"Water, Water, Everywhere, and Not a Drop to Drink!"

Last night around 7:45, Neil and I were upstairs overseeing Judah's bath time (that can take two people and about eight bath sheets), and Noah was downstairs playing on the laptop. Neil figured he would go downstairs and check on Noah to make sure he was doing OK. I was leisurely getting ready for bed, throwing on a big comfy shirt and stripping down to my underwear to watch Judah from underneath my snuggie-soft down throw on our bed. Judah had just jumped out of the tub when I heard a frantic plea from the floor below, "Babe! I need your help! Hurry! Quick!" Throwing on a pair of sweats, I raced passed Judah who was making his way down the stairs soaking wet and stark naked.

The first scene I saw was Noah still playing on the laptop as calm as could be. "Couldn't be too bad", I thought. "No one seems wounded, although Neil doesn't usually sound that panicky..." Then I saw the scene of mayhem. It would have been a little more comical had not the weight of the situation hit me in the stomach like a cement cylinder block hurling from a seven story building. While Judah was streaking in front of an open patio door, I saw Neil feverishly bailing water from a sewage geyser springing from the commode in the powder room. I saw at least a two inch puddle soaking into the carpet between the powder room and kitchen. Let me tell you, seeing an actual puddle of sewage on white carpet will do something to your stomach...something having to do with a cylinder block and a seven story building.

Anyway, all my thoughts went out the door along with Judah as I assessed the situation, which took all of two seconds, to see where I could jump in. Then I realized Judah had left the building. Retrieving the little unclothed urchin from his favourite habitat and locking the door behind me, I quickly began running the Bissell vacuum, sucking up as much water as it would take. Neil had already turned off the water to the toilet. It was still gushing sewage and it was all Neil could do to keep up with the overflow. After several times of sucking and emptying water and sewer, I realized Judah was still enjoying life in the buff. I quickly dressed him, and got on the phone with the home owners insurance company.

"Well, ma'am, usually at this point in the evening, we would tell you that we will have someone out tomorrow to assess the situation."

"Excuse me", I queried. "I don't think you understand. My husband is bailing buckets of water and sewage from the toilet to our back yard, and he is barely able to keep up. The water has been turned of and IT'S NOT STOPPING! To clarify, are you telling me that we should just continue bailing until someone finds our house some time tomorrow?"

"I see your point, ma'am, and I am very sorry to hear about your situation." I wondered if their have to take an "empathy class" to get this job. She sounded like she was reading a script. Then she continued, "I will dispatch someone out to your house tonight, ma'am."

"Thank you", I said, "about how long do you think it will take before someone is able to get to us?"

"I will call dispatch, and if you don't hear from us within the next 1 - 2 hours, call us back." Click.

"Hey, that's great," I thought, "Thanks."

Next, I called the plumbing company directly. Forget the insurance company. I got on the phone again, and called the plumbing company directly. I was pleased that I didn't have to go through the 10 minute ordeal of what language to use or any other "all-about-me" questions. An operator immediately picked up on the other end. Yes, they could help us. It would cost $120 to send someone out to just assess the problem, but we were desperate. How long? Ahh, yes. "We might be able to have someone out there in an hour, but I can't guarantee it."

"No, of course not", I mused. We hung up.

My phone rang, and it was the first gentleman I called right before the insurance company and with whom I had left a message. He is self-employed, does a great job, and is very fairly priced. Michael Martinez. He lives on the "very south side of Austin", as he describes it. I answered my phone and explained the situation. Michael was out to our house in 45 minutes. I cancelled the other two dispatches. Michael worked for two hours snakeing our PVC pipe from outside, pulling up tons of mud. Not good. It was obviously a cracked pipe. Rats.

On the upside, Neil took a vacation day, which he needed, anyway. I get to sit here at home with my sweetie, waiting for our service request that our landlord called in to be met. Sigh. It's not so bad, really. CVS and Wag-a-Bag are just around the corner, and the boys can wear pull-ups today. Our house is beginning to smell like sewer, but there is always air freshener. Go, Glade and Febreeze!

Because the ground is so dry, one of the main water lines from Stillwater Lake broke, so our area, along with a few other local communities, are prohibited from turning water on outside. Police are even patrolling and fining people up to $2000 for running any water outside. I came to the conclusion a while back, but this turn of events just confirmed my thoughts. Water bills are a luxury...not the ones from water damage, but the regular ones that come every month letting you know that you have the ability to turn on the sink or use the toilet. :-)

Today I went upstairs to set Noah up with his music, and I found him with my black camera. He had erased the pictures I had taken (fortunately, there weren't too terribly many). He knew right away that I was upset. I raised my voice and said, "Noah!" Immediately, he began crying and sat down on our bed. Through his tears he said, "I'm sorry". Instantly, my heart melted and right away I felt badly for yelling his name. I sat down and cuddled him and accepted his apology and told him I forgave him. I apologized to him for yelling his name. Then I reassured him that although I like my pictures, I love him much more and that he is much more important to me than the pictures on my camera.

We snuggled for awhile, and I kissed him all over his little red, tear stained face. This was a huge moment for both of us, a break through moment for so many reasons. Both of my sons have never really responded appropriately to emotions before, especially Noah.

This is very common for someone who has autism. They don't understand emotional cues from other people. Noah could see another child crying and he, many times, would laugh. He doesn't laugh to be mean or spiteful; he just hasn't been able to switch gears from playing. He hasn't been able to understand or identify when someone is sad, angry or happy.

Most kids would say to a parent, "Why is that boy crying?" When a person cries, that is the child's cue that there is "unhappiness". Also, usually, a child can express whether she is happy, sad, or angry. My boys have not been able to do this either. I have NEVER seen Noah grasp this concept...until today.

I rarely yell at my sons. What's point? The only thing that changes is the volume of my voice, and let's face it, to any child that could be entertaining all on it's own! Usually when I am angry or upset, my voice get lower, softer, and more stern in tone. I have to admit, sometimes you can hear the frustration in my voice, too! This time I reacted instead of responding, and I raised my voice.

This time, for the first time, Noah responded appropriately to my tone with crying. HUGE for him! To boot, he even sat down on the bed instead of continuing to think we were engaging in play, and he said (WITHOUT BEING PROMPTED!), "I'm sorry". It takes a LOT if understanding to read emotional cues, put the cues together with the words, and translate the communication. It takes a LOT to know the appropriate response, find the words, and then respond with feeling.

Today I saw my son who never used to cry (except when touched or when his "safety routine" was interrupted), who never use to respond to his name, react, whatsoever, to stimulus in his environment...today I saw him FULLY engage life with understanding.

My heart was moved from hardened frustration to melting hot tears. My little 8 year old boy and I just had a conversation that hit all levels: verbally (both receptively and expressively), emotionally (identifying and responding), and relationally (apologizing and accepting forgiveness from each other) as we snuggled basking in each other's love.

I wonder how often it takes me to respond appropriately to God's correction. Do I laugh and continue playing? Am I insensitive to His tone? Do I understand the gravity of the situation? Do I react impulsively or do I respond thoughtfully with the truth of His Word in my heart?