Navigating Grief in Motherhood: a Story of Lost Twin Girls

I’d like to tell you about two little girls; their names are Zoe and Madeline.  Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of touching, heartwarming stories about them to share with you.  They are from Eastern Europe, three years old and are identical twins.  Madeline, the one who was born first, is blind and last I knew, was still not yet walking or speaking.  Zoe is sighted and, aside from the malnutrition that is common in orphanage life, we were told she was in fairly good health.  This is the extent of what I know about these girls.  When I was given those sparse bits of information, I was delighted.  You see, they were supposed to be my daughters.

This is a story about twin girls and the family that lost them.  There are sadly so many ways to lose a child, and all of them are beyond painful, unfair, and alter your life forever.  I want to tell you about a way of losing a child that is not as well known or talked about or acknowledged.  I do not do this to in any way lessen or minimize the grief of those who have had to bear the weight of losing a child by more common tragedies.  I am simply writing this to share my story, and I hope it can be a comfort to others grieving their lost children.  I think it’s safe to say that, no matter how we experience such a crippling loss, we need to draw strength from each other and not be afraid to truly, rightly and fully grieve.  We need to do this in our own way and in our own time, with no concern about the limits or prescribed ways that our society tells us we are supposed to or allowed to mourn.

Who were these little girls exactly?  They were the girls we were told and assured that we could adopt.  They were the girls of whom we were sent videos and pictures.  They were the sisters of my daughter and son.  They were the twins who were going to make my life as a blind mother even crazier; I imagined them constantly making me guess who was who and having fun at my expense.  They were the girls that were going to share a room with their sister and forge a bond (at least I hoped they would) through that shared space.  Perhaps they would have taken up gymnastics like her or found some other hobby in which they would have delighted.  They were the girls who would probably have driven their brother crazy, while also encouraging him at his piano.  They were the girls who would enrich our family and teach me how to grow as a mother.   They were the girls who would get to experience the joy of meeting grandma and tasting her food for the first time.  They were the girls who were supposed to visit the ocean in Florida, where I and my husband both grew up.  They were the girls that I was going to teach, together with their sister, how to make bread and gumbo.  Now, they are some other family’s girls, and I never saw that coming.

If adoption is talked about at all, it is often from either one of two perspectives.  First, it is viewed from the lens of the birth mother; her decision to place the child for adoption and all the accompanying weight and emotions of that difficult choice.  Second is the more joyous perspective of the adoptive parent, finding purpose and learning from the struggle of becoming a family once the adoption is complete.  Both these perspectives are valid, good and right, and they should be talked about!  In fact, adoption and the need for it is a topic that should be more openly and seriously considered and discussed by our society as a whole.  However, in my family’s case and with other adoptive families as well, there is the perspective of loss.  It is the reality that we had committed ourselves, heart and soul, to two little girls and were determined, whatever the difficulty, to bring them into our family.  Their faces and the thought of them languishing in an overseas orphanage were what motivated us through all the paperwork and tedious tasks that accompany an international adoption.  It is the perspective of being suddenly told, by a foreign government who has never met you, that those girls are no longer yours.  It is the reality of being given no reason for this sudden change of mind, as well as having no appeal or recourse.

Some might venture to suggest that the loss cannot be that great because, after all, you never actually met them in person.  Sadly, this might also be said to the woman who lost her child through a miscarriage or stillbirth and in neither case is that true!  We did know those children!  They were a part of us, and we were committed to their life and well-being.  They were already woven into the fabric of our family.  They were ours! We had hopes and dreams for them, and when we lost them, it was and still is a significant and shattering blow!  Please, don’t let anyone minimize or trivialize your grief regarding this!

So now what do we do? Where do we go from this very real sadness?  The way I see it, there are two things we should strive to do.  We should remember our lost children, but not in a fleeting or trivial manner.  We should accept the fact that we will so often think of them and be reminded of them and miss them.  Their memories deserved to be honored and treasured.  Secondly, it seems that we should, even while remembering them, not become trapped in those memories.  We need to move forward in our lives, striving to live a life that reflects who we are and our love for all the family still with us.

Grief is a normal and right response to the pain in our lives, to the unfairness of it. It is a natural, although by no means desired, part of life, but it is not the end or the only thing left to us.  There can be grief and joy, hope and regret.  There can still be life; I think that is the most important thing we can remember!

The Children I Don't Know but Can't Forget

I have been putting off writing this for a while. It is hard and like most people, I'm not a fan of doing hard things. However, there is a saying at our house, which I find myself repeating so often to my kids, "If something's hard, that's not a reason not to do it, it's a reason to do it." They will usually sullenly say the last part back to me, like I'm sure I did to my mom and dad with their sayings. But this is something I need to remind myself of just as often.

I figured by this point in the year we would already know what child or children we would be adopting! I wouldn't have thought we would still be waiting on a referral! This isn't where I wanted to be and from my human perspective, it doesn't seem fair or make any sense. This adoption has not gone at all like we planned or thought it should.

This post is about all the kids we tried to pursue but couldn't, for one reason or another. I never imagined this list would be so long. But you see, I'm writing this because I don't want these kids to be forgotten. My insightful sister had an especially helpful and wise perspective. She said that perhaps Luke and I became aware of these kids so we would be able to specifically pray for them. I think she's right and if you continue reading you will now know them and I hope you will pray for them as well. Read on to learn about Betty, Chloe, Zoe and Madeline, Maggie, Dotty and Hugh. These are real kids with real stories and lives, even if what I can tell you is very little. Adoption matters. These kids matter.

When we saw Betty's profile, she was three years old and had spina bifida. There was a short video of her. She wasn't talking yet. That's really all we knew. We were strongly considering pursuing her, even though we knew hardly anything about her medical condition. But then, we stumbled upon another profile, which caused us to move in a different direction.

Chloe was six and living in Asia. She was totally blind, due to literally not having eyes. We felt strongly about her and were scared for her in Asia as a blind girl. There was much doubt if her country would even work with us, due to my blindness. While we waited to find out, we found a video of her, posted on the website of the christian residential home where she was staying. I still remember the sound of her voice! I had so desperately needed that reassurance, as we had been given old information, and there was doubt as to if she could speak. I was afraid, wondering if I could safely raise a nonverbal child without sight. But God let me hear her speak! And then, the day after we heard that her country's government would work with us, we were told that her profile was no longer available and that it had most likely been given to another family, from another agency, who was further along in the process. Even though we were told of this risk up front, it still hurt. I think about her often.

So then, we decided to go back through the country where Lexy and Jon are from. We contacted the agency through which we adopted Lexy. We were familiar with the requirements and the staff and felt fairly comfortable. We started working toward adopting twin girls, Zoe and Madeline. Things seemed pretty set. We talked to the kids and Lexy began making plans as to who would have what bed. Then, the week after we had organized a garage sale to help bring them home, we were told that we had not been approved for them by the country's government. I have written much about that experience and the grief it brought and still brings. They were three when we started the process. Zoe is sighted and healthy, all things considered for living in overseas orphanages. Madeline is blind and was not speaking, last we knew. I miss them terribly.

Maggie was six when we saw her profile and were considering applying to try and adopt her. She had had a brain tumor, was not speaking and had frequent seizures. After a lot of internal struggling, I determined that I would not feel safe, as a blind person being the main caretaker, dealing with seizures. I pray someone has or will soon adopt this little girl. I resented my blindness, which I haven't done in quite a while, because I felt it prevented me from caring for her and being the mom she needs.

Dotty is three and has hydrocephalus, but to what severity we don't know. There is a high link between hydrocephalus, hearing loss and seizures. Again, as a blind person, I didn't think i could safely care for her if she had either of these, let alone both. It hurt and I grieved to say no to pursuing her further. I don't think I acted wrongly in my decision, but it still hurts and I still think of and worry over her.

Hugh is a one year old boy with a heart condition. We applied to adopt him but still have heard nothing back. It has been a long while since our application and I strongly believe that he will be another name on my list of kids whom I haven't forgotten but will never know. I never thought I'd even have such a list to begin with.

Please join me in remembering these kids and their names and what little details we o of their lives. They matter. Their stories matter. Pray for them. Pray that they are safe where they are, that they are being fed enough, that they are not being neglected medically and that they will be adopted by loving families. Adoption matters.

Sometimes I Envy Sighted Parents

I have been blind all my life. This never really bothered me until I had kids. Motherhood has caused me to realize that vision is a pretty amazing gift and there are many days that it sure would be nice to have. Now, let me clarify, I’m not wanting pity here and I’m not resentful of all the sighted parents of the world, that would be rather absurd. I would just like to give some situations in which, I think, sighted parents should be especially thankful for their vision.

1. 1. Simple Activities Aren’t Off Limits to You

My kids love to ride their bikes and swim in our apartment complex pool. Both of these are typical childish activities, that I remember enjoying as a kid. Vision is sure a handy thing to have though for monitoring of such play. I can’t safely navigate them around parked vehicles, not to mention avoid moving vehicles while they ride around in circles. As for the pool, given that both my kids are still learning to swim, I do not feel safe bringing them both to the pool at the same time. I’ve found a way to work around the pool issue , going with each child individually on separate days, but I wish they could have the fun of getting to play with each other in the water. As for the bike riding, my sighted husband does it whenever he can, but I still sometimes wish I could just take them out during any given day by myself and enjoy that special time with them. I feel like I am missing out on a fun part of their childhood.

2. 2. Matching Socks

2. Oh my goodness, I don’t have the words to articulate my frustration with socks. I can understand I begrudgingly suppose, in theory, the desire of relatives to buy my children colored socks that match perfectly with every outfit that they own. But they all feel exactly the same and they usually just end up in one huge, in discriminant, messy pile in their dresser. More often than not, they wear mismatching socks and I find that I just don’t care. Even though, as both of my children are also blind, they do not have any perception of color whatsoever, it matters a lot to them what color socks they are wearing. This too, drives me crazy. No matter how many times I explain to them that I am, like them, blind and cannot see colors, they will still incessantly ask me the color of well pretty much everything! If I had the money, I would love to hire a housekeeper (wouldn’t we all), but I’d also add an exclusive position for sock matching and color identifier for my children!

3. 3. Cleaning up Crap

3. In case anyone is wondering, I mean literal crap here. Yes, I know, this is one that is on everyone’s list. But seriously, I hate doing this as a blind person. Anyone want to guess why? Every time I’m cleaning up their rear, I’m wondering if I got it all. I’m also wondering how far I want to go to ensure that I’ve gotten it all. As you’ve probably figured out, without sight, there’s really only two other senses to make use of here. If I am by myself, I will get it done, but that’s like addding insult to injury. The worst is if they are having stomach issues and don’t make it to the toilet. Yeah, trying to gauge where that fecal matter landed without sight, and without stepping in it, is well one of the crummiest tasks ever!

4. 4. Finding that all important, Tiny Lost Toy

4. Oh, you know the one I’m talking about, that toy that your child has to have right now. You know, it’s the one they haven’t played with in weeks but suddenly randomly remembered while eating breakfast and now it’s the only thing they can think or talk about. So I ask where they last had it, because I know I’ll get a reliable and helpful answer. Now, with vision, I could just casually look around the room and tell within a few moments if that item is, in fact, in the large living room as my child emphatically insists. Instead, I get to waste time by walking the entire length and width of the whole, stupid room. Even if I do this, I will still most likely miss it. And that’s assuming that it is in fact in the living room and not on the porch, in the bathroom or at grandma’s house in Florida. And, if by an act of God, I do manage to find it, said child will play with it for a full sixty seconds, if I’m lucky, before discarding it and going on to lose something else.
5. All I can say is be thankful for your vision. It makes your parenting job, while still hard and crazy, just a little bit easier.

One Statement that Shouldn't be Said to a Grieving Mother

This is not an easy thing to write about, but I feel it needs to be done, despite my discomfort.  I hope that this can be seen as a polite, yet vitally necessary, public service announcement.  I’d like to tell you the one thing that you shouldn’t ever say to a parent who has lost a child, through either miscarriage, stillbirth, or failed adoption.

Now, I know that seeing a person grieving, whatever the cause, is hard.  You want to be of some comfort.  So I understand the good intentions that are there, I really do.  I also understand that, often, there aren’t concrete actions we can do for a person in such circumstances, so all that is left to us are words.  We want these words to be comforting, healing and encouraging.  That said, there is one phrase that is none of those things.  I have heard it myself a time or two.  It is the phrase “you didn’t know the child well or very long” and variations on such wording.

I know that being hurtful is not your impulse and when so many say this phrase, there is no malice intended.  However, that doesn’t detract from the negative emotions this statement, and the sentiment behind it, bring.  I feel I can best explain why this is the case from my own life.

You see, last year, our family thought we were going to adopt twin girls.  We were sent videos and pictures of them.  We were committed to them.  We loved them.  They were already our daughters and the sisters of our two children.  It didn’t matter that we had never seen them in person.  It didn’t matter that we had never held them before.  It didn’t matter that we had only known of their existence for a few months.  They were our girls.

So when we were told, abruptly and unexpectedly, that the government in their country had decided another family was better suited and that furthermore, we could not appeal this decision, we were devastated.  Our children had been taken from us and there was absolutely nothing we could do about it!  When someone says, in effect, the sadness can’t really be that bad because you didn’t really know them or you didn’t physically hold them, etc., it frankly hurts and feels rather demeaning.  I essentially now am put in a position where I have to justify my grief to you.  It doesn’t matter how long or short our time was with them or by what methods we interacted or how much or little we knew about them.  None of those factors influenced our love for them or how much we grieved, and honestly are still grieving, for them.

Let’s put this in a different perspective for a moment here.  You wouldn’t say such a statement to a parent who, let’s say, tragically lost their two-year-old to cancer.  You wouldn’t, not even for a second, think that just because the child was only two, instead of 12, therefore, they shouldn’t be that sad.  You wouldn’t let the length of time they had known and loved their child be a factor in assessing their grief, so why does this happen in the above mentioned situations?

As true as this is for myself, as an adoptive mother, I feel it is compounded many times over for those who have lost a child to miscarriage or stillbirth.  I beg you, do not express such words around them, no matter how kindly you mean them.  For these women, there is no possible way they could have known their child more!  They carried them; their bodies nurtured and sustained that child!  They literally felt that child growing inside them!  There is no connection that is as personal and nothing more painful and poignant when it is severed!  If you are reading this and you have experienced this loss, please don’t let anyone minimize or trivialize your grief!

The loss of a child, no matter how it happens, is probably one of the most horrible events we can endure.  Let’s be mindful of the impact of our words.  Let’s be there for each other and help each other grieve fully and well.

If You Never Feel Like Your Life is Together

My kids and I were riding in my friend’s car.  The two of us were chatting when my 5-year-old daughter, from the backseat, casually asked my friend “are you a grown up?”  My friend, who is about 15 years younger than I, paused for a moment and then said thoughtfully, “yes, but most days I don’t feel like I have things together.”  I chuckled and agreed with her; then my daughter piped up again from the backseat and in a confident tone said, “I’m together.”

When it happened, this cute exchange just made me smile, and I quickly moved on with my busy life.  However, as I took more time to consider, this short and simple conversation caused me to think about that little word which seems to relentlessly pursue us as moms: “together.”  We need to have our stuff together.  We need to be together as a wife, mom, employee and as a person in general.  We usually don’t feel together at all.  When we don’t feel together, we get frustrated with ourselves and this frustration often spills over and impacts the ones we care the most about.  How is it we can let one little word overtake us and cause us to chase such a vague concept?  What on earth does it mean to be “together” anyway?

It sure seems to me that when we use that word, we are basically trying to achieve some elusive, unattainable idea of perfection.  When we talk about feeling (or on most days, not feeling) together, what we really mean is that we’re supposed to do everything well, from every aspect of life, all the time.  We are supposed to have all the laundry done on schedule, cook all the healthy, but also good tasting, meals, keep the house clean, spend lots of quality uninterrupted time with our kids, while also being a wonderful wife and thorough and hardworking employee, as the case may be.  I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted just writing that, much less trying to accomplish such a list!

I think it’s time to drastically modify our definition of having things together.  Why are we driving ourselves crazy trying to be something that isn’t even possible?  For my part, I’m working on seeing “together” as something much simpler.  My kids were fed, bathed and dressed today.  We had some time to play and, at other points during the day, I did some (but not all) of the housework while they played without me.  We are a homeschooling family, so I focused on the essentials of their schooling for the day.  The basic necessities were done, although perhaps not in the most orderly and smooth fashion.  There are still things that need to be finished, and that’s okay!  Let’s start being realistic with ourselves and each other; life is already hard enough without us putting such burdens on our own shoulders.

Let’s be okay with doing the best we can and stop trying to attain perfection.  Our kids need to see us slow down and not be so consumed with being everything to everyone, all the time.  We need to show them that, yes, we should work hard but also to have realistic expectations of ourselves and others.  We need to learn how to be all right with delayed projects, untidy rooms at times and days when the kids eat boxed macaroni, nuggets and fries.  None of these things mean that we have failed as an adult; they’re just an example of real life.  We’re not meant to be the perfect wife, mother, and employee all the time.  No human being can be perfect at even one of those things.  It is freeing to realize this simple, yet profound, truth.  Yes, absolutely work hard for your family but don’t despair when you don’t get it all right all the time, or even some of the time.  I personally don’t want to be a grandmother who still feels like she’s “not together.”  My daughter, only being 5 and not understanding the nuanced meaning that we have added to that word, viewed being together in a more straightforward, literal way.  It meant, to her, nothing more complicated than just being with family or friends, with no extra pressure.  We have made such a simple word needlessly complicated.  I think we would all do well to take her simple, more easygoing approach to that word and to life in general.  It would probably do us all some good.

Reflections on Grief and its Place in the Christian Life

When I am dealing with or trying to process hard emotions or thoughts, I have found that writing really is an aid to me in this endeavor So when I learned of the death of a dear, believing family friend, and as I have also been thinking of many christian friends who are dealing with their own losses ,my first impulse was to sit down and write. It has been a week; I have found that this has been much harder to write on than I expected. I think that we could all agree that our society in general doesn’t like to talk about or really deal with grieving. But sadly, I think this could be said of many Christians as well. This caused me to think about a lot of questions regarding the place true grief has in a Christian’s life.

How should I, as a Christian, feel about death? How should I see it? What feelings am I allowed to have about it? Is it okay to grieve, even if the person gone was a believer? Does our hope in the resurrection negate or keep us from truly grieving? Are we downplaying the amazing hope of the gospel if we are literally mourning?

I think these are questions we shouldn’t be afraid to think about and discuss with each other. There seems to be this idea that goes something like this. Since we know, as believers in Christ, that He at the end of all things overcomes death and sin, that this understanding should cause us to grieve less. Or at the very least, it should make our grieving less painful. Some might even venture to say that we shouldn’t really be all that sad, since, if the person we lost was a believer, then they are with the Lord and we will see them again in eternity. And besides, they are much happier anyway. Yes, those are absolutely beautiful and wonderful truths and we should cling to them. They should give us hope and an anchor for our souls but I don’t believe, and don’t see from a biblical standpoint, that this disqualifies us from feeling and experiencing our grief. I also don’t see that the comfort we have in Christ puts a time limit on our grief either. In other words, it’s been 6 months, your trust in Christ and the resurrection means you should be moving on by now. I think sometimes, as Christians, if others see us truly mourning, we are afraid that this will somehow dampen our witness for Christ.

As I read through 1 Corinthians 15, I am always struck by the beautiful words of comfort. As believers in the finished work of Christ, we know our weak, decaying bodies will be replaced by glorified ones:

1 Corinthians 15: 42-45, NASB

42 So also is the resurrection of the dead. It is sown a perishable body, it is raised an imperishable body; 43 it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; 44 it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body.

This is definitely something we should find joy and comfort in, but when will this happen? Paul tells us a few verses later:

1 Corinthians 15: 51-57 NASB

51 Behold, I tell you a mystery; we will not all sleep, but we will all be changed, 52 in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet; for the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. 53 For this perishable must put on the imperishable, and this mortal must put on immortality. 54 But when this perishable will have put on the imperishable, and this mortal will have put on immortality, then will come about the saying that is written, “Death is swallowed up in victory. 55 O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” 56 The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law; 57 but thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

When will this happen? Later, in the future, whether soon or much later, we don’t know. But death is not yet defeated, at least, in our current experience. Death has taken someone from us and it shouldn’t be this way. Death, for the believer, will ultimately be crushed and we know that for certain. But right now, when we are dealing with the loss of someone we dearly loved, we are not seeing that victory firsthand. We are not yet in eternity with that person and our Lord. We are still missing that person, the sound of their voice, their affection or the ways they could make us laugh. We don’t have those things right now. We are still waiting for that ultimate victory to come and praise God that it will!

But in the meantime, while we wait, we can and should grieve. In fact, Paul in the letter to the church at Rome, acknowledges that mourning will happen. This is after he has spent the first 11 chapters outlining the wonderful and amazing truth of the gospel. Chapter 12 is a sort of “now what?” moment, now that I know all this, what do I do with it? How do I live out this faith with one another? Romans 12:15 (NASB) Paul says “Rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn.”

Notice Paul doesn’t say try and convince your fellow Christians not to mourn or limit your mourning etc. No, he simply says to grieve with those who are hurting. Mourning is not wrong and it does not undermine God and His work. It is a part of this world, that is still in sin. We can grieve while we eagerly await with joy the fulfillment of Christ’s promises. But this joy and eagerness do not need to compete with our grief.

One last example, again from Paul’s letters:

1 Thessalonians 4: 13-18 NASB

13 But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve as do the rest who have no hope. 14 For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus. 15 For this we say to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. 16 For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. 17 Then we who are alive and remain will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we shall always be with the Lord. 18 Therefore comfort one another with these words.

Notice Paul doesn’t say so that you will not grieve. He doesn’t end the sentence there. He qualifies it, saying so that you will not grieve like the rest who have no hope. Yes, we will still grieve, but with hope, but still with grief. One doesn’t negate or exclude the other.

I don’t think, myself included, we know how to mourn and lament anymore. We don’t know how to express and face our sadness. We want to do things to make it go away faster like eating or going on expensive trips etc. We want to rush through our grief as fast as we can. As believers, we shouldn’t be afraid or ashamed to bring our grief to God and to each other. Read the Psalms or Job. Let’s reclaim the rite of grieving, while we also rejoice in the hope of Christ and His resurrection!

A Lesson About Motherhood From Bike Riding

It is so strange sometimes how a simple, everyday family activity will cause me to think about deeper issues of my motherhood experience.  Today, the kids spent a couple hours riding their bikes around the parking lot.  In case anyone is concerned, my husband Luke, who is sighted, directed them and watched out for vehicles.  As I watched them work on their speed and balance, I began to think and as I find I so often do, I am now turning those thoughts into writing.  I hope they may be of some value to you.

I felt a bit of sadness in that I can't be the one to really, safely and effectively, oversee their bike riding attempts.  Vision is a very essential ability to possess in this endeavor, as there is a constant concern about cars or running into poles or parked vehicles.  I wondered if they were missing out because they can only ride their bikes when Luke is able to do this.  It felt unfair to them.
I then began to think about the summer, when our apartment complex pool opens up.  I realized that, as they are both still learning how to swim, I just don't feel safe taking both out to the pool by myself, at the same time. I am going to have to do a rotation, one day with Lexy and the other with Jon.  I felt like they would be missing out, not getting to play together in the water.  I wished I could give them that experience.  I wondered what other things they would not get to do, as fully or in the best ideal, because their mother can't see.

But then, I realized a couple things.  First, that every mother wonders this.  Every mother wonders if there is more she could or should be doing, if she should be doing everything completely different, if she is doing right by her kids, etc.  If it's not sight, then it's meals or screen time or sleep overs or... Well, you get the idea.  This train of thought isn't just only a blind mother thing.

Then, I finally started to really pay attention to what was happening after each child would finish their lap.  When Jon would come back from his, he would hang out with me, while Lexy went with Luke for her turn.  Jon would excitedly tell me what he had done on his turn, how fast he went and what silly games Luke played with him to encourage him to go even faster.  We would play a silly game we came up with, where he would drum on the handle bars and I would try to stop him by pushing his hands off.  He would laugh and ask to keep playing.
When it was Jon's turn, and Lexy was with me, she and I would talk about how excited she was to have a bike.  She would sit in my lap.  She would ring her bike bell and then tell me what "bike was saying."  She asked me if it was going to be sunny tomorrow and if we could have "swing time.", where I push her in the porch swing and we talk and/or pretend.

My lack of vision isn't stopping them and I from having fun experiences together. It may, by necessity, cause those activities to be one thing instead of another, but the experiences of mother and child are still happening.  We are still connecting and growing together.  We are still learning.  Attachment and trust are still being shaped.  This is true no matter what factor you may feel limits you as a mother.  This is such a freeing and beautiful thing to realize.  I am very glad I did and I hope you will also.

Adaptive Technology

I am often asked how do I use this or that piece of technology. So to simplify things, I figured I’d write some about the adaptive technology I use everyday. Now, I am out of the loop on the latest that is out there; when you have to pay for things yourself, it tends to make one less exuberant to always be on top of the trend. So I will talk about what I use and any of my friends feel free to include what they use that I may have overlooked or been unaware of.

Let’s start with the computer and smart phone, as I would say those are the most two common devices I am asked about. For both, the answer is very similar. There are apps that can be downloaded that will convert text on the computer or phone screen into spoken speech. I can then, using various keyboard or gesture commands, interact with what I’m hearing. So, with these awesome programs for which I am very thankful, I can read email, write documents, make spreadsheets, browse the internet or send text messages. As to phones, I sometimes make use of Google’s voice recognition for texting, but I find this usually more annoying than helpful. It often gets words incorrect and I find it is so much easier to just type out the text using my wireless keyboard.

Now let’s take printed material, like mail. Now my usual fix for this is just to ask Luke :) but there are apps that have been developed for phones, that can take a picture of the document, using the phone’s camera and then the picture can be recognized and the text read aloud. It really is quite incredible. I don’t utilize this myself, as honestly, what printed material I do have to work through can be done with Luke’s help just as quickly and easily. But for those who don’t have a sighted family member nearby, these apps are amazing things! As of yet, I’m not familiar with anything that can recognize handwritten text, which given the variety and styles of handwriting makes sense. The technology has come a long way in this area though; I remember using a stand-alone, large and bulky machine that scanned a page at a time and then would read it aloud, after a bit of processing time per page. Then, it was shaved down to the computer and its scanner and now it’s in the phone. That technology is becoming smaller and more accurate and it is exciting.

Now, let’s go to something a bit more mundane, household appliances. There are a few ways to do this. I have a braille labeler, which I can use to type out braille labels that can then be taped on the spot on the screen, buttons or dials etc. Or, I can use the lazier method, and put pieces of tape on the appropriate spot. This is how I have my oven, microwave and washer/drier labeled and it gets the job done. Not everything has to be high tech. :)

I suppose the last one to tackle is driving. I usually get rides from my husband :) or uber. There is also the bus system but that usually takes much longer to get anywhere that way. I am excited to see if self-driving cars will take off, no pun intended there :). While I’m a bit nervous about the concept, it would also mean so much freedom for me and so many others. It would be quite an experience, that’s for sure.

Well, I hope this has given you an interesting look into my world and how I get things done. I am so glad to have been born in the late 20^th century, when so many technological breakthroughs have been happening. That is something I never want to take for granted.

Featured Articles and Podcasts

I am a wife, mother and writer who happens to be completely blind. I started writing because people seemed interested in our rather unique family situation.  My husband is currently the only sighted member; we are raising two blind children, whom we adopted from Eastern Europe.I am expecting our third child in April, my first pregnancy. I have my msw from Florida State University and have worked as a case manager at a homeless shelter, in a group foster home and have taught adaptive technology and directed a summer camp for blind and sighted kids.
I began writing about adoption, parenting and blindness issues on this blog, back in August of 2018.  It took some time and a lot of encouragement from my wonderful husband, but I finally decided to submit some of my writing to other parenting sites. I thought perhaps my perspective would be interesting and informative to some but it was still a huge step to take that leap.

This is a list of articles that have been published outside my blog. I hope you will enjoy reading them and feel free to share any that you think your friends might find interesting and/or amusing. :)

Scary Mommy

I’m a Blind Mom Raising blind Kids, Here’s What I’d Like You to Know


My Blind Daughter was Called Wierd by Another Kid

the Mighty

Learning What it Means to be a Blind Mom


What Does Independence Mean
I'm Blind, Not Deaf

Filter Free Parents

Three Questions Never to Ask a Family that Has Adopted

Her View from Home

The Work of Marriage Matters

For Every Mom

 When Being a Mother Didn't Make Me Feel Happy
Four Years Later: a Letter of Encouragement to My New Mom Self


Fellow Moms, Let's Include Our Kids in the Holiday Work

 Learning to Serve my children

 Inspire More

 A Lesson in Strength From My Ten Year Old Son 
I'm a Blind Mother Parenting Blind Children 
Witnessing Strangers Become Siblings 
Experiencing the Grand Canyon Without Sight 
Adoption Matters: a Story of Four Boys

Podcasts

Revive

Episode: 06/11/2019

Real Talk: All Things Inclusion

 Episode 84 08/23/2019

The Adverse Effect

 Episode 33: A Blind View with Ashley Wayne

A Letter to My Son: Keep Overcoming

Dear son,

I remember when I first met you in that eastern European orphanage.  You couldn’t walk, but rather stumbled and stomped about, and only when a worker held you up by your hands.  Your legs were weak and your steps extremely uncertain.  Your skin was pockmarked, and you were so thin for your age of seven and a half years.

It is not our proudest moment to say this, but your dad and I were nervous.  We had been told that you were blind, just as your sister and I are.  We were familiar and comfortable with blindness; it was already our normal.  However, we were also told you had cerebral palsy, but to what extent, we had no idea.  We honestly didn’t know much about cerebral palsy.  We were told repeatedly by the orphanage staff that your entire left side was weak, and we should avoid things like holding your left hand, for example.  When we visited you at meals, all you ever had was runny soup and a piece of bread.  You didn’t know any English, and our questions to your caregivers about your schooling were met with vague, roundabout answers.  But son, please do not be angry at those who cared for you before you became ours.  They were doing the best they could with what little time, information and resources they had.  We hold no malice towards them, and I hope you won’t either.

 Please believe me when I say that I’m not bringing up any of these things about your past to shame or humiliate you.  On the contrary, I want you to know where you came from so you can all the more easily see how far you’ve come!  I want you to see how truly incredible you are and how your determination has impacted your dad and I.  I want others to learn from your perseverance and strength of will.  You’ve only been home with us for 17 months, but in such a short amount of time, you have overcome in so many areas!  You have astounded so many people, including us.

Keep overcoming your supposed physical limitations.  When you first came home, we wondered if you would be able to climb the stairs, unassisted.  Within two days, your dad had taught you how to use both hands on the railing for support and you were navigating those stairs!  Within a couple weeks, you had learned to scoot around the living room and you reveled in this new-found independence.  When we first took you to physical therapy, it was doubted whether you would ever be able to walk on your own.  You started to use a walker and loved it but we weren’t sure if you would ever be able to be without it.

 Within three months of coming home, you took your first tentative, unassisted steps at grandma’s house!  I wish you could understand how proud of you your dad and I were at that moment and what an incredible feat you were accomplishing! You were so scared but determined, and you let the excitement of getting to ring that musical doorbell at grandma’s front door, motivate you to walk farther and farther on your own. 

 

When you first came home, you were afraid to use your left hand for anything.  Now, you know that God gave you two good, strong hands and you are using them both to play piano.  When you first came home, the heaviest thing you most likely ever lifted in your orphanage life was your shoes.  Now, you are gaining the upper body strength to hold your own growing body weight on one of the uneven bars at your sister’s gymnastics facility.  In your orphanage life, you mostly sat on a couch, with only a TV or radio for amusement.  Now you are running down our hallway, jumping on your trampoline and even jumping some without support!  Your legs continue to grow even stronger; you are now also able to pedal your new adaptive bike!

My son, keep overcoming in your learning.  You have grasped English incredibly well for how short a time you’ve been home with us!  If I were suddenly uprooted and thrown into a place where no one spoke my language or understood anything I said, I’d be a bawling mess!  But not you.  You aren’t afraid to put yourself out there and just talk to people.  I love seeing you at church, the playground or restaurant, talking with whoever will listen.  You have learned so many new concepts since you’ve been with us.  You can read short sentences using embossed print letters and braille as well. You have a knack for phonics and spelling and are grasping the basics of grammar.  You are learning how to add and subtract and are even learning about the geography of United States, this new place that is your home.

You have already become so much more than I think anyone in your home country would have imagined.  Honestly, you have amazed me.  Yes, your dad and I try every day to give you the opportunities, encouragement, and tools to overcome.  We try and challenge you to learn and work as hard as you can.  But if you did not have the desire to overcome, to become more, the drive to push yourself, even when it’s hard, none of what we do would matter.  My son, keep overcoming!  My son, keep teaching us and everyone around you that a person doesn’t have to be defined only by their disability, current circumstances or for that matter, their past.  We are so glad to be a part of your journey of overcoming and can’t wait to see how far the next years take you! Your dad and I are so proud of you.

Your Parents

Unexpected Lessons of Motherhood

Before I actually had kids of my own, I thought of motherhood as primarily a teaching role.  This seems laughable now, as I have very quickly become aware of how many different and unrelated tasks I have to keep up with every day.  I suppose this fixation on teaching came from all I remembered my mother doing to prepare me for life and how she tried to make any mundane experience a teaching moment.  I intellectually knew that motherhood involved so much more than the teaching component, but for some reason, this was where my focus rested.  Before I actually became a mother, I was often worried about how I would go about teaching my kids.  There were so many facets of living, how could I accurately and diligently cover them all, without making life utterly boring for my poor children?  I’d spend time thinking about what life lessons were essential.  I was concerned, not sure if I was really cut out to navigate them through the craziness and complexity of life.  I found myself worrying about everything from teaching them how to handle unkindness from others, money management, generosity, cleanliness, and everything in between.  Needless to say, all that planning and pondering accomplished little.  When we first brought our daughter home three years ago, it didn’t take me long to realize that, while I did have a responsibility to teach her about the world and how it all works, she (and her brother, who soon followed, would be teaching me just as much.  These are lessons I am still in the process of learning each day.

I am slowly learning that time together is more important than tasks.  I quickly found as a mother that, if I’m not careful, I can spend all my time doing things for my kids instead of simply doing things with them.  It is so easy to become focused on the tangible tasks, like making sure their clothes are always clean, making sure they have good food to eat and making sure that their rooms are kept tidy.  While these things are important, I can’t let them keep me from just playing with my kids, even if it is in their messy rooms.  They value time with me, and I need to honor that.  They would rather play "Connect 4" or tag then have dinner be punctually on the table by 6 P.M every night.  When I do slow down (regrettably less than I wish), it’s amazing what ends up happening.  The tasks still get done, just a bit later than normal, and they and I thoroughly enjoy our time together!  Overall, that day is less stressful, and the kids are even somewhat better behaved.

I am learning that I need others.  I was born blind, and as I went through middle/high school and college, I found myself feeling that I had to do it all.  I had to prove that blind people were just as capable as anyone else in literally everything.  I felt that, if I didn’t do this, I was giving all blind people everywhere a negative reputation.  Needless to say, this attitude was exhausting and untenable long term.  Parenting has quickly removed any last remnants of that way of thinking from me.  We all need each other.  We need each other’s wisdom, strength, encouragement, accountability and kindness.  I can learn just as much from another sighted parent or one who is blind like I am.  Parenting shouldn’t be a solo effort. All that will do is exhaust us, and our kids will feel our exhaustion and think that they don’t need others either.

I am learning, and this is the hardest for me because it hits my pride, that I am not the person I thought I was.  If you had asked me before kids came along, I would have said I figured myself to be a fairly low-key person.  I didn’t get easily upset, wasn’t petty, was fairly patient and I wouldn’t have really described myself as selfish.  Well, the constant needs of my children and the physical and emotional demands of being a mother have shattered all my delusions of grandeur in regards to my wonderful personality.  I quickly discovered, to my shame, that I am the opposite of who I thought I was.  However, I have found that God, through my children, is turning even this into a beautiful new opportunity and yes, another teaching moment.

I am learning about forgiveness.  My kids are so quick to forgive and continue on as if nothing happened.  They are so quick to look past my short temper and frustrated, hurried answers, as I struggle to fold laundry and make dinner.  This constantly reminds me that there is another chance and that God is using my kids to grow and drastically change my character.  It is a beautiful and frightening thing, but I am so glad I am experiencing it.  So now, while I strive to raise my kids the best I can, I am grateful for all they are teaching me, even if at times I am an unwilling student.

Two Sorrow Filled Letters

***Author’s note:

I struggled with whether or not I would even right this. The topic of abortion is always on my mind, but after what was being celebrated in New York recently, I knew I couldn’t keep silent anymore. So many have written much about all this and with words more eloquent and meaningful than mine. I decided to write these letters for two reasons. First, as is often the case for me, writing is a way for me to process my thoughts and emotions. The second reason is simply that this bothers me so much, I would be going against my own conscience not to write.

I have two questions, for all those who support abortion (and let’s all be adults here and not use soft, vague euphemistic terms), shall we? Let’s call it what it actually is, murder. First, using accurate words and descriptions, could you tell your own child, niece or nephew or student, about what you support? Could you tell them, in vivid accurate detail, what is done to the child? Could you tell them why it is done, not omitting the more selfish reasons like simply not wanting a child right now or not wanting one’s body shape to change? What would you answer if they looked at you and asked “Would you have done that to me?” Do you really think that they will feel any safer about the world simply because you or their parent chose, in this particular case, to let them live? Aren’t they lucky! Their brother or sister or friend’s sibling, might not be so lucky.

Second, why is at birth the cut off point? Why not after birth? What’s the difference? Why is that child’s life suddenly and mysteriously now valued, once they’ve come through the birth canal? If there ever comes a point where it’s decided that life can be ended up to some arbitrary time after birth, what’s to keep that time from growing? One day, one week, one month, one year, 5 years? Longer? Why stop at children?

End Author’s Note***

To The Unborn:

As a mother, it grieves and pains me that I even have to write this letter. I am so very sorry. Those words sound so shallow and useless and in the face of what is and has been happening for such a long time, I suppose that really is what they are. It truly sickens me that I have to say these things and stumble over my words, trying to find a way to apologize for how many of your lives, have been and are being, brutally cut short. And how can one, in any meaningful way, ever apologize for such an insane act of violence?

I am sorry! I am sorry that you are not valued. I am sorry that you are not seen as the blessing you truly are. I am sorry that you are not wanted, desired or deemed worthy of overcoming what difficulties might arise from your birth. I’m sorry that we, as a society, put our convenience, comfort and needs above yours.

I am sorry that your lives are ended due to the circumstances of your coming into being, your gender, race or medical diagnosis. I am sorry that your lives are ended, even when there are families who would love nothing more than to adopt you and make you a part of theirs. I am sorry that your lives are seen as expendable and not worth protecting. I am sorry that we, as a society, value puppies and kittens much more than we value you. I am so sorry that there are many who celebrate the end of your lives, as a freedom and choice of others to make. I am sorry that your mothers are not valued enough to be told the truth, that being your mother is the most beautiful and incredible and empowering gift they could be given! I am sorry that, while your mother’s womb should be the safest place you could be, it has become, for many of you, a place where your life was ended in methods more brutal than we would tolerate for animals.

I am trying. I want you to know that I will never stop fighting for you. Through my written words and what I say, I will do my best to make people acknowledge you and what is being done to so many of you. I will adopt as many as I and my family are able. I will not forget you. I will mourn for you, while many celebrate your deaths. I will mourn for the person you should have gotten the chance to be. I pray that God will break our hearts for what we are doing. He alone can forgive and restore us.

With grate sadness,

A grieving Mother

To Jon and Lexy:

My two wonderful children, I wish I didn’t have to write this letter to you. I pray that perhaps a day will come when what I say here will no longer be true in America, the place which we brought you, so that you could be a part of our family. I wish you would never have to learn what the word abortion means. Lexy, when you first heard of a miscarriage and came to understand what that meant, you were rightly, so sad. I hate that one day, probably all to soon, you will learn that many babies are killed on purpose.

I hate so much that you will learn that mothers and fathers, who should be doing everything in their power to keep their babies safe, are more often than not the ones who decide to end the life of their child. You will soon learn that there are doctors, who instead of helping people feel better, inflict severe pain on babies before ending their lives and cause much fear and discomfort to their mothers. You will soon see that so many people rejoice over these things. I’m so sorry that you have to grow up in a place where this is seen as liberating, open-minded and empowering for women. I am so sorry that you have to grow up in a place where life is not treasured and given the dignity it deserves. I wish you didn’t live in a country where we so regularly discard the most vulnerable members.

I want you both to know that this is not okay! This is not how God designed things to be! I want you to know that your father and I, and so many others, are not accepting this as normal. Just as your lives matter, so do the lives of all children and their parents. Both children and their parents, deserve so much more than these lies!

Jon and Lexy, we are doing all that we can. Now you may understand another reason why we are always talking about adoption. It is a way that we can do something to combat all this. I am so overjoyed that, in spite of their difficulties, your birth mothers didn’t listen to the lie. I’m so glad they chose to let you live; we would have been robbed of something so precious if they hadn’t.

I love you both so much! I pray that when you grow up, you will be champions of life. I pray that you will find ways to support and strengthen mothers, fathers and their children. I pray that you will value all life, as we are all created in God’s image. I will be there, right alongside you in this endeavor.

With Much Love,

Your Mother

What I Want My Daughter to Know About Being a Stay-at-home-mom

Dear daughter,

As you grow older, you’re going to hear a lot about what you should and shouldn’t do as a woman.  You’ll hear it from your friends, on the TV, radio and you’ll read numerous opinions all over social media (or whatever you’re using by then).  You’ll probably hear a lot of things said about being a mother, particularly a mother who stays at home with her kids.  As the one who freely made that choice, I’d like to share with you my honest thoughts on that life, and I hope they can be a help for you as you grow older.

Being a stay at home mom is not easy but, no matter what you may hear, neither is any type of work.  Every job has difficulties and frustrations. No matter what work you choose, there will be days when you just don’t want to do it.  Being a stay at home mom can be lonely sometimes, but everyone has seasons of loneliness; that is just part of being human.  Being a stay at home mom has its share of exhaustion and feelings of being overwhelmed, but these are periods of life that everyone must face.  Being a stay at home mom is quite repetitive at times, but every type of work has its repetition.  Repetition is a part of life, no matter what wishful thinking you may hear to the contrary.  In fact, repetition is built into the very world we live in; the sun rises and sets the same every day, the moon pulls on the tides the same way and the cells of our bodies grow and divide in the same manner every time.

As you grow up, you may hear that staying home with your kids is not good enough.  You may hear that you should be doing more with your life.  You may hear that, by “just staying home with your kids,” you are not doing anything to advance the cause for women.  You may hear that by choosing to stay home, you aren’t contributing to the family. You may hear that by staying home and raising your children, you are advancing and defending the patriarchy.  You may even hear that stay-at-home moms aren’t busy and are just lazy.  Please, my daughter, allow me to offer a different view for your consideration.

You see, in every type of work, there are many different roles.  Not every person does the exact same thing, but these differing roles complement each other.  Each role may have its own set of unique tasks, but each is vital to the other’s success.  The delivery driver for a restaurant does not keep the establishment running solely through his role as the one who brings in the needed supplies.  Are he and his role important?  Absolutely, but without a chef, servers, and dishwashers, just to name a few, there would be no restaurant needing his delivery services.  Do police officers and firefighters perform the same work? No, but I’d hate to live in a world without both of them present.

Your dad works hard for our family, and he earns the money, which provides us with a home, food, and clothes, among other things.  But, my dear daughter, who do you think is the one that manages all those resources?  In our family, who is the cook, housekeeper, laundress, bookkeeper, secretary, and (as I chose to homeschool) educator?  This is my special and, I believe, God-given role and I can’t imagine a more dignified, worthy and weighty cause than to be the one responsible for managing all the resources of our household.  By choosing to stay home, I have chosen the empowering role of being the one who holds our house together, by combining many different types of work.  If I had chosen to do any one of these same jobs outside our home, that sadly would be seen by some as being more honorable or worthy than doing all these jobs for my own family.  Both a provider of resources and a manager of those resources are needed for our household to not only function, but thrive.

I am thankful that I have the opportunity to know that you, your brother and dad are fed well, have clean clothes and live in a clean (most of the time) home because I am the one taking on those responsibilities.  I have been blessed with the chance to teach you and your brother about the amazing world that was made for us.  And let me tell you, there are days when it is quite empowering to think through the variety of unrelated tasks that I have managed to accomplish in one day.  There is nothing subservient or weak about such a feat.

Now, I know that you may not choose this course.  I also know that not every woman is able to make or wants to make this choice.  But I want you to know that it is a dignified, honorable, and strong choice!  Does it require sacrifice?  Most certainly! But anything worthwhile and lasting in life will require sacrifice.  Sacrifice, in and of itself, is not a bad thing.  You and the rest of our family are worth sacrificing for.  And through those sacrifices, I have discovered strength I didn’t know I had.  Thank you for giving me that opportunity.

How Do I Homeschool My Blind children?

I am asked quite often how exactly do I homeschool my kids? I think this is a fair question as they are both blind and so am I. The assumption that it would look a bit different is quite fair. However, when I am asked this question, I have found that what people usually mean by it is what program or curriculum do I use? After all, most homeschooling families either seem to have the one curriculum they swear by or will use one curriculum for certain subjects and another for others. I don't, as of yet, utilize any set curriculum, so this can make this a more difficult question to answer succinctly.

I suppose the best way I can summarize my current approach (that's one of the awesome things about homeschooling, I can be so flexible) is that I take each subject in turn and try and map out what aspects of that subject my kids, at their age and development level, need to know. This isn't set in stone, it can be changed if one or both seem to be struggling in a certain area of a subject. I then will buy, if need be, tactile tools to teach those aspects or utilize things I already have around the house. So in essence, I am not relying on an already prepared curriculum (although there is nothing wrong with those) but I am putting together one on my own and finding the right tools that will work well with my kids. Let me give a couple examples that I hope will make this a bit clearer.

Let's start with phonics. It was fairly easy for me to teach letter recognition and corresponding sounds. I bought tiles that have embossed print letters on them that can be felt. I also have various magnet letter variations, which help them in recognizing letters in slightly different forms.

Once they had the basic recognition and sound/s of each letter fairly well known, the next natural step seemed to be to then move to blends or combinations of letter sounds, such as cl or ch or st. Once this foundation was set, I could then move on to spelling, utilizing the knowledge we had worked on from the previous lessons. I teach these concepts very informally, often in game form and so far it is working quite well. Jon in particular, is a good speller. This progression from phonics to spelling then naturally moves on to reading, first simple words, then simple sentences. I do utilize resources on the internet, particularly for sentence samples or word lists, but I don't rely on them. I am putting it together from my own mental faculties and just what would be common sense for them to learn at their age.

I'll give one more example, geography. Now this may seem an odd thing for me to consider with my 5 year old, but I see no reason why she shouldn't start to have a grasp of the world. So I started with her a year and a half ago, just by memorizing states and capitals. We started with states that she had a connection to, such as where relatives lived or where we had previously visited. She would learn those and then ask me for more.

After a few months, I could tell she was getting bored with straight memorization, so out of curiosity to see if she could grasp this, I bought her a US puzzle map. I thought perhaps seeing the states in physical relation to each other would make this subject more interesting for her. I was, in this case, correct and she now knows well over half the map.

Neither of these examples are are the exact way I approach a subject each day. . I am finding it so far to be a very fluid approach and a lot of trail and error. I gage how well they are grasping a concept of a subject and I can either back off to a simpler/basic concept or move forward in that subject if need be. I imagine, as they get older, that I will eventually use an already prepared, written curriculum, but for now, I see no need. I enjoy the freedom of this method and while at times it is challenging to come up with the lessons on my own, it is stretching and growing me. I am finding I can teach on my own, putting together my own lesson plans. I am seeing progress, Lexy is starting to grasp braille. I have been working with her for almost a year and it has been so nice to not feel rushed or pressured by a set book and its pace. I don’t have to rush her to be at a certain point, that is very freeing for both of us.

What Homeschooling my Children Has Taught Me

One of the benefits of homeschooling my kids is that I get to essentially learn or re-learn things right along with them.  When we first made the decision to homeschool, I had figured this would be a nice bonus, but honestly didn't think I would be seeing the benefits of it so soon.  Let me tell you about three fun examples of what I have been taught so far while teaching my kids.  I'd love to hear from other homeschooling parents if they have had similar experiences.

One of the things I knew immediately that I wanted my kids to know was how to read print.  I planned to teach them braille as well, but I also wanted them to know the shape of raised/embossed print letters, like you often find on signs.  There is just so much practical benefit to this skill; I didn't want them to miss out.  I never learned this. I was taught braille very young but had no idea about print letters. Well, here was an interesting problem.  How could I teach my kids something that I didn't know myself?  The only solution was for me to learn this right along with them.

Now, this probably sounds like a huge undertaking.  But I've realized something awesome about homeschooling and that is, I don't have to know the whole of a subject to teach it to my kids. I basically just have to be one step ahead of them in the learning process.  So I would have my husband, Luke, teach me a few letters (we have various magnet letters and tiles that have raised print on them) and once I knew those well, I would then teach the kids.  Once they were on their way to mastering, let's say, a through d, I'd have Luke teach me a few more.  This system allowed me to teach them all 26 letters while learning it along with them.  It was actually pretty exciting.

After I had used this system for teaching Lexy, she and I had a very fun outing.  We went out and found embossed print on random objects in our neighborhood and we were both able to read it together!  Although, I'll confess, she did better than me at dealing with the different fonts.  I wasn't even bothered by that; I was just proud.  And as for myself, it really felt amazing to be able to read print!

Let's take a subject that I did learn in school, US geography.  I remember having to learn the US map by touch in fifth grade; I worked really hard to be able to do that for the test.  And I'm pretty sure I promptly forgot it almost immediately afterward.  Mrs. Tallman, if you ever read this, I’m sorry. :)  Well, I had started to teach Lexy about states and capitals, but after a few months of just memorization, I could tell she was quickly growing bored.  So, just to see how it would go, we got her a US puzzle map.  She really enjoys it and knows a good half of the US map.  But of course, I had to learn it before I could show her where all those states are in relation to each other.

So, you guessed it, Luke teaches me a few states at a time and, just like with the letters, it's working.  I really am enjoying re-learning the layout of our country. It just feels good to know this simple thing again.  I had always been hesitant about homeschooling because I didn't think I had the time to raise kids while learning an entire subject that was foreign to me.  But really, once I realized that I don't have to know the whole thing before they do, it really opens up so many possibilities.

For example, as Lexy began to dive into her US map, we thought, "what about expanding that knowledge base?"  She already knew the continents, so we found a Europe map puzzle.  I’m very sad to say that I’m a typical American and knew virutally nothing about European geography. Now, thanks to teaching my daughter, that is changing. It is seriously so cool, I mean, I now know that Spain is east of Portugal or that Bulgaria is north of Greece.  We are learning and discovering together and it is just so interesting.  I love being a part of my children's education, while also learning myself.  It is another way for us to connect.

One last example is numbers.  I don't mean arithmetic but simply recognizing the shape of print numbers.  That is something I did not know either before homeschooling, having only ever known braille.  It has been fun to teach them the numbers and now we can all recognize them in elevators or on hotel signs.  The best part is that these things have been just as useful for me to learn as they have been for the kids.  I don't feel like I am teaching them useless things; we are all learning practical skills that we all need.

Now, don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of challenging homeschool days.  Even so, I am glad to be the primary educator of the family.  It is a joy to see them discover the world and even more fun to get to learn right along beside them.