Who is John Big John?
Come for the cake. Stay for the Blog!Syndicate
Conversations with a 3 year old
LOGAN: Daddy?
ME: Yes Logan?
LOGAN: Daddy?
ME: What is it buddy?
LOGAN: Daddy??
ME: Yes? What do you need?
LOGAN: Daddy?
ME: Logan?
LOGAN: Daddy?!
ME: What Logan???
LOGAN: DADDY!!!???
ME: What????!!!!! What is it????
LOGAN: DADDY??????
ME: WHAT??? WHAT? DO? YOU? WANT????!!!!!
Logan: Daddy....
ME: Yes....?
LOGAN: STOP TALKING TO ME!!!!!!!
ME: Fine.....
(two minutes later)
LOGAN: Daddy?
ME: ......
LOGAN: Daddy????
ME: ......
LOGAN: DAAAAAADDDDDDY??????
ME: ......
LOGAN: Daddy? Daddy? Daddy? Daddy? Daddy? Daddy? Da-
ME: What is it Logan?
LOGAN: I SAID BE QUIET!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOOOOOOOOOP TAAAAAllllllKING TO MEEEEEEEEEEE!
ME: *sigh*
LOGAN: Daddy....?
Adams Camp Day Five: Where The River Bends
Have you heard of the new feature that they have for google email? It is a little thing where you can stop an email you have just sent someone before it gets there. I imagine that this can be a useful thing for people who make a practice of sending out messages to people while they are in a heightened state of emotion. (drunken, broken hearted, Hulk-Angry, etc) It is kind of like a fail safe key for those who gather their wits a few moments after pressing send and realize that maybe they should rethink their motivation for writing it in first place. Sometimes writing things out of emotion is something that can lead to moments of deep and profound regret.
I know that in a few years I could look back on my blogging days and feel a little weirded out that I wrote some of these while bathed in emotion. I could very well equate my logic in doing this to drunk texting. Doing these little entries is certainly something that is well beyond my comfort zone...but what I learned while not blogging for a month was that I kind of came to need it. Virtual therapy? Sure, probably. But this little ritual of parading my skeletons out into the light has taught me one thing....
There are plenty of people who walk the same path my family and I are taking.
Through my years of blogging both here and the now uber creepy My Space I have come into contact with many other people who struggle, celebrate, and worry over the same stuff I do. Just this week I have received many messages of mockery, support, questions, and love from these folks. Thank you from the bottom of my Culture Club loving heart! Talking about my sons journey into the maze of autism has brought some wonderful people into my life....
I do however, know that there are people who read this who are not walking down the same road. For those of you who read this we may share nothing in common. You may not be raising a child with special needs or any child at all, you might not be afraid of clowns, you just might actually like the movie "Sleepwalkers". But....I am hopeful that maybe there is something of some value here that can feed you even in the slightest. Even if it is the thought "Yikes...I thought my life was a mess. Thank God I have Roedel for a measuring stick."
So maybe this past week of blogging has been something that may not have had anything in it that you could relate to. I understand if that is the case. However, maybe in my final Adam's Camp 09 entry I have a simple theme that could apply to most. Have you ever been on a vacation, or at a party, dinner party with friends, retreat, or at a movie that you never wanted to end? That when the time of closure was on it's way you had the wave of pressure wash over you. Even though you had pushed the pause button on your life it was now time to get it rolling again. All of the crap, bills, conflicts, and worries that you were able to suspend were now coming back to the front burner...
That feeling sucks. Super Duper Ouper Hooper Sucks. (my spell check is going to love that sentence..)
Sitting here in this sacred place just a few hours before going back to real world I am fretting over it. I am not sure I want to go back to a place where I have to explain our family situation every twenty minutes. I am not sure I want to go back and have to convince some people that my son is not someone who is broken. I am not sure I want to go back and feel like it is a constant fight to keep the vultures of underestimation away from my little guy. I am not sure I want to go back to our families crazy busy summer where one of us is flying out the door every few minutes to something that at the time seems important. I am not sure that I want to go back to a place where I don't feel centered in my soul and connected to the invisible.
When we leave Rockies tomorrow we follow a windy path into and up a large mountain pass. We will follow a river against it's flow that leads us to the incline and the steep climb. These river bends and eventually turns into a series of waterfalls that cascade down beautifully from the peaks above. I am already sad about reaching the place where the river bends...because that means our land of sunshine and unicorn snuggles is coming to an end. I am nervous about reaching the place where the river bends because I worry about what the next year brings for us. Going to where the river bends is like going back into the Wardrobe and escaping Narnia or going up the rabbit hole and away from Wonderland. I have been where the River Bends...and the grass is not as green as it is here.
So for tonight I will fight reality. I know that sometime around 4 pm mst tomorrow we will be passing the place where the river bends. I know that tomorrow new battles will begin, and the newfound fire in my belly will push me into further action. Til' then I will deny that it is happening. Just for the next few hours I will not think about going where the River Bends.
Adam's Camp Day Four: Super Sibs
I will keep tonights entry short. Partly out of mercy to those of you who have been very kindly following my Adam's Camp Blog series...and partly because I am really sleepy. I was stalked last night by a porcupine who decided it needed to rub it's quills up against the screen door and grow and hiss at me for a couple hours starting around midnight. The reason this prickly demon of the night (hey that sounds like my old trucker handle) decided to do this is unclear. I imagine it did it because nature hates me. I mean really really really hates me. The porcupine
was just another attempt by Mother Nature to break my spirit. It kind of worked.....
I managed to take one picture of it between freak out sessions. I googled porcupines while it tormented me and I discovered how truly violent and angry these critters are. (note: This may be a blog first...I have never to my knowledge ever typed the word "critter". I kind of feel like a Dad Gum woodland yokel now. note 2: No offense to people who use the word "critter" or for anyone who is a registered yokel. I am just still a little unnerved by the pokeymonster that is still out there in the woods waiting for me to sprain my ankle so it can sneak up behind me and give me a dose of it's spiky medicine. note 3: I am not over-reacting. (much) This was a really big and angry porcupine. It looked like it had been bred with CHUD. note 4: In case you don't remember CHUD...here you go
Anyways the creature stayed outside our cabin until all hours of the night. I could not sleep while it was there. How could I??? What if it "jimmied" the locks and came in and decided to play a very unnatural game of house with me?? I am certain that I would not do well waking up to a porcupine breathing in my face. If I can't handle snorting Ladybugs...there was no way I could handle coming to death blows with something that looked like this. So I waited the beast out. I paced up and down the living room til it decided it had enough fun...then after pooping all over my porch it lumbered back out into the pitch black woods. I wept myself to sleep....
SO....anyway that is why I am tired tonight. And....that was why I wanted to keep my entry short tonight. It appears that I am not doing a very good job of that...
Yesterday Riley (our six year old) asked my wife and I about his brother's autism. We talked about it...but frankly we were unprepared. He had finally figured out what was going on with his older bro...and he wanted answers. Jennifer and I (really it was mostly her...I just nodded and blinked a lot) did the best we could explaining things to him. It turns out that explaining autism to a six year old was in some ways harder and in some ways easier than explaining it to an adult.
It went something like this:
Riley Roo: What is it me that Noah is Artustic?
US: You mean Autistic?
Riley Roo: Um...yeah.
US: Where did you hear that word?
ROO: Everyone else in my group has a brother or sister who is Awe-tustic. Is that was Noah is?
US: Oh. Yeah...that would make sense. Yes, honey he is autistic.
ROO: Oh. Cool.
(long pause)
US: The only thing that it means is that Noah sometimes needs a little extra help.
ROO: Ok.
US: He is still the same brother you have always known. He just sometimes needs a little help with some things.
ROO: Ok.
US: Do you understand?
ROO: Yeah......
US: Do you have any questions for us?
ROO: Can he still play with me?
US: Of course. He needs you to play with him. You are the best thing that ever happened to him.
ROO: Me?
US: Yes. You always invite him to join you with other people, you are able to go inside his world and play with him, and you have been his best friend since the day you were born.
ROO: Oh. Okay.
US: Always be that way for him. Even when you get older. You will always have to be there for him.
ROO: Ok.
US: Any other questions?
ROO: Do I have Artism.
US: Autism. No sweetie. You are built like mommy and daddy. Noah was built in a special way.
ROO: Oh.
US: We love you very very very much. We love you just as much as we love him. Do you know that?
ROO: Yes. He just needs a little extra help.
US: Right!
ROO: Can I have some soda pop?
US: Lord no!
Sometimes the forgotten group in the journey with children who are living with autism are their siblings. They are the ones who sometimes get pushed on the back, back, back burner. They are not on a "special" diet like their brother/sister. Nor do they get to go to "special" therapy like their sibling. And people don't get as excited for them when they graduate like they do for their special brother or sister. These brothers and sisters of special needs children are forced to grow up quicker than most other kids. They are asked to help out in special ways and to understand complicated adult issues.
Often times these siblings are the best thing to ever happen to a child with a disability. Even if they are by age considered to be "younger" they usually are required to eventually become the "older" child. They have to be Mommy and Daddy's hands, eyes, and ears when their parents are right near by. These sib's are called to be compassionate, forgiving, and understanding way beyond their years.
This year at camp Riley has really bonded with a group of kids who are just like him. They are the brothers/sisters of children with Autism. He has found a crew that is walking the same path as he. He is part of a very real community. These "kids" are amazing...and each of them are the front line hero's for their special brother or sister.
Riley Roo and the other "Super-Sib's" of Adam's Camp continue to be the light in their brothers/sisters lives.
Dear Riley,
Thank God for you. You are saving your brothers life one day, one game, one smile, one hug, one high five, one mercy, one sharing, one hand holding moment at a time. People say that you remind them of me. I scoff at that. You are way too strong to be compared to me. You are going to lead a life that will forever be somehow tethered to your bro's. You are and will forever be a guiding light in his journey...and it some days will not be easy for you. He needs your never ending joy in his life.
So does everyone. Make no mistake you will make your mark on Earth. Thank you for being our son.
p.s. If I turn up missing. Search the woods...I think the porcupines are coming to ge..
Adam's Cap Day Three: Sigh.
Sigh.
Life is good.
In fact so is God.
Everything feels so right.
Even if it is just for one night.
Everything is right where it needs to be.
This day was designed with care by a higher power!
There is nothing but peace in the Valley of The Roedel.
For the first time I am sitting alone at night without needles worry.
My heart and mind are still with crystal clear memories of the ending day.
This has just been one of those days where everything clicked together perfectly.
Sleeping children, snoring puppies, and parents who have smile wrinkles in our cabin tonight.
There will be hard days ahead, days so difficult that I will look back to this one and use as an anchor.
I know that I am a better person than I was when I pushed myself out of the cabin door this morn.
I am exhausted beyond belief but not too tired to realize that I am experiencing grace here.
I am surrounded by beauty, courageous men and women, and humble servants.
I am a witness to children who, despite their label are making their mark.
In the cradle of nature I feel more centered and connected than ever.
There is nothing better than a dose of peace into the heart.
To make me appreciate all that I have...which is a lot.
I have more than a man like me deserves. I have:
A wife who just happens to be my best friend,
A 9 year old boy that is my best teacher,
A 6 year old who is the mirror of me,
A 3 year old that is walking joy!!!
A day that began in chains.
Has ended in freedom.
Everything is right.
Life is so good.
So is God.
Sigh.
Adams Camp Day Two: I have had it with being "OK"
Logan Roedel reacts to his Father's latest Adams Camp Blog. Taken right before bedtime.
"Are you Ok?" my wife Jennifer asked me while trying to conceal the fact that she was in fact laughing at me and my situation. Since I always unintentionally do things every day that demonstrate my lack of grace to my wifey, I can easily tell when she is trying to suppress a growing storm of giggles. Her first tell is that her bottom lips becomes very rigid, kind of like one of those ventriloquist dolls. Another easy way to detect that Jennifer is hiding her amusement is she will not look at me. So when I looked over at her this afternoon as we were driving down a dirt road here at Adam's Camp I could determine right away that she has seen and heard what I did not want her to. Apparently my attempt to hid the incident did not really work...
A few moments before there was a tiny lady bug crawling on the inside of the passenger window next to me. While I realize that these polka-dotted creatures carry no venom, stingers, or intent to cause harm I still am not a big fan of them. Even though they may be the most cuddle-worthy of the Buggy Kingdom they are still in fact a bug. Johnny no likely bugs. In fact Johnny declared war on Bugs years ago when he found a spider taking a spa in his glass of milk. If I had not been looking down into the glass before I began to gulp it, Mr. Spidey would have been writing "Some Pig" across my stomach. Since that day I have had a little invisible bubble that I keep around myself and all things creepy crawly. So when I say Miss Ladybug happily marching a mere foot away from my head I had no choice but to act.
Before you get all upset I was not planning on smashing the little thing. I was simply going to evict it from the car...after all I am sure if pressed it would probably admit that being in the car with creatures the size of us was probably a bad move on it's part anyway. I could not let my wife or children know that I was going to do this. Because if they knew that I had a problem with this little red spotted buggy then I would be fodder for merciless heckling. I would have to send Ladybug out without drawing any attention to myself.
Well for those of you who spend any kind of time with me you know then that I am incapable of making it through a day without drawing unwanted attention to myself. As I power slide the window down a crack I waited patiently for the little thing to fly out. When it did not I decided that I needed to give it a little push. With my finger trembling I brought it back into a flick position and I tried to goal kick the Ladybug off the window and into the more habitable woods that were surrounding us. I knew I would only have one shot at this and my finger flick would have to be perfect. I drew back my index finger and cocked it like a pistol. For a moment I caught myself and the Ladybug looking at each other. She blinked at me as if to say "No worries. I am ready. Flick away!" I let my finger go....I felt the friction of it sliding past my thumb and toward pay dirt.
I am uncertain what went wrong. I don't know if what happened was the result of poor aim on my part, or if it was due to the Ladybug having second thoughts, or to basic physics. Somehow in the motion of me trying to flick it out of the car the buggy ended up coming up right into my face. I am not going to lie. I freaked out. I freaked out way too much. Looking back I think if I would have just slowed down and said to myself "Hey dude, it's just a beautiful little Ladybug. It can't hurt anything. It loves you" then things would have worked out better. Instead of having that zen like awareness I opted for taking a different response to the floating bug....
I let out a guttural sound while jerking my body around and kicking both legs straight up into the air. I imagine had I just been bit in the face by a snake from the Amazon my reaction would have been fairly similar. I am not clear on what it was I shouted but eyewitness reports indicate that I screamed "Oh God please no! in a tone that sounded disembodied. You would think my shame would end there....it did not.
Due to all of my convulsing I had but my body in an awkward and vulnerable position. Somehow the unthinkable happened.
The Ladybug ended up in my nose.
Let me be clear. It did not just end up in the front gate of my nostril kingdom. No, it had made it's way down Mainstreet and was attempting to get on Space Mountain. I could feel it's wings banging 'round my sneezers for a brief moment and it sent me into shock. Since I did not handle the bug being within a foot of me with any kind of bravery you can imagine that my reaction to this was pretty strong. While grunting and wrathing about in the seat for a bit I thought perhaps this was it for me. Soon the Ladybug would make its way into my brain and begin feasting. I had to do something...and quick. The problem was I did not know what to do. People tell you what to do when tornado's come, or when there is a fire. But nobody ever tells you what to do when a bug is fluttering inside your nose.
I decided that my only option was to blow. Like the whale who expelled Jonas I had snort out this bug before it was too late.
I had only one chance at this. While my hands dug into the arms of my seat I blew my nose. I blew my nose hard and with great emotion. I blew my nose like my life depended on it. I blew and blew until I started seeing little white spots out of the corner of my eye. My heart raced as I saw the ladybug emerge from my nose and land on my shoe down below. Our eyes met again. This time it looked at me as if to say "You have no idea the things I have seen man. I have seen some stuff I was never meant to see. I am not the same bug as I was before. Please step on me now."
Now that it was clear that I was going to survive this attack the thought occurred to me that my wife and children might have recognized what was going on. I was hoping not....
"Are you Ok?" my wife asked.....
Dang it I was caught....
Am I okay????? Ok???? No...neither me or the Ladybug are Okay with what happened. What does it mean to be ok anyway? Yes I may be ok. But just being "ok" kind of stinks. What in the heck does OK mean???
I have no idea.
We use the word "Ok" all the time. It is the ranch dressing of our vocab. We use it on everything. Our day was "okay". Our meal was "okay". The movie we saw last week was "just Okay". When someone dies we ask the family member how they are holding up and usually they/we answer with "I am doing...ok".
OK has become the polite way of saying that things aren't great. We don't want to burden people with our problems so we label everything as "okay". We need to start to understand that just being okay is not good enough anymore.
Earlier today....long before the Ladybug decided to take a journey up my noogy highway I was in a room of parents. So many of them have stories that would break your heart into a thousand pieces. They have stories of children who are fighting for their lives, their dignity, and their place in this world that demands perfection. These parents have stories of personal loss that is so profound that it literally humbles me to just hear it. I am humbled by their bravery. I can no longer feel sorry for myself when I am witness to the roads that other folks have to take.
I heard one lady talking that she is sick and tired of acting like everything is "just fine..when it is quite the opposite." She felt like screaming to the next person who asked who asked her "How she was doing?" that she was broken, hurt, and mourning the loss of her child who is still right there next to her. That she is angry at the schools, society, and herself for not being able to fix her son. She wanted to be honest for once and not to just tell people that everything is peachy. She wanted to be able to admit to people that she needed help in dealing with her child who will never be able to talk or tell her that he loves her. She was regretting the fact that in her daily life that she has anyone she can be honest with and confide in.
It had me thinking that we are not honest enough with people. We just tell people what they want to hear. Now, I am not saying that we need to unload all of our problems at the stranger at the store. I am saying that we all need to have people in our lives who we can break passed the BS barrier. We can tell them that to "hell with being okay. Things suck. I need help. Please listen to my story. Pray for me. I am not okay...no matter what I say I am not okay"
If you have that person in your life that is great. Rest assured that not everyone has that kind of support.
There have been many times in my life as a parent that I have told people when asked that "I am ok". That has often been a lie and I knew it. And...the person I was telling it to probably knew it was a lie too. I have it with being OK.
So if you have made it through this entry I am going to ask you to be that person for some complete strangers. Pray for a group of parents who are gathering here in the Rocky Mountains who are most certainly not okay. They are hurting...and they need someone to give them a moment of thought. Just close your eyes and ask that these parents realize that through all of their balancing acts, personal guilt, and moments of weakness that they are not alone.
That being said I guess we all have fault lines in our lives. We are one personal earthquake away from being in ruins. Those happen all the time. We all bottom out at one time or another. Just don't medicate those moments by trying to convince yourself or others that you are "okay". Let me repeat being ok sucks. Especially since each of us were designed for greatness. Don't be afraid to shout to your friends and family when you are not ok.. Also, if someone tells you that they are "okay" but everything else about them screams otherwise you should probably ask some follow up questions.
Oh...and never ever snort Ladybugs. They smell funny.....okay?
Adam's Camp Day One : Miracles, Moments, Forest Monsters, and Baggage.
You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime yo
Once again our family finds itself nestled in the heart of the Rocky Mountains. We have begun our yearly visit to Adams Camp. AC is a week long therapy camp for children who are living with various disabilities. This year we happen to be at the week that is designed specifically for children who have been tagged with autism. It seems unbelievable that this is our sixth year here. It seems like only a couple years ago that we took to the leap to come here and give ourselves into the miracle of the week.
Yes, for us this sacred week of Adams Camp is a miracle. I don't like to toss that word around...but it is the only one that can give justice to what this place has meant to us. It is a miracle because it not only has helped forge a new path of hope for our little dude, but it has also drawn us closer as a family. With the cool mountain breeze seeping through the thick forest we are welcomed here the promise that if we just simply open our hearts to the experience that is to come, then we will be changed. Plus anything that can drag my behind to the wilderness every year without much complaint by me is by definition a miracle.
I am not a big fan of the outdoors. I like looking at it through windows....just not a big fan of being stalked by Dingo's, bloodsucking bugs, or Yeti who have a hankerin' for some screaming sissy pie. I wish I could convey to you how much the outdoors and me disagree with one another. Let me try to reach out to each of you in the best way you could understand....
For 80's TV Series Buff - I like the outdoors as much as B.A. Baracus likes flying
For Vampires - I like the outdoors as much as you like garlic.
For the tech geek - I like the outdoors as much as Vista likes being awesome and easy to use.
For fans of Garth Brooks - I like the outdoors as much as you like Chris Gaines.
For Mall cops - I like the outdoors as much as you like the Canadian Mounty hats that you are inexplicably forced to wear.
For people who want the Spice Girls to make another comeback - I like the outdoors as much as you like reality.
For Cyndi Lauper - I like the outdoors as much as you like hearing someone cover one of your songs for the 345,988 time.
For those people who like having dandruff - I like the outdoors as much as you like Head And Shoulders commercials.
For those who are trying to become more healthy - I like the outdoors as much as you like having the fact that you have to live in a word with a product called "Bacon Salt".
For those people on Facebook - I like the outdoors as much as you like taking a quiz that will determine what kind of farm animal you should be.
For those who every had to sit through the movie "Rhinestone Cowboy" - I like the outdoors as much as people enjoy the singing voice of Slyvester Stallone.
For the New Age people - I like the outdoors as much as you like it when you Chakra goes all 2012 and then you have to attract a secret that only Deepak Choprah can transcribe.
For Oprah Winfrey: See the above
For Republicans: I like the outdoors as much as Cheney would like a backrub from Keith Olberman
For Democrats : See the above
For people who dress up like ghosts and monster so that they can scare people away from some property that they want to own - I like the outdoors as much as you like Scooby Doo.
For the Iranian Government - I like the outdoors as much as you like You Tube, Twitter, Fairness, Equality for women and furry bunnies.
For ET - I like the outdoors as much as Elliot's teacher liked you getting him drunk in the middle of science class.
For people who live in Wyoming - I like the outdoors as much as you like being asked "Which State is Wyoming in?"
For Will Ferrell - I like the outdoors as much as you like your agent right about now.
For people who follow sports - I like the outdoors as much as people who play soccer like being told they should have played football instead.
For those who are night owls - I like the outdoors as much as you like warm milk.
For Jon and Kate - I like the outdoors as much as you like making sure your children grow up in a nice, calm, normal, and non-exploitive environment.
For the TLC network - I like the outdoors as much as you like sleeping well at night.
For people who want to become a little smarter every day - I like the outdoors as much as you like reading my blog.
So it seems that I kind of come to Adam's Camp with a diaper half filled of poopiness.
Every year I come to this cabins with the same old baggage, worries, and neurosis. Every year as I drive up I give into the temptation of wondering if this is all worth it. Every year I wonder if some rabid elk will break into my cabin and drag me into the woods. Every year I come here thinking that this year cannot measure up to the year before.
Every year I am proven wrong.
Tonight as I met the wonderful team of people whose hands I will commit my son to for the week I was reminded why we make this journey every year. We come here to witness the very best of people.
I get to witness the amazing men and women who serve disabled children and their families with incredible humility.
I get to witness other parents who face more adversity than I could ever imagine fight for their children with teary eyes and brave hearts.
I get to witness young children who have been forgotten remind us that the light in their heart shines just as bright (usually brighter) than mine.
This year I plan on losing myself into the week. I promise to let go of my baggage. To let my fear of the outdoors be replaced with the awe of God's handiwork. I promise to lose who I think I am...and to become the one person that my children need me to be....daddy.
This year I promise to appreciate each moment this week has to offer. To truly lose myself in each and every moment...each fleeting moment...to let worries pass by like a leaf in the river. For one week I will sedate the chattering monkey who lives in my skull. I will be open to the miracles, the people, and the moments that are coming my families way. Like any good retreat I am leaving my old life at the door...and I hope it is dry cleaned when I go to pick it up at weeks end.
I am typing this on a dark porch under a breathtaking starry sky above me. There are more twinkling lights flickering above me than I think I have ever seen before. Time to stop typing and spend a little time getting lost in the moment that God is providing for me right now.
Goodnight.
EDIT -
ps. After spending thirty minutes of quiet under mountain stars I was having a deeply spiritual experience. I Was connecting to the universe and the vastness of the mysterious space that surrounds us....then I heard the hungry cry/wail/scream/shriek of some sort of mutated animal that just awoke from it's 300 year slumber and is looking for a bite of something small and fatty. I will work on my love of nature more tomorrow......
A Great Full Heart
I just can't help it.
Even though I have been eating a daily bowl of monkey poop stew for the last couple years I am flashing a broken smile between bites.
Because a few years ago I made a decision right here on a blog to remain grateful for everything in my life. No matter what happens to me appreciate every moment as if they were perfectly formed just for me. Well...that attitude has seemingly been challenged by the fates. Over the past couple years I have faced hard times that made me question everything about myself, my beliefs, and my future. I have been enveloped by skin-crawlingly awkward moments that pushed me toward sniffing the closest bottle of white out in order to send me to a make believe world of dancing Bunnies and a rivers of caramel. I have suffered personal, professional, and emotional setbacks that when listed together sound more depressing than teenage poetry. I have survived more experiences of raging raw stress than there are reality shows about former rock stars looking for love. (I believe the number is 300)
For each of those dark and dreary moments of the past couple years I am grateful. Not because I enjoy pain...because I really don't. I am a coward. Ask my wife. She gets to watch me stub my toe at least twice a day. Each time I do I turn it into a very melodramatic ballet of arm flaying, body contorting, and barrel rolls. While I roll around on the floor clutching my foot I let out a scream that has the power to rip open a worm hole between our world and the one that is existing on some other parallel universe. (this is the universe where Tom Cruise and I have swapped lives. Top Gun...staring John Roedel) So no...I don't embrace my suffering because I am some sick pain loving freak. I am grateful for the bad times because it makes the good ones even sweeter.
What are the good times like? The good times are usually small slices of life that can catch us off guard. They are those moments where everything clicks together like lego blocks. It is the experience that all of us have from time to time where it feels like the sun is burning out in space just for us and it's warm rays are being guided to blanket us only. The good moments are often small things that we let slip past us without any recognition on our part. But since I make it a practice to try and embrace each moment (good or bad) I usually am somewhat aware of the good ones.
What are my good moments lately?
-Puppy sighs. Is there anything better than sitting next to a doggie who lets out a sigh of pure and utter content. My pup, Monty does this after a full tummy, and a five minute ear rub down. He just lets out this sigh of a being who is so happy that at any moment may just explode into a ball of fluff. If I were able to relax enough to let out a sigh like he does I think my soul would get confused and start heading out.
-Good music. Especially good new music. I love listening to a new band/artist for the first time that I really connect with. Right now it happens to be The Airborne Toxic Event. Awesome stuff and it is soundtracking my writing right now. A good playlist can calm the sea's of my heart at a moments notice. Without music I would have snapped long ago. I would be living in the park trying to prepare my army of ducks to take over Cheyenne. On the same note is there nothing better than attending an outside concert during the summer. Listening to live music under the stars is the heroin for my spirit.
-Being creative. Comng up with an idea that makes it way onto a piece of paper. Then later watch that idea grow into something tangible, and then watch it as it impacts people in performance. When I die I won't have a legacy of brilliant books, theories, or businesses with my name on it. I will just have a series of moments and memories that I helped create for people. It is in that knowledge that I can sleep at night.
-Dinner with friends. While breaking bread with friends I like to press the pause button on the Tivo in my head and just take in the moment. Good food, good wine, and laughter around an intimate table is where I long to always be. If a killer comet were on it's way to rip through our planet I would want to be nowhere else but in a dinner chair telling old stores with friends with a garlicy breath.
-Watching my children become better than me. Once I drop my ego-driven parent disguise and I just watch my children I am left in wonder of who they are. I have an artist, a actor, a storyteller, a singer, a healer, a warrior, and a pure hearted traveler wrapped up in three little boys. Soon they are going to realize how gifted they are. Once they do...they are going to make their mark. I just get to sit back and watch them shattered the ceiling that people try to put over them. In those moments where I can witness the miracle of each of them is a moment I am happy to be alive. If I do nothing else on Earth I will be lighting the path for them to walk, and I will be their biggest cheerleader. I will do that more often once I get over myself a bit.
-Moments of meditation
-The first snowfall of the year
-Weddings
-Reading Entertainment Weekly
-Watching the old man at StarBucks who is there everyday writing poetry
-Walking around a the same lake everyday.
Oh the list of my good moments I am grateful for can go on longer than a Jonas Brothers song. (which is what I hear they are playing at Gitmo...)
Life is good. Even though most days it is easy to dwell on what is wrong.....doing so holds us back from the small graces that happen all day long. Embrace the good and the bad. Be grateful for both...but hold onto the good. Give it top billing.
What are you grateful for?
3C
A while ago I was about to speak to some teachers to give them a perspective of a parent who is raising a child with a special need. I often don't have trouble coming up with things to say when I am in front of people. While coming up with the talk I began to take notes about how I wanted my time to go. Here was what my outline looked like before I hit a snag at 3C:
1. Someone introduces me.
a) The song "Pour some sugar on me" is played as I come out.
b) Dry ice is released.
c) Long pause as we let dry ice disperse and fire marshal interviews the victims of my light show.
2. My opening remarks
a) Usually a story/example about how despite my ripped ab's I need to be taken seriously as a speaker.
b) If I can tell that nobody is listening to me, I will then show off my ab's to audience to prove the point.
c) Long delay as we allow the EMT's tend to the folks in the front row who were on the front line of my peep show.
d) Make a deal with the audience that if they at least act like they are listening I will promise not to disrobe.
e) *BE CERTAIN THAT FINGERS ARE CROSSED BEHIND BACK WHILE DOING THE ABOVE
3. Then I tell them what I am going to tell them.
a) Regardless of topic I will begin by detailing what my last seven meals have been.
b) Then I read an inspirational quote from The Movie "Billy Madison".
c) After people wipe their eyes from the deep emotion that is flowing in the room I will then start with my main point......which is what?
Yep, I made it about as far as 3C before I realized that I was unsure what exactly I was going to say to a room full of educators.
Then I asked myself what I would want to hear about if I were them. I guess I would just want to know a little more about the parent who is on the other side of the IEP meeting. If I were a teacher I would want to know what I know about parents of special needs children. Here is what I know:
Parents of special needs children are no different than any other parent.
Deep huh? While I am not trying to be as shallow as the depth of writing talent that exists on SNL these days I think that this simple message is the best one for people to hear. Before I became a papa of a little boy who lived in the autism spectrum I had a preconceived notion of what parents of special needs children were like. I thought that they must all be strong people, who took no crap, and carried a chip the size of a comet on their shoulder. I figured that these parents would have to possess these personality traits to be able to survive the daily battle with the world as they advocate for their child. Well...eventually I found out that my type casting of these folks was pretty wrong. I found that out when I became one of these folks...and I frankly have none of those characterstics.
Through our families travels I have met plenty of parents who are raising children with various forms of disabilities. They are no different than the ones who are raising "typical" youngsters. These parents carry with them the hopes for their special little ones. They ache when their child is hurt. They cry when their child does something amazing. They have just as much pride as any other parent does for their child. Parents of special needs children come in many different forms. There are the ones who are Type A personalities, and there are those who are Type B. There are also some parents like me who are Type W. (the W stands for either Weird or aWesome)
I ended up telling these educators that as they should never give up on the special child they go to bat for daily, they should never give up on their parents either. My wife and I have been extremely fortunate to work with a team of people who serve my son with such humility. We could not be more happy with the people who help guide our little guy through the autism maze. I know that our situation is not always the same as other people who struggle sometimes to get the services their child needs. I also realize that many times the parents and the teachers have serious conflict issues with one another. That makes me very sad. I have found that sometimes ego (whether it is coming from the educator, parent, or both) can get in the way in doing what is needed. As a parent of autistic child I have to realize that I am sometimes too close to the situation to know what is objectively best for my guy. I would also argue that sometimes teachers have to realize that sometimes their need for "doing things by the book" can lead to missed opportunities to reach a special child.
As a son of a school teacher I have a great deal of respect for what they do on a daily basis. The vocation to be a teacher is one that needs to be exalted more than it is. Are there some bad teachers out there? Yes, of course there are. I just have not met one yet.
After I figured out what 3C was going to be I went on and finished my outline.
4. My interpretive dance of the birthing Moose.
a) Start the dance.
b) Wake up from pepper spray.
c) Thank everyone for coming.
d) Plug blog.
e) Respectfully ask that they refrain from pressing charges.
f) Exit to music from Rent.
I wonder if they will ask me back? I am sure they will....I mean why wouldn't they? Unless of course they don't like the music of Def Leppard.
Getting back into the swing of things.
So it is either watching another episode of "Dog The Bounty Hunter" or trying to blog....
I think there should be a reality show where I try and hunt down hardened criminals. It could be called "Wee Justice". I have sent my idea to the networks. My fingers are crossed...although I don't know what I am worried about. If Fox can get away with airing some of their crud then they should be taking a chance on filming me taking down some 6'4 Hell's Angel named "Blade" who is skipping bail.
Of course there would probably only be one episode of "Wee Justice". That series would then be followed by the hit reality medical drama called "The coma of John Roedel". Which would lose ratings every week due to people figuring out that the show would just be about me lying in a hospital bed recovering from the beating I got from Blade. Eventually "Wee Justice" would be canceled and replaced with some other reality show called "Eating soft food from a spoon".
Since I have made it this far into the entry it looks like I have chosen blogging over watching The Dog dish out his painfully scripted wisdom to the bloodied perp he just form tackled on the street of a Wal-Mart.
I would argue that watching bad cable television is far better than watching the news....or MTV. Both are filled with desperate people fighting over who gets to say the sound bite.
After my writers block blog entry last night I got a few emails from people wondering what has been going on in my slice of life.
Aside from blog avoidance here are some of the adventures have I been up to lately:
-Helping a little boy recover after breaking his arm for a second time in the past four months. Noah has been such a trooper...I on the other hand have needed extensive therapy from a Hopi Shaman who is helping me Sweat Lodge the memory away of my little guy holding his twisted arm sobbing the mantra of "not again". On the plus side if he breaks his arm again I think it is free. Just kidding....actually if he breaks his arm again I will probably be lynched by both of his Grandmothers. I am noth talking about a "crusty look lynching" where both Grams stare at me with enough ill intent to kill a horse. I am talking the full lynching. The kind of lynching where I wake up in the back of my mother's trunk on my way to an undisclosed grave site....that my restless spirit will just call "home".
Just in case any of you have forgotten....broken bones suck. Super suck. Don't let children get them. Especially right before summer. And...if I turn up missing look for two elderly women arguing at a remote gas station about how much duct tape it takes to immobilize a 35 year old man who took a blow to the back of his head with an oxygen tank.
- Ozymandian Theater has been another lump of sugar in my coffee lately. It remains as far as we can tell Wyoming's only original sketch and comedy company. We just got done with our latest show which turned out to be the most taxing one I have ever been through. As always we had a great time working together...until show week...because that is when the Ozy party ends and we start actually working. The shows went great. (each show was great in it's own way) We are starting to really hit our stride as a group. I credit the fact that none of us really have an ego. We just all do what is in the best interest of trying to put on a unique experience for our crowd. People were really gerneous in helping us put this show on. I would like to think that people were helping because they were drawn to my rugged looks. It turns out that people helped out despite my looks. It just so happens that those people are just good....
- Writing. Yes even though I have been unable to produce a blog entry lately I have actually been writing. Some of it is just for me...some of it is for a playwriting class I am trying to get into. I have also done some autism advocacy writing over the last few weeks. I feel very very very very very sorry for those who edit anything I send them. Me thinks that if me wantz too keepe writtening thean me needs too startt learnening grammammaar and punctutation. Me likey writetng.
-Getting geared up for another summer of "No Shame". I am a small cog in the wheel of an acoustic band. We are going in a new direction this summer so it has been pretty exciting. By new direction I mean that I am going to be getting rid of most of the same songs I have been singing in "No Shame" since 1995. My material was about as fresh as Loaf N Jug milk. My music tastes and the things that I was singing never really matched up before....I think that is starting to change. Which is great news to me...and not so good for the people who come and want me to sing some old Blues Travelers. I am also trying to learn to play the mandolin. Please pray for my family. What I am putting them through is the audible version of water boarding.
-Seeing movies. I see just about every summer release. It is one of my 3443 vices that my wife is forced to put up with. I have estimated that I have consumed a large garbage bad full of movie popcorn so far. I am not sure that is very healthy. Just yesterday my nose was running butter. I know...tasty.....right?
With all this going on I wonder how I am going to fit in my daily walk.
Ahhhh....I think that maybe blogging is become easier again.
Watch out! Once I get back into the swing of things I will be pitching really incredible blog topics your way. Not that this one wasn't without any merit. You did get to picture me hunting down dangerous criminals and handling out my "Wee Justice". Once this project gets green light I am going to get a tattoo on my chest that reads "The Short Arm Of The Law".
Blogged out.
John is having a time out.
Nope...that first line stunk. Let me try again.
I think that if Sharon Stone was not so crazy we could be really good friends.
Hmmm....
If I were any cooler I would be served with Jello.
Yikes. That one was worse.
Now I will tell you why I will never hunt the mysterious Yeti ever again!
No No No!
People often confuse me for a dude who has no ambition. Well, they could not be more wrong. The problem with me is that I am just plain lazy.
No. That is not a good opener. How about this....
15 years ago I ate half of a tumbleweed. It was terrible on it's own....but served with beer it became Manna.
I don't think anyone wants to hear about that...
Huh......hmmmm.....
The first sentence of a blog is always the most difficult. If you don't catch the reader's interest from the begining then it is hard to get it back. So let me try this one:
I have been very quiet lately.
It has been a while since my plumpo fingers have danced on my keyboard. I have given myself and my blog a time out.
My excuse for my bloggy absence is simple. I have nothing really to say that would make any sense. (which I guess is really no different then it usually is)
That is not to say nothing of any interest has been happening to me....because I can assure you that is not the case.
Life in Roedel-ville has been a mix tape full of crazy, fun, scary, exciting, and gut wrenching moments. My days have been packed with obstacles that are trying to keep me from remembering that every moment of life is to be embraced. I, like so many other people get sucked into the daily grind....and then that grind forces me to miss the thousands of daily graces that are trying to get my attention like some snuggle-starved Cocker Spaniel puppy.
While the past four weeks have been very full of blog-worthy moments I have found it difficult to find the right words to express my recent experiences. It seems like I am at a loss of words. I have started about 500 blog entries over the past month and a half in hopes that I could continue to tell my small little journey. After all the only thing I am really very good at is telling stories...so this lack of activity has been a cause of concern for me and my wailing ego.
Each time I have attempted to start a blog entry I freeze after a moment or two. I try to write the opening line and then I stop. Why? It seems like I feel more comfortable these days being silent. Often times I blog to help myself process through a moment of my life. It is like some sort of self therapy. But these days I have not found the correct combination of words that would help express the state of my union.
Until I can solve the riddle of my slumbering tongue I will just try and be quiet and listen to what the world is trying to tell me. It is not the first time I have been told to by God to shut up. Instead of focing myself to push the rock up the hill I am going to just sit on it here in the valley and listen to the wind a bit.
Usually when I sit down to type out one of these entries I find it easy to spit out what trivial thoughts that I have that are ping round my skull. That is not the case right now. Even typing this short entry has been laborous and disjointed. (I have taken several breaks...and about 67,000 deep sighs to get this far) I can take a hint. I will stop flapping my yappers and go back to my time out for a bit. Maybe when I get back I will have an amazing blog that will change the way you look at life. Probably not. I am certain that my next topic will have something to do with why I think that movies that feature talking babies are scarier than anything that Stephen King could come up with.
Now it is time for an amazing final line that will reaffirm to people why they read my blog. Umm.....oh here it is:
Er.
Ug.
Nope...nothing coming.
Oh...how about I leave you with a song that will best describe what I am feeling as I go back into my moment of silence.
