Be Like Max ... or AJ

It's been more than a month since AJ's promotion ceremony at the end of school. This post may be a month late, but I'm no less proud of AJ now than I was then. AJ was one of two recipients of his class of about 140 to receive the Be Like Max Award ... or as I like to call it, the good human award.

Max was a student who graduated 8th grade in 2017 (I believe) who made a lasting impression on his classmates, teachers and staff. He always had a smile and a kind word to say to everyone. Apparently they did a Be Like Max Day and had the entire school pretty much decked out in shirts to support and honor Max.

When Max left Carl Traeger Middle School, a Be Like Max award was created to honor 1 to 2 special students each year who embodied the best qualities of Max: kindness, caring and empathy. The recipients are chosen by the entire staff, and they chose AJ.

Look at my good human!

AJ's literacy teacher gave a beautiful speech on why AJ was selected for this award, and I'm so darn proud of this kid. While I gave him a bit of crap about his teacher joking about what his parents do to raise such a helpful kid and said perhaps it was really our acceptance speech, it's all AJ.

No doubt, being Teddy's big brother plays a role in AJ being a kind, caring and empathetic human. He's been helping since Teddy was born, doing more than most kids do to help their siblings and enduring more doctor's appointments, therapy appointments and medical trauma on behalf of his brother than many kids. He's spent 14+ years wishing for his brother to speak. (Seriously, he's asked Santa for that as a child, and it's still a wish in his heart.) He's always been so empathetic, so thoughtful and so wise beyond his years. 

While we want AJ to do his best, reach his full potential and thrive academically and in the activities he chooses, being a good human matters most. At the young age of 14, he's already there. 

So darn proud of this kid and can't wait to see what he continues to do in life. 

Tracing Triangles

When I daydreamed about having children before we were blessed with our boys, I never could have fathomed what our reality would be. It's messy. It's chaotic. It's stressful. It's fun. It's unexpected. It's incredibly blessed. 

I never imagined Teddy and all that he brings to our lives. (It's pretty tough to picture something you never knew existed, at least when you're a concrete thinker like me.) Last week I was working on some school activities with Teddy, writing with dry erase markers on tracing patterns. I did hand-over-hand, guiding his hand along the lines and making fun sounds to keep him engaged. Then I asked him to trace the triangle on his own. I pointed to a corner and said, "Start here." I then pointed to the next corner and said, "Draw to here." We repeated that for the three sides and ended up with this.

The triangle was traced in purple, amid all the pink scribbles that are the norm.

Now, that might not look like anything remarkable to you. In fact, you might struggle to consider that a legitimate tracing of a triangle. In my eyes, though, that was an incredible accomplishment. It was the best tracing I've seen Teddy do with only verbal cues. He focused on the entire task and made something recognizable to me as a triangle. 

As I praised him, I cleaned the sheet to try again. The next time he did even better.

Look at that pretty pink triangle!

I could not believe his triangle. Teddy got hugs and high fives for a fantastic tracing job. I quickly snapped a picture before it was scribbled over or erased. First I text it to Dave. Then I shared it on Facebook. Then I e-mailed his OT and his teacher. Do you get the picture of how proud of him I was? 

The love and support for Teddy came through on Facebook and in replies from the messages I sent. We're so blessed to have so many in our lives rooting for Teddy and celebrating his accomplishments when they occur, regardless of when others achieve those same milestones. I know that tracing a triangle, when you're 7 years old, is not typically worth a second thought. But life without Teddy isn't typical. It's unexpected. It's a journey to discover what he knows, what he can do and, sometimes this is the kicker, what he's willing to do. That little boy can do so much more than we give him credit for because more often than not we can't coax it out of him. 

It's oh so frustrating to be Teddy's mom at times (and that's a feeling I get most days, at least for a few moments). But there's unlimited joy inside him, and that radiates out to others. There's also moments like this that we can see for the gifts they are: a reminder of how far we've come, an accomplishment to celebrate in the moment and hope for what will come. 

Biking Boy

Teddy always enjoys climbing on (and then off ... and then on ... and then off ...) every bike we own, even the ones that are obviously too big for him. He scoots around using his feet and thinks he's pretty cool. He's also been practicing biking occasionally at physical therapy, and we've had plans to adapt a tricycle at home for him for months. (The idea is to enlarge the peddles, and secure his feet into the peddles.) The farthest we've gotten is his grandpa cut out the foot peddles for us a few weeks ago.

And then this happened today at physical therapy:

The best response was Dave's when he saw the video:

"My lil HERO!!!! I'm not sure children are suppose to inspire their parents as much as he does for me!!! Guess I got to get those foot pads on our trike!!"