Swimming less than an hour after eating? Risky! Running with scissors? No way! Riding a bike with no hands? Scary! Buying a house in Pennsylvania when your wife has never in her life set foot in the state? Now THAT is living dangerously! And that’s what I did last month. Quite the roll of the dice, because we absolutely aren’t going to move for at least a decade.

I haven’t blogged much over the past few months (and real quick, if you don’t know why I blog sometimes, click HERE to see what Operation Jack is), but here’s a quick recap of the worst-year-ever that’s been our life for the past 12 months or so:

• From about September of last year through February, we struggled (read: failed) to get our son Jack in school. He’s severely autistic and needs to be pushed to improve his chances at having any kind of quality of life when he’s an adult. We went through lawyers and all that jazz, lost time and sleep and money while watching our son regress, and gained nothing.
• Less than a year after relocating from California to Colorado, me and my wife Tiffany decided this February (in a matter of a few hours) that we would relocate to Pennsylvania, site unseen, because it would present the best overall opportunity for the entire family.
• Within a day after making that decision, I found an ad for a job that I would end up getting. On March 15, I left my family behind in Colorado because I started work here in the Philadelphia area on March 18.
• On May 25, two days after the school year ended for our other two children, my wife and kids left Colorado to head to California to live with her parents and wait for me to find a place for us to live.

I’ve been away from them for 3 1/2 months, which justifiably doesn’t get me a whole lot of sympathy from military families, but it’s been difficult. We sold the house we owned in California and had a budget out here to shop with. Tiff looked online at every house that came up and it seemed like there was an issue with every listing. We had very specific needs with the house. We needed it to have a setup that would work that would give Jack play space in a safe spot of the house, plus because Jack elopes (he’s a threat to run away) and is a danger to himself, we couldn’t be too close to a house with a pool (he can’t swim) or on too busy of a street. Plus, we needed to be within a zone for one elementary school and could only afford about half the listings that came up.

So I drove by house after house after house and it seemed like nothing worked. We were getting anxious because the family needs to be out here before the start of the school year and you can’t find a house and move into it the next week. So I kept driving through neighborhoods, I went to some open houses and had our realtor take me through a few. Nothing seemed like it would work and the houses that were decent family houses were selling pretty quickly.

We had to time her trips out here well in advance and we had no idea what would be available for sale for her to see. We knew there was chance I might have to buy something without her seeing it first. She was coming the weekend of June 8, but a house that seemed like it would work well hit the market May 30. This was about the fourth time she found the house, but when I walked through it the first time (while she was in California), I thought it was great. She saw it through a video chat on her phone and loved it. I tried to tell her every negative thing about that house that I could to talk her out of it. I was very nervous about buying a house in Pennsylvania before she had ever even been to the state, but we didn’t have the luxury of waiting a week for her to get out. I was pretty sure this house was everything we wanted and I didn’t want to risk somebody else buying it.

I figured that if every single negative thing I could bring to the surface didn’t scare her away, it would be the right house. I couldn’t talk her out of it, so I had a pretty good feeling about it. But still!

We bought it and started escrow and a week later she came out on a pre-planned trip and finally saw her new hometown and new home. I was pretty nervous about her reaction. I wouldn’t buy a car without her driving it. But this was a house, something that will — like it or not — be the family home until we’re in our 50s. This isn’t like a pair of shoes that you can return to the store as long as you hang on to your receipt.

We were able to go see the house Tiff walked in and was basically giddy. She LOVED it. It was what she thought it was and she was pretty happy. I just trailed behind her and let her explore, because I had already seen it.

She stepped into the kitchen, looked out the window into the backyard and stopped dead in her tracks. Then she broke down crying with a pretty heavy set of tears. I wasn’t sure what to make of it but my heart stopped while I waited for feedback.

“I am sooooo happy right now. I feel an overwhelming sense of peace. I haven’t felt this way in years.”

I’ll be honest … I had to work pretty hard not to start crying myself. She’s had an extremely tough year with what we’ve gone through. She hasn’t had any happiness. As her husband, I feel like it’s my job to make sure she has a good life and her life for the prior year has been anything but good. Finally, she has something to look forward to. And to be clear, it’s not just the house. It’s way beyond the house. It’s what’s in store for Jack and the rest of our family here in Pennsylvania. The house is where home is going to be for a long, long time and she feels very comfortable at home.

We’ve been pretty miserable as a family for more than a year now, but finally, we can see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. July 11 we close the deal. July 13 me and my two best friends are working with movers and getting things set up. July 14 at 7:05 p.m., my four favorite people in the world are landing in Philly. We’re about to get our life back. We’re about to turn Jack back in the right direction. For the first time in four months, we’ll be living together as a family again.

So grateful for that. And so grateful I didn’t screw up when I bought a house that my wife hadn’t seen![subscribe2]

 

 

Finally, I feel like I can break my silence. If you’re with me on Facebook, this is no surprise to you, but if you’re only with me on Twitter or here, I’m hoping I did a good enough job keep this close to the vest.

This past weekend, I finally got my family out of Colorado. I haven’t hidden the fact that I’m in Philly now — we decided to relocate because we had no school to bring our autistic son Jack to in Colorado — but I’m out there without the family and I’ve been there for 10 weeks.

When we decided we were moving to Philly, I started looking for a job and had one in three weeks. I had to leave. My wife Tiffany stayed back in our house with the kids so that our two who are actually in school could finish out the school year, but that was the only reason they stayed. School was out last Thursday, I flew out Friday night, the movers came Saturday morning and before that truck was finished loaded, Tiff and the kids were up in the air, on a plane to California.

These past 10 weeks have been about the toughest 10 weeks my life. I have a fairly decent lockdown on my Facebook and was vocal about it there, but I was very concerned for their safety so I didn’t mention them being alone (or even in Colorado) on Twitter and I blogged very, very sparingly.

Jack has really struggled for the past three months. We’re still narrowing things down, but we think he has ulcers that were severely agitated by antibiotics he had for an infected gash on his heel. His behaviors were the worst we’ve ever seen. He was injuring himself, injuring my wife, injuring his siblings … he didn’t intend to hurt anybody, but he has no good way of expressing the pain he feels so he turned to hitting and punching. We finally righted that ship a week ago and he started to do much better.

I talked to Tiff frequently, via phone and text and Facebook and FaceTime and every other imaginable way to communicate. I felt so horrible for the struggles she was going through. She packed up a four-bedroom house on her own for the most part and was dealing with Jack’s serious issues. I knew I had to do what I had to do in Philly, but I still felt pretty guilty for not being in Colorado with her helping.

I flew back twice to help get ready for the move and spend time with the kids, but that takes money and to say we have finite resources is an understatement. My brother was a huge help and went out to help for about three weekends. I learned very quickly that about the only thing tougher than not seeing your kids is seeing them on FaceTime. That’s when you realize what you’re missing.

Tiff was in complete misery and it was heartbreaking to me. I love that woman more than I can convey in writing and it’s my goal in life to provide her with a good life. She was living her own personal hell and it was killing me. I just tried to keep her focusing on getting out of Colorado and down to California, where her and the kids will stay (with family). I counted down the days for her by posting silly number images every day on Facebook for her. I knew that once she got down there, she’d have help and friends and a little bit of personal time here and there. Her life will be better in Pennsylvania than California, but it will still be significantly better in California than it was in Colorado. I tried to keep her looking forward to that.

I missed a lot of things being gone — violin concerts, soccer games, helping with math homework … you name it, I missed it. I think what’s even tougher than missing things is that I’m around two great kids every day. I’m staying with one of my two best friends and his family in Philly. He has two adorable boys who run over and cling to my leg while emphatically screaming “Uncle Sam is home!” when I get home from work. It’s nice to not be lonely. But then there are times when I see them and I think, “these aren’t my kids … I want to be with MY kids!” I went to a school play for one of the kids and it was fun. But it was so depressing knowing that my own kids were so far away, having their school plays that I was missing. I have fun asking them how their day was at dinner time. But I’d rather ask Ben and Ava.

Oh, and I missed being with Tiff on our wedding anniversary last Thursday. 14 years married now, and in a way it was fitting that we weren’t together this year.

Needless to say, I can’t wait until they get out to Philly. My family is nothing but chaos and commotion. But that’s my chaos and commotion and I miss it. I live for it. I die without it. We’re going to buy a house. Finally, now that the kids are out of Colorado, Tiff can come out and we can find something. And hopefully we can have a crazy-quick escrow when we do.

Until then, I’ll be stuck in this lonely transition. I’m glad Tiff’s life is better now, and of course, the same goes for the kids. They got down to California on Saturday afternoon and she told me that Sunday was one of the best days her and Jack have had in a long, long, time. I knew it wouldn’t take long!

As I always tell Tiff, I’m the hunter, and I’m getting us what we need. I can finally rest knowing she’s in a safe nest now. Better days are coming. I can’t wait.

I haven’t blogged in a while. Probably been over a month. Haven’t been too active on Facebook or Twitter, either. I guess it’s safe to say I’ve been a little preoccupied. If you haven’t been here before, there’s a couple of things I should outline first:

1. I’m a father of three and my middle child, 9-year-old Jack, is severely autistic. He’s the “Jack” in Operation Jack. I’ve done a lot of charity stuff in his name to fight autism. That’s the only reason I’m public about anything — I’m trying to make some good out of what he goes through. Click here to see how the Operation Jack Autism Foundation and the Operation Jack Marathon have brought in about $180,000 in the past three or so years.

2. We’ve been in a VERY long fight to try to get Jack into school. He’s been out this entire year. Here’s some backstory. It’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever been a part of and quite frankly, it’s sad to know how dirty some people in this world are. In a nutshell, we didn’t like the poor education he was receiving. We hoped the Boulder Valley School District could offer something better than what he was receiving at one of their schools he was attending and they sold us on some allegedly great autism program at a different school they had. Well not only was that program not any better for Jack than the program he was coming from — it was at an unsafe school. The playground he would have been on was 86 feet from a parking lot and UNFENCED! Jack elopes, which means he runs away when he gets a chance. The math of it is that he was less than a two-second lapse in supervision away from a potentially fatal incident at any given moment. So, he’s been out of school this entire school year. [Read more…]

As I mentioned here the last time I posted, we had mediation with the school district last Thursday. I had to sign a paper that I wouldn’t talk about what went on inside that room. So, I guess I’ll talk a little bit about where Jack stands on getting back into school.

Super brief background in case you’ve never been here before (and in that case, see what I’m all about), our 9-year-old, low-functioning autistic son Jack is assigned to a school six miles down the street from our house that is too dangerous for him. The playground is unfenced and 86 feet away from a parking lot. He has a well-documented history of eloping (running away without reason or notice), and a two-second lapse in supervision is about all it would take for him to potentially be involved in a fatal incident. So, we’re not sending him. Call us good parents — we’re not going to put our son’s life on the line just because a few people are confident nothing’s gonna happen.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about it won’t happen to you, it’s that it will happen to you. It’s happened time and time again throughout my life. The autism thing did happen to my Jack and there’s no way I’m going to put him at risk of death happening, too. It can happen and that’s not something you take chances with. There’s a school less than a mile down the street from our house that’s fenced and safe. He attended there last year, and his sister goes there now, but the district refuses to allow him to attend.

I still don’t have a truthful, on-the-record answer as to why Jack isn’t allowed to attend his home school. It seems like it’s probably because a teacher is mad at my wife, although we’ve unsuccessfully tried to get an honest answer for more than three months now. They say it’s because we don’t want him to go there, but that’s obviously not true, because we’ve asked for him to be able to go there since September. We think the real reason is because Tiff voiced her displeasure (in an appropriate manner and forum) when eight of his 15 IEP goals were removed without our consent, including his behavior goal. We suspect that’s what caused this issue to start and then escalate, although that’s just a guess based on the runaround we’ve been through.

Tiff’s life has been destroyed — she’s a slave 24-7 to Jack, she’s had to cancel doctors appointments and surgeries … she says she feels like a prisoner. Even more than what it’s doing to her, it kills her to think about how our son — who has already been robbed of any sort of a normal life — is now being robbed of an education, too. This is a nightmare worse than anything I could have ever imagined. And when I look back and think, “What did we do wrong to get ourselves in this situation?” The answer is nothing. There’s nothing wrong with appropriately speaking up for your child during the educational process.

And way beyond that, Jack REALLY did nothing wrong. He’s as innocent as they come. But he’s the true loser in all of this. He’s just collateral damage. The people involved say they want him in school, but their actions say he’s a throwaway retard who’s a pawn in the retaliation game against Tiff. I imagine there are people smiling because they’re getting their way, but they should be ashamed of who they’re really beating up on — a 9-year-old autistic child in desperate need of an education.

I went to a workshop talking about mediation and due process last week and from what I learned, I don’t think it matters how wrong the district is. They can tell us no, no, no until the cows come home. Unless we hire a lawyer and go through due process (basically court) and hire expert witnesses, we’re at their mercy. Even if we were to win at due process, they could just appeal. We don’t have resources (I’d imagine it would cost well over $10K) to access the system, so we’re out of luck, and I would imagine that’s part of the district’s strategy.

I think we have a very difficult challenge getting him in school before the start of the 2014-15 school year, but I keep my faith that somehow, someway, things will get better.

We’ll continue to fight and do whatever we can to figure out new ways to make that happen. There’s a chance I might send out an email or two somewhere down the road and ask for ideas or maybe help sending an email or two. I set something up called Jack’s Army. CLICK HERE to join — it’s super simple. Super, super simple. PLEASE join if you haven’t already. And please forward this on via your Facebook and Twitter!

In the meantime, while we keep fighting, Tiff is working with Jack at home and doing her best. Here’s a video from yesterday:

Here’s some of his writing:

I’ll post more updates when I have them. I hope to have them soon. We’re not going to give up fighting to get him in school.

Have a great Wednesday. Keep praying for my special star!