My husband and I have had many conversations over the years concerning, “why”. Why did God give people a “perfect” child when they don’t even care about the kid? Why did God give those (insert any adjective) really good kids and they don’t appreciate them?

I usually answer, because if God gave “them” Thomas they would not have been able to take care of him, and what would’ve happened to him?” I didn’t say that to make myself feel better. I really believe it to be true. I’m not saying that we were “chosen” as Thomas’ parents. I don’t know if I believe that. I do believe that for whatever reason we get the kids we get as part of God’s will. His ways are higher than ours. It’s the parents’ decision whether they will acknowledge and address the differences of their child. Many people bury their head in the sand, refuse the child to be “labeled” and it’s a terrible outcome for everyone.

When more of Thomas’ needs became apparent, I made solid, concrete decisions of how I was going to raise him. No burying my head, no ignoring behaviors/delays and be a strong advocate. We made decisions and choices with the knowledge and instruction we learned and were told. The internet was not something we had at our fingertips in those days.

When it came to raising our girls thing was so very different. Everyone met their milestones as infants. Especially Alyssa. It was as if she read a growth and development textbook! Time to roll over? Check! Sit up? Check! She was a pleasure. Tantrums here and there, but nothing disastrous. Lelly…Walked at 11 months, jumped out of her crib shortly after. I had no idea how to contain her. Started running soon after walking, then began speeding down the street on the red flyer tricycle. Man could those legs go! Did I mention Lelly was a talker in school? So freaking funny! She would talk to a nearby student who would not talk back; unsure if he even spoke English!

Last but not least; Sam! Such a super pleasant baby. She was happy and Alyssa and Thomas loved her right away. Lelly…took a bit more time. There’s 5 years between Sam and Lelly so it does makes sense. Sam was a late talked and when she received speech therapy through early intervention, the therapist said she was the 4th child and didn’t *have* to talk. Everyone got her what she wanted. Made sense and She caught up pretty quick.

My point of this post; I was thinking of how much I tried to do right by Thomas with little to no “professional” help or advice. District 75 was never once mentioned as an option even though I repeatedly requested a vocational setting, and his IQ and academic performance met those standards. I had to request D75 myself when he was 11/12, after I was told that D75 even existed.

Tommy and I also had the task of doing right raising our girls. When Thomas was in residential school we made the difficult decision to not visit him every weekend. It was not fair for Alyssa, Lelly and Sam’s childhood memories to be full of memories visiting Thomas an hour plus away from home *every* Saturday or Sunday. We balanced life as fair as we could.

I have to say it was much less stressful spending time with Alyssa and Lelly (before Samantha) arrived and being present for school events and trips, etc when Thomas was in residential school. Neurotypical tantrums the girls displayed had nothing on a Thomas tantrum. During Thomas’ time at residential school we felt we could take the kids to Hershey Park for a few days. It was so, so great. Thomas was amazing, he was happy and fun. I loved that trip.

Every now and then I think back to nursing school. How difficult it was, the exams we studied for in study groups at each other’s houses. I was one of the three youngest students in my graduating class. The majority of students I took classes with were men and women in their 30’s, raising a family and now was the time to pursue their dream of becoming a nurse. It was a very supportive and non judgmental group of friends. Of course that made the whole experience much more tolerable.

We all had to take Anatomy and Physiology 1 and 2 classes before we began nursing clasPses. The professor who taught the class when I was a student was an extreme intelligent older woman with an unmistakable British accent. Very no nonsense, in other words, took no shit. I liked her but kept my distance lol.

We were learning about the brain. There are 3 membrane layers that cover the brain under the skull. I’ll never forget the first membrane is called called the “dura mater”. It is Latin for “Tough Mother”. The professor emphasized the protection the brain has enclosed in the skull made of bone; as well as the 3 membranes beginning with the Dura Mater.

This goes through my mind as I have been talking about raising Thomas. The difficult decisions Tommy and I made concerning medications, residential schools, do nothing so called professional physicians, etc… I’ve come to the conclusion that I am a Dura Mater or as my professor translated One Tough Mother.

I know quite a few mothers who could proudly wear that title of Dura Mater. Some tough mothers of typical children and many mothers of special needs children. I’m fortunate to be surrounded by tough mothers.

Things were a bit different this summer. I usually work 6 week summer session at my school. Last summer was brutal to be truthful. It was Meg and I which is our normal these days. But, I don’t know the whole vibe was not a good one. I couldn’t wait for the 6 weeks to be up.

This summer I applied to work half the summer program. The first half. It was approved. My last day for the school year was July 23. Go me. Meg is out on leave, not returning until September. The coverage nurse they sent for Meg was great. Very nice, a great worker. She would ask what needed to be done if I got caught up in a work situation and did what I asked her without batting an eye. Total team player.

On Augist 2nd, Tommy, Sam and I took off to Cape Cod to meet up with Alyssa and her husband Sam. The week has been really nice. I would have loved for Lelly to join us but she was visiting Spain and Croatia the week before. Go my Lelly!

I’m riding shotgun while Tommy drives home. We rented an airbnb with our daughter Alyssa, our son in law Sam and our Sam. Our vacation location: Cape Cod Massachusetts. This is the earliest in the summer months that I’ve gone away on vacation in 8 years.

Since I’ve been working as a school nurse for the DOE I’ve worked every 6 week summer session. Most years the weeks passed rather quick and the atmosphere IMO was pretty pleasant. Of course we all counted down the days until the end of the 6 weeks, all in fun. Last summer however was brutal. I have no idea what happened. I was overwhelmed with requests for trip nurses to attend class field trips. I could not keep up with paper work *and* perform the job I was there to do. So stressful. For the first time in 7 years I totally regretted working summer.

When the summer schedule came out I decided to apply to work half the summer session. Meg is out on leave and the break between summer session ending and the new school year beginning is shorter than in the past. I was approved to work the first 3 weeks of summer until July 23. No complaints, none from me.

So…the first week of August instead of working I spent with my family. Tommy making me laugh like only he can and loving being with Alyssa, Sam and Sam. I have to admit at first I was unsure. I mean the house was lovely, plenty of room for everyone. The weather however was on the cool side even for up there. This my summer! No cool weather, no. We went to the beach Monday; very nice. Tuesday and Wednesday cloudy and lower 70’s. Okay we explored and visited a few of the many towns in Cape Cod. Including Provincetown. One day there was good enough for me.

Then: the skies cleared!! Beautiful cloudless, blue skies, 74 lovely degrees. We all hit the beach Thursday for a few hours. Friday morning comes and I declare that I am going to the beach, that’s what I am doing. Everyone else, you’re welcome to come with or make other plans it’s totally fine. Tommy was indecisive at first. While I was sitting in my car getting the directions on my GPS, my wonderful husband taps the window, “I’m coming with you.” Yayyyy!

We had a great, peaceful, relaxing day. I people watched and eavesdropped as I always do. We went for quite a few walks up and down the strip of beach. The water was cold, not freezing but way too cold for me to swim. Plus there were many seals in the water. We were told that sharks follow seals and that there were many shark attacks up there. No thanks. I’ll stick to up to the knees only.