Selective Mutism

The past few weeks have been intense. And by that I mean I am exhausted. And I haven't worn eye makeup for like two weeks because I knew at some point in the day it would be cried off. But this post is not about me, nor should I be the focus here even thought I will surely talk about how I feel.

I've thought about sitting down to write this a bajillion times. Maybe closer to a bazillion - I'm not sure which number is greater, or frankly if either number really exists. The point is, I've thought and prayed about this very carefully and after the week we've had this week, I'm certain this is something I need to do. I know there will be those that will wonder why I'd want to "put it all out there". The truth is that I'm not. The truth is that I'm sharing just the part I need to share in order to help my daughter. The truth is that God has been pressing on me a little more each day that I need to stop acting like I'm Wonder Woman. I mean, let's face it, she's really awesome and if I could choose which super hero I'd be, it would totally be her, but I'm still just me - human, sinful, broken, in need of community, and desperately trying to help my daughter.

If you've spent any time with Ambrie, you probably think of her as shy. She's not. She's very active, super creative, a bit of a tomboy, funny, and VERY smart (her teachers all tell me so, so it must be true). She loves to sing and dance, she loves to tell jokes that make no sense, she is REALLY good at basketball (again, her coach's words, not mine, so it's true!), and she dreams of being a police officer when she grows up. She has tons of friends at school that she has no problem talking to. No, Ambrie is not shy. She has what's called Selective Mutism. This means there are certain situations where she can talk and feel comfortable and be herself, but there are other situations when she just can't make herself talk. This is coupled with social anxiety & separation anxiety, two things that are hard enough to deal with on their own. Selective Mutism affects about 2% of the population, is diagnosed around age 5 (Ambrie is nearing 6) and is more likely to affect girls than boys. There are tons of articles on what Selective Mutism is, but it's important to know it affects each child differently. It's also important to know that Ambrie is not likely to overcome this without help from our community - our friends and family who interact with her the most. This is why I've decided to write this blog post.

I don't really want to get into the specifics of how this happened in this post, but know that I am happy to talk about this in person. I also want everyone to know one thing, and let me say this very clearly. Her silence has nothing to do with you. It should not be taken personally. THE hardest thing for Frank and me has been to watch as people withdraw from a relationship with her and with us because she won't talk and she's perceived as defiant. The other hard thing has been learning how to stop rescuing her so she can learn how to communicate on her own. And that's why I'm writing this post. If you are an adult in Ambrie's life, I need you to talk to her. I need you to get down on her level, in her face, tell her how brave you think she is, tell her you'd love for her to talk to you, and then sit there with her for a minute while she tries to do just that. Don't rescue her. Don't tell her it's okay for her to not talk. Just love her. She's a totally cool girl and I'm not just saying that cuz I'm her mama.

Over the course of the next few months we will be meeting with several people to help Ambrie. Her teacher this year is great and I have already met with her several times. As I was writing this blog post, I got the email I've been waiting to get since school started three weeks ago. AMBRIE SAID HER LETTERS TO HER TEACHER. This is a HUGE deal. Not one time last year did Ambrie speak directly to any teacher. I asked for prayer this morning on Facebook over this very matter, and look at what happened! After three weeks of her teacher, Frank, and me pursuing her, she came through. You can help her to continue in her success.

Thank you for reading this. Thank you for loving our family. Thank you for allowing me to ask you for help. We are blessed with some pretty amazing people in our life.

The Story of Bruiser

This one goes out to anyone who has ever loved and lost a pet.

On May 23, 2016 at about 1:10 p.m. a little piece of my heart died. His name was Bruiser, and he was our fur baby. He was part of our family for 11 years and we loved him fiercely.

My heart is sad, but it's also full of joy. Bruiser was and is simply the best dog I've ever known. He greeted every single person that walked through our door with a Boo-howl and happy tail wag. He was curious, smart, snuggly, friendly, and ALWAYS hungry. By the way he ate you would think he was 600lbs. Nope, he was a whopping 6. He made the hard times easier and the happy times happier. To know him was to love him. I am so blessed I got to be his human mom.

I very clearly remember the day we brought him home. The minute I walked into the breeder's house Bruiser ran up to me and sat on my shoe. There were other puppies there who ignored me and other people with me (Frank and my parents) who Bruiser ignored. He knew I was his mama.

Puppy Bruiser with our nephew Gavin

Bruiser got into his fair share of mischief. There was the time he chased a skunk through our yard and got sprayed in the face. He constantly begged for food, loved to chase bugs, followed me around the house, squeezed his way onto the laps of many friends, and never met a pair of feet he didn't want to lick. He was also brave and fiercely protective. We knew who we could trust based on Bruiser's instincts. He was sensitive and loving. He seemed to sense when we needed him to be still, silent, and snuggly. He also loved to play tug of war and chase after his toys.

This little dog was there for us and his love was unconditional. When we went through a very dark time in our life, he was there. Always ready to snuggle, always ready to lick the tears away. We constantly felt his love.

It was hard for us to watch him age and slow down. When we noticed his eyes clouding up about a year and a half ago we knew life would be different for him. While not fully blind, he had a harder time getting around and lost interest in almost everything except food and snuggling. He also still loved to be outside and bathe in the sun, which was exactly how he spent his last days on this earth.

I truly believe God specifically sent specifically Bruiser into our life to be our dog. It was almost as though he was an angel sent to watch over us. I also believe that this was simply his time to go, and I see God's hand in all of this. We were blessed by neighbors who called us and sat with him after he fell. We were blessed in that the way Bruiser was injured wasn't causing him any pain. We were blessed that my whole family got to hold him and say goodbye. We were blessed to have one final night with him. We were blessed by an incredibly empathetic doctor who told us how much she loved Bruiser and even teared up after telling us he was gone. We were blessed that Frank and I could be with him in his final moment and that he went completely peacefully. The very last thing he did was lick my arm, a signature Bruiser trait. And how fitting was that... I was the first and last person he clung to in our family. 

Yes, we are very sad, but also happy that we loved a little dog who made a huge impression on our hearts. We are happy for the many wonderful memories we made with him. I don't know if dogs go to Heaven, but if they do, Bruiser is up there right now howling, running, eating peanut butter, and licking some stinky feet. We love you, Boo-man. Thank you for taking care of us.

Bruiser LOVED to swim and sun bathe

He also loved to snuggle

They loved each other

Christmas 2015 - so much sweetness in one photo

The Krywickis
You will forever be part of our family, Boo