Our "Before"

When you look at this picture you probably see a boy who loves to swim, is happy, and cooling off a summer's day with a great time in the pool. You would be right, but there's more to this picture than you would ever guess.

This picture took 12 years to get.

Shaun and I have endured many scratches and the pulling of our hair and skin to get this shot.

No, I am not that crazy of a scrapbooking mom.

But I am a mom who knows that I, more often than I would like to, have to literally pull Anthony through an experience I know he would love once there. But is far too afraid to try.

It wasn't always this way.

THIS is a boy LOVING the water!

For many, many years we couldn't get him into a pool, the lake, or even on a boat. Shaun and I even had code words and game plans for the mere attempt of getting him back into these situations. That used to be the very things he loved. Maybe because he outgrew the bucket, maybe because he watched Nemo one too many times,

or maybe it was the way his brain grew.

Starting next week, we are beginning a 12 week journey that could change everything.

About a year ago we came across information about the Brain Balance Center. I am not sure who gave it to me or if I discovered it on my own. I don't do as much research as I used to, but I never really turn off the "what could help him reach his potential" switch that moms like me have.

Selfishly as well, I saw this as a way to help our whole family.

We went to a speaker that talked about all the things that children operating with one side of the brain stronger than the other have to deal with. And we saw a detailed picture of our son. When we left the event, we left feeling like some of our "issues" could be changed. We didn't have to accept some of what we were dealing with. The things that became our "normal". And most of it had nothing to do with him having Down syndrome. We left with hope.

It was never a matter of "if" we were going to do it, just when and, good gracious - HOW? It's not considered "medical", so insurance wasn't going to pick up the tab. And therapy isn't cheap!

Through a series of events that could only be God parting the Red Sea for us, we are starting this adventure NEXT WEEK!

I decided to share our story here.

One - I'm sure what I have to say will not fit in a Facebook status.

Two - I can update a lot of people at once

and three - most importantly - I don't want to forget where we are right now. I want to see the results. Less chance of selective memory here.

I don't want to forget what our "normal" is, because I want it to change. There is a guarantee of some kind of change - but no guaranteed measure of how successful.

The therapy consists of sensory and cognitive therapy. These are designed to strengthen the "weaker" side of his brain. To "even out" the sensory input and help him to process things better.

So... maybe...

-we won't have to avoid movie theaters

- or stop and wait all the time for the tongues in his shoes to be "just right"

- or "fix" the numbers on his Vikings jersey to be perfectly placed on his shoulders (and then have to change the shirt anyway)

- we don't have to wait until he is finished to move on to the next thing. (Although we did just get through a little and can now use a bookmark at times).

- we could all just get in the car, and not have to rearrange where people are sitting so that he will buckle up and move on

-we could have less meltdowns over whose turn it is, what's for dinner, who gets to play with whose toys, the sharpness of a pencil, what movie we watch, what park we go to, and so many others that happen so randomly and out of the blue that we are often left so lost as what to do

I've felt like the worst kind of mom in the way that we do more to avoid him falling apart than teaching him how to process events. But I feel some hope that maybe because of this growth problem, it may not have mattered what I did. He simply can not process things the same as the rest of us.

I have already learned some basic understanding of this concept and SO much can be explained by it. My favorite was when, after all the evaluation results were complete, this doctor explained SOOO much of Anthony from just reading the results - and he had never even met Anthony. It was such an amazing moment to have this guy describe what we "probably" deal with due to the results - and have him hit the nail on the head in so many ways. He's seen it THAT much. And he's seen improvement in all those areas.

Knowledge really is power! And since even that day, I have been given a blessing of patience when we come into things that don't feel so "random" anymore. Like the one day recently when I took the kids to Ikea and Anthony caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror. And that his hair was sticking up a little bit. Unfortunately, because he had his coat on, every time he tried to flatten it down with his hand, he created such static electricity that it just kept getting worse. The girls, (who ALWAYS astound me with their own patience and understanding with their brother) and I just waited for him to take care of it. But as it got worse, he got more and more aggravated and was heading for a shutdown. So, as 20-30 people continued to pass us by, I pulled a 1950's mom move, licked my hand and stuck down that hair. I grossed out both myself and Bella with that one (and now, maybe you), but it worked. And 20 minutes after that first glance in the mirror, we moved on. Made it about 5 feet and then he wanted me to go home and get him a different car to carry.

Have I mentioned that, along with avoidance, I have a master's degree in distraction?

In three months, some of this could look very different.

Or... it could even look the same.

But we would have tried.

And that's just what we do.