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.