- which includes screaming.

~For those of you who know my son, you know his screaming is very loud, very high pitched, and honestly very uncomfortable.

I held his hand and walked down the main grocery isle to grab the last thing I needed for dinner so we could check out and head home. It was as if a spot light was on me. People were coming out of the isles to see what was going on. No exaggeration, there were at least 40 people turned and looked at me and my sweet boy. Now, that being said, it was 30-45 seconds of excruciatingly loud uncomfortable screaming (which I'm used to) so I can understand why people were looking. But what they don't understand was this was not a "typical" child "I want that toy I can't have" tantrum. This was a little boy having an anxiety attack because he didn't understand something. I can't imagine how scary it must feel for him to feel trapped in his own world of fear and worry.

Anyway, while I was quickly grabing the thing I needed an old crotchy lady leaned over a very sternly said "Young man, you need to mind your manners while your...".

Before I could even think of what to say I threw him behind me (as if to physically protect him from the verbal daggers she was throwing at him) and said "Listen, lady, he has special needs."

And she looked at me with a stone cold look as I walked briskly away.

By the time I got back to the produce section, Logan had calmed down, but I was in tears. I thought of all the things I "should have said". I think the Holy Spirit was my filter at that moment.

So, for those of you who were at that superstore on this day and this time, I'm sorry. And for those of you who may encounter a screaming child in a superstore, before giving dirty looks or even saying a nasty comment* please think twice.

*I know most people would never do that, but everyone has weak moments-I'm sure back in my day I would have given "the look". There were some (few, but some) friendly faces that looked at me with sadness-as if they were saying "I've been there".

All Through the Town

The wheels on the bus go...

All through the town.

Or at least it feels that way!

Logan's first official day of school was 10/15, and because the bus wasn't scheduled in our area yet, I drove him and picked him up until the school district called me with the bus details.

Well, Wednesday was his first ride on the bus, and it went...well, as expected.

We were waiting in our front yard (yes we have a front door pick up-VERY rare, but very gooooood) playing, laughing, and talking. He was in high spirits, and was mildly excited to go to school. He told me about his friends, and teachers...

And then we heard it. Screeching around the corner came the biggest, baddest, scariest monster. It reached out it's arm and grabbed my son. As he was screaming "NO MOMMY NO MOMMY NO MOMMY" over and over and over again, this monster laughed and said "we're not coming back. Kiss him good bye FOR-EV-ER. Wah-ha-ha-ha-ha."

Okay, it didn't really go like that.

What really happened when that monster, aka the bus, came around the corner, Logan was excited. He loves all things with 4 or more wheels, and he's always been intrigued by buses. The bus stopped, and he climbed on in!

The bus driver introduced herself to me, and informed me that they were a mother/daughter team (the TPK bus has an aide on it). You could see the love that radiated from their faces. I felt as if Logan was climbing onto a bus with his Grandmother. They're both grandma's and have been driving buses for 22 years (that's almost as old as me!), so I felt very comfortable.

However, once Logan realized I wasn't going to be riding the bus with him, he got VERY upset. I reached out his hand, and looked at me with this disgusted look of betrayal... as if I had hurt his brand new puppy.

I left him, and ran in the house.

I. Felt. Terrible.

That was worse then his first day of school. I just kept repeating to myself (out loud, in a very soft voice) "it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts". and I started to tear up (not cry...tear up).

I climbed in the shower, as if to wash away some of the pain I was feeling. I wanted it off of me. I wanted the physical pain off me and down the drain.

I took a deep breath, and tried to forget about the time.

But I couldn't.

I really couldn't.

I thought about Logan in school, eating lunch, playing outside, napping. Wondering what he was doing each minute of the day.

Then, at 3 I sat outside waiting for him to come home.

As each minute passed, I more and more worried. "Was he okay, is the bus driver having to deal with a melt down, did he nap, did he eat, how did he do getting back on the bus..."

As the clock hit 3.40 I began to panic. "Maybe she got lost. If they're not here in 4 minutes, I'm calling the school."

And there it was. 3.43pm. The big yellow monster came screeching around the cornor to drop off my little monster.

And he did great.

The driver said he was an angel! Then asked me why he was being bused all the way to (xyz) school. I told her because of his developmental delays. And she said, "He doesn't sound delayed to me."

And my heart skipped a beat. He doesn't sound delayed to her... praise the Lord in Heaven.

Father, I know you hear my prayers, and I know You know my son. Watch him, Lord, when I can't. Hold him, Lord, when I can't.

I won't let you fall, Logan. I won't let you fall.

It tastes like sausage

He's already making progress, and it's only been ONE. WEEK.

I am truly amazed at the strength of my son. He started school- full time- and he's riding the bus (I'll blog about that later). What an awesome little man I have :)

He came home today, and sat down for dinner ( I know 4pm is early for dinner, but he's starving when he comes home). I made fancy sloppy joes (no bread), with rice and peas and salad. He also ate the left over rice noodles from the night before-I told you he's starving when he comes home.

So as always, I make him wash his hands before dinner (especailly when he's just come off the bus), but he wasn't having walking all-the-way (6 feet) to the bathroom. So, I just gave him some hand sanintizer I keep in the kitchen. As he's "washing", he starts singing a song about washing hands, and "be sure to wash the tops." UN-BE-LIEVEABLE!

Then, while he was eating he said "Mmmmm. This tastes like sauce-age." (It took me a couple seconds to figure out what he was saying, cause I wasn't sure if my ears were failing me or not-my son dosen't know the word sausage).

I said, "It tastes like_what?"

"SAUCE-AGE"

I was like, okay then.

wait, there's more.

Then, he walks over to the white board, picks up a dry erase marker and says "down, across" HE WROTE THE LETTER L. The letter L. I've been working on that for WEEKS, and he's in school 4 days and now he can write it! But that's not all. He can write L, AND O.

Then, he picked up a picture he colored, brought it over to me (as I'm writing this blog) and says "Look Mommy, I colored this with a crayon. A purple crayon."

I-AM-SHOCKED.

And last, but certainly not least, he hands me a piece of lettuce (a piece he rejected) and put it in my mouth, and said "swallow it, swallow it, swallow it" in a high pitched teaching voice. And when he saw that I did in fact swallow it, he cheered "yay, good swallowing Mommy".

I am a good swallower! And, by the way my pants fit, I think I've been swallowing pretty good for quite some time now.

I need to go now, cause he's writing his letters, and I need to cheer him on!

"Down. Across." "Down. Across." "Down. Across." "Down. Across."

Saved by the Bell

Logan had his first day of school last week! On Thursday, October 15, we made a leap of faith and dropped off our big boy at his first day of TPK- Therapeutic Pre Kindergarten.

Our morning started great. Logan woke up in high spirits, and was excited to "leave the house"... or so he thought.

When we left our house, I started to tear up. I thought about all those days I wasted complaining and not soaking him up. All the times I "wanted a minute alone" or was frustrated over his rituals. All that time. Gone. Like the blink of an eye. Gone.

I realized that today was the first day of his academic career, and that my sweet baby boy that I held in my arms just 4 short years ago, was growing up.

That was the longest drive of my life. The school is about 35 minutes from my house, so as I drove I thought a lot. I took a deep breath and remembered how I breathed him in on October 14 at 5.01 pm. The way he gazed at me with those goopy eyes, and how it felt to hold a life in my arms. When he was born, I was very ill, and can disticntly recall that day. When Dr. G showed me my little boy, and he started SCREAMING I thought to myself "I should be crying now". And when then they placed him on my chest (very breifly- only for a picture... that's how sick I was) I thought "He's going to fall, please, take him, HE'S GOING TO FALL". Looking at the pictures now, you can clearly see that the nurse was holding him and had placed him on my chest for a picture.

As we pull into the school, my heart sinks deep into my chest and I can feel my blood pulsating through my veins. I've been looking so forward to this day, and now it's here. All I wanted was one. more. day. But it was too late.

We parked the car, made a call (to the Grandmothers-for blessings of course) and walked to the teacher.

He said "Mommy, I'm very sick. We can't go to school."

I replied, "You're going to be great Logan. I love you, and I'll see you soon."

I gave him a kiss. And left. Like that day, four years ago, I thought "I should be crying now". But I didn't. I was sad, yes. But his time had come, and I was happy.

When I returned the teacher said he did GREAT! I was so happy that the day was over, and he was safe.

One day down. Fourteen years to go.

I won't let you fall, Logan. I won't let you fall.

Happy Birthday Logan

Happy Birthday my sweet boy! Your short life has taught me so much, you're my inspiration.

I Love You more than you'll ever know.

Put a Band-Aid On It

As a parent of a with child with special needs, I find myself saying:

 "Can't I just put a band-aid on it?"

"Why can't I just fix this?"

"Am I making the right choice in regard to his diet?"

"What does the world think of me?"

I can sit and wallow in my self pity, and ask "why me?" all day long- but one thing remains:

Logan was created by the One True God, in His image, and place perfectly with me. There are many times I think about all the signs I missed. Like, his delayed speech, inappropriate use of pronouns, and major sensory issues. I even thought I was "lucky" to have a baby that didn't put anything in his mouth. I look back at that nieve mom and want to yell "HE'S GOT SENSORY ISSUES, YOU CRAZY LADY!". But, unfortunately you can't turn back time, and that fact of the matter is I didn't know any better. 

I do seek forgiveness, and ask God to please give me wisdom and understanding with my kids. I believe God has a plan for him, and  is using my sweet boy to make me grow up.

I hope one day Logan will forgive me. I pray:

• That he will look past my ignorence, and know that I did everything I could to heal him. 
• That I used every fiber of my being to help him get better. 
• He doesn't rememeber this pain. 
• That he will become a "typical" child. 
• That he will grow out of it.

Right now, I am still looking for the right approach for his diet. 

For the past year, I've been milling my own wheat to make bread and other baked goodies. Wheat offers so many nutrients, but because of how it's processed for commercial use it's useless. When processed, it's milled, bleached, fortified (cause all the nutrience are gone- so they add them back), and then made into bread (or cupcakes, cookies, etc). All the good stuff is oxidized and the food is basically dead. 

Our family eat mostly whole foods, and have been steering clear of prepackaged food for about 2 years. I'd say we were (before this journey) about 60% there. 

SO NOW, going through what I've been going through with Logan, I'm forced to ask myself- "What's worse, the prepackaged gluten free cake mix, OR the freshly milled live flour?"

When I first started this journey, I wasn't sure where to start, and I was willing to try anything. I found myself scrambling for answers, reading anything and everything I could get my hands on. I find myself still searching, and I pray every night for guidance. I just want to help my son. That's what this is all about-helping Logan cope with everyday life.

It's my belief that our bodies benefit from live food: wheat, fruit, veggies, meats, etc. So, I'm now going back live eating. He'll be receiving gluten- only from my wheat- for three weeks. If he starts to regress, I'll put him back on the GFCF diet. 

My next steps are:

1. Journal his behavior and diet
   
2. Make an appointment to see his pediatrician to discuss everything
3. See and allergist
4. See a behavioral psychiatrist

God is with me, and I know we'll get through this.