<Reading this letter will make much more sense if you have already read my previous post called "stories".>
Brennan,
I am writing this letter at 1:30 in the morning because I woke up with feelings of frustration and fear. I am worried about your heart. So I prayed, asking how to help you. Here are my thoughts:
I love you. Every day I have loved you, your whole life, with my whole heart, and with every action
--making you food
--teaching you to make your own food
--giving you hugs, kisses, kind words
--teaching you to give hugs, kisses, kind words
--giving you a safe home
--teaching you how to live safely at home
--giving you gifts
--teaching you the love of giving
This list could go on for twelve more pages. Just know that I have poured my heart into you. Many people who know you can see your kind, generous heart, which came partly from being loved and nurtured by me. I am so proud of that, and of you.
I also see your pain and your fear. You fear that the love will end -- at any moment. Sometimes you are so hurt because you think I don't love you. Like I said, I show you with every action, every day. Next time you feel angry or insecure and want to lash out, stop yourself and ask me, "Mom, do you love me?" Don't fear the answer. It will always be YES!!!
Now, about Christmas. One of the ways I love you is by giving you gifts for Christmas. You are right, my gifts to you are a symbol fo my love. They are NOT a measure of my love. You fear getting "less than" my other children, and you fear getting presents that are not good enough. Not good enough for what? I do not understand. You need new socks that fit. Why wouldn't a new pack of socks in your size that I spent a week looking for in six different stores until I found the style and color you like best -- why is that not a good enough gift? It most certainly shows my love and my determination to meet your needs. That's a pretty special package of socks, huh? And, that's just your most boring gift. I've carefully picked out many more, with my insightful brain and deeply loving heart. I have heard what you want, and what you need, and have chosen each gift VERY carefully. Your gifts are very speical because they come from my heart.
Your gifts for Christmas are a symbol of my love, but you can not look at the gifts and measure how much I love you. I give you gifts of love every single day that are way more valuable than the wrapped packages under the tree (or in my closet!). See the first page if you need examples again. I have carefully measured out Christmas gifts evenly between you four, because I am fair and I don't want anyone's feelings to be hurt. I don't measure my love out that way. I don't measure my love out at all. You get all of it. You get all my love! That's pretty special too, huh? You don't have to doubt my love, you don't have to earn my love, it's just there! Always! No matter what!
Merry Christmas!
Love,
Mom
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
stories
I am TRYING to teach my children to have good work ethic. It is working for one of them. The others will sit at the breakfast table, waiting for food, hoping my one hard worker, Elisa, will just go feed the dogs already so that breakfast will start already. Yes, I feed them after they feed the dogs. Seems logical to me. The dogs can't fix their own bowls of food. They will starve without the love and care of their family. The kids can eat free breakfast at school if they choose not to work at home. Their choice. Soooo...Elisa has figured out that she doesn't want the dogs to starve, so she sacrifices her time and warmth to go outside and feed them. She feels good about helping them. Eva and JJ have figured out that if they sit quietly long enough, Elisa will jump up and do the job. Every. Single. Time.
So every day for a week, I have pointed that out to them. I have been giving Elisa extra praise and of course, the dog feeder always gets breakfast first, and a star. Five accumulated stars equals one dollar. They are very aware now of the pattern, but JJ and Eva have not shown any desire to change. OK, I can help with that.
The first step: "Oh, Elisa, the dogs are so thankful that you go out in the cold every morning and feed them. They can tell how much you love them. You know what? I can see in their eyes, that they want you to have an extra special treat today because you've been feeding them in the dark cold mornings for a week now. I'm going to make you some hot chocolate so you can warm up. Good job, Elisa!"
Eva's sulky, tearful head went down on the table. JJ started with his wailing "See? That's what I don't like about you! That's not fair!" and on and on, all the way up to his well-earned time-out in his room. Elisa beamed, looked deeply into the dogs' eyes to look for what I had seen, and enjoyed her hot chocolate with her breakfast. I encouraged Eva to eat her breakfast instead of crying as I went up to talk to JJ. He told me that I didn't give him hot cocoa because I didn't like him. Time for another story.
"Imagine that four adults live in this house with you kids. Every morning, all the people wake up at the same time, and go downstairs. You kids go sit at the breakfast table, as usual, telling the adults that you are hungry. Three adults go straight to the couch and watch TV. One adult goes straight to the kitchen and makes breakfast for you, every morning. When you draw a picture, or make something special at school, which adult will you want to give it to? The ones who watch TV or the one that makes you breakfast every day?"
JJ, and later Eva, both decided that the one who shows love and does special things for people will most likely be given special treats. Logical and true, at least in this house.
I've also been teaching them that it's fun to get gifts, and you need to also give gifts to show your love. (Gifts can be anything you give from your heart.) Elisa has been working for money to buy me a gift. JJ said he will draw pictures ... for Grandma and Grandpa. So today I teased them, as usual, saying "Don't be looking at the presents in my closet!" I added, "When you hide a gift for me in your closet, I promise I won't look." Do you think that's a BIG ENOUGH HINT? I crack myself up.
Brennan requires a whole different approach. He's still paying me restitution for the broken window back in March, I think. He's waited until the last six weeks to do $300 worth of jobs. His deadline is December 23, after which I show him love and grace: his balance due becomes zero. Nice, thoughtful, loving Christmas present, right? Well, of course, that gift takes the place of another gift. He can't be given a $95 window-money gift AND a new Ipod. He's still got plenty of gifts coming his way. Every thing he has told me he needs this year will be under the tree. I'll tell you the list after Christmas, because it is a surprise, but just know that he'll have plenty to unwrap and be thankful for. Instead of being relieved, thankful, or at least complacent, he has doubted my love for him in a panicky, angry voice every single day for the last two weeks. He is truly afraid that I only love my little ones and will only give them presents. Well, I have shown him the wrapped gifts with his name on them, I have told him he's got at least seven things to unwrap, I've done lots more to ease his fears. It's not working. His fear is borderline feral, and so is he sometimes. I've been patient and kind and loving. Until last night. I told him a story too. I said "OK, fine. I'll tell you what you want to hear. You want to hear your worst fears confirmed. You want to hear that I don't care about you and only got you socks and underwear for Christmas. You want to know that I got the underwear from Goodwill and that they have butt-stains on them. You want to know that I found an open package of socks somewhere, and they would fit a toddler, and they have pink polka-dots on them. You want to know that I don't care about your feelings this Christmas." And that's all I had to say about that.
Then my eyes popped open at 1:30 this morning, because I obviously wasn't done with my anguish. So I started to pray. The result of the prayers were three letters to Brennan, which I will type as the next three posts. I hope you read this post first, then the next three letters in order. The story will make much more sense.
So every day for a week, I have pointed that out to them. I have been giving Elisa extra praise and of course, the dog feeder always gets breakfast first, and a star. Five accumulated stars equals one dollar. They are very aware now of the pattern, but JJ and Eva have not shown any desire to change. OK, I can help with that.
The first step: "Oh, Elisa, the dogs are so thankful that you go out in the cold every morning and feed them. They can tell how much you love them. You know what? I can see in their eyes, that they want you to have an extra special treat today because you've been feeding them in the dark cold mornings for a week now. I'm going to make you some hot chocolate so you can warm up. Good job, Elisa!"
Eva's sulky, tearful head went down on the table. JJ started with his wailing "See? That's what I don't like about you! That's not fair!" and on and on, all the way up to his well-earned time-out in his room. Elisa beamed, looked deeply into the dogs' eyes to look for what I had seen, and enjoyed her hot chocolate with her breakfast. I encouraged Eva to eat her breakfast instead of crying as I went up to talk to JJ. He told me that I didn't give him hot cocoa because I didn't like him. Time for another story.
"Imagine that four adults live in this house with you kids. Every morning, all the people wake up at the same time, and go downstairs. You kids go sit at the breakfast table, as usual, telling the adults that you are hungry. Three adults go straight to the couch and watch TV. One adult goes straight to the kitchen and makes breakfast for you, every morning. When you draw a picture, or make something special at school, which adult will you want to give it to? The ones who watch TV or the one that makes you breakfast every day?"
JJ, and later Eva, both decided that the one who shows love and does special things for people will most likely be given special treats. Logical and true, at least in this house.
I've also been teaching them that it's fun to get gifts, and you need to also give gifts to show your love. (Gifts can be anything you give from your heart.) Elisa has been working for money to buy me a gift. JJ said he will draw pictures ... for Grandma and Grandpa. So today I teased them, as usual, saying "Don't be looking at the presents in my closet!" I added, "When you hide a gift for me in your closet, I promise I won't look." Do you think that's a BIG ENOUGH HINT? I crack myself up.
Brennan requires a whole different approach. He's still paying me restitution for the broken window back in March, I think. He's waited until the last six weeks to do $300 worth of jobs. His deadline is December 23, after which I show him love and grace: his balance due becomes zero. Nice, thoughtful, loving Christmas present, right? Well, of course, that gift takes the place of another gift. He can't be given a $95 window-money gift AND a new Ipod. He's still got plenty of gifts coming his way. Every thing he has told me he needs this year will be under the tree. I'll tell you the list after Christmas, because it is a surprise, but just know that he'll have plenty to unwrap and be thankful for. Instead of being relieved, thankful, or at least complacent, he has doubted my love for him in a panicky, angry voice every single day for the last two weeks. He is truly afraid that I only love my little ones and will only give them presents. Well, I have shown him the wrapped gifts with his name on them, I have told him he's got at least seven things to unwrap, I've done lots more to ease his fears. It's not working. His fear is borderline feral, and so is he sometimes. I've been patient and kind and loving. Until last night. I told him a story too. I said "OK, fine. I'll tell you what you want to hear. You want to hear your worst fears confirmed. You want to hear that I don't care about you and only got you socks and underwear for Christmas. You want to know that I got the underwear from Goodwill and that they have butt-stains on them. You want to know that I found an open package of socks somewhere, and they would fit a toddler, and they have pink polka-dots on them. You want to know that I don't care about your feelings this Christmas." And that's all I had to say about that.
Then my eyes popped open at 1:30 this morning, because I obviously wasn't done with my anguish. So I started to pray. The result of the prayers were three letters to Brennan, which I will type as the next three posts. I hope you read this post first, then the next three letters in order. The story will make much more sense.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
shaken
http://thebluereview.org/i-am-adam-lanzas-mother/
Brave, honorable woman, full of integrity. She's doing EVERYTHING she can to raise her family as safely as possible, absorbing most of the abuse herself in the process. Does it sound like you?
It sounds like me.
The thought occurred to me that by publishing this article, she is not only educating people, calling people to action, but also documenting that she is doing her part, but is helpless to stop her son's outbursts. Just in case. I have done the same thing, many times.
My most mentally ill child does not want to hurt a mass of people. He wants to get his way without working for it. His rages are spontaneous and short-lived. He's more likely to "borrow" a car or get shot by someone trying to protect himself, than to stage a hostage or mass murder situation.
Changing the subject totally now.
My health has not been good. I have two internal benign masses that cause some pain but not enough for insurance to authorize excision. Do I lie to get approved for surgery? Do I get surgery and dump my needful children on other people to take care of until I come out of pain-medication-stupor? I lie awake at night willing these things to disappear. I am really creeped out by them. What if they get bigger? Ew. And it's kind of painful to bend over.
So I've been embracing diet changes to treat my whole body, in hopes that my health will return to normal. I'm moving towards being at least 50% vegan and 80% grain-free! Go me. I already LOVE an organic grocery store in town, so finding what I need is pretty easy. I bought a huge load of grass-fed organic meat for the kids, plus a ton of fruits, vegetables, bulk bin nuts, seeds and rice, quinoa, coconut oil, tofu (really) and GF condiments...all for $138. Remember, I've been gluten-free for about six years. The dairy needs to get back out of my diet. I'll worry more about sugar later. That's the hardest one.
New impromptu recipes:
Quinoa, slightly overcooked, lukewarm, with dried cranberries, slivered almonds, and the juice and zest of clementine oranges. Oh my gosh YUM! I accidentally overcooked it, but the oatmeal-like mushiness made it perfect for breakfast. Hmm, I can't remember if I put a little olive oil in it to loosen it up. Coconut oil would be perfect. I'm trying that next time.
Diced, steamed yams, lukewarm, drizzled with honey and sprinkled with a lot of pepitas and a few chocolate chips. YUM. I ate that for breakfast this morning. My kids helped me. Score! I'll be making this again for dessert.
I'm trying this next: I got these little baby eggplant for ten cents each. I think they were called Indian eggplant, and they are about the size of a plum. I am going to halve these and sautee with GF peanut sauce over some (ohmygoodness, really?) grilled tofu, or if I chicken out, grilled polenta. It'll be fun.
Brave, honorable woman, full of integrity. She's doing EVERYTHING she can to raise her family as safely as possible, absorbing most of the abuse herself in the process. Does it sound like you?
It sounds like me.
The thought occurred to me that by publishing this article, she is not only educating people, calling people to action, but also documenting that she is doing her part, but is helpless to stop her son's outbursts. Just in case. I have done the same thing, many times.
My most mentally ill child does not want to hurt a mass of people. He wants to get his way without working for it. His rages are spontaneous and short-lived. He's more likely to "borrow" a car or get shot by someone trying to protect himself, than to stage a hostage or mass murder situation.
Changing the subject totally now.
My health has not been good. I have two internal benign masses that cause some pain but not enough for insurance to authorize excision. Do I lie to get approved for surgery? Do I get surgery and dump my needful children on other people to take care of until I come out of pain-medication-stupor? I lie awake at night willing these things to disappear. I am really creeped out by them. What if they get bigger? Ew. And it's kind of painful to bend over.
So I've been embracing diet changes to treat my whole body, in hopes that my health will return to normal. I'm moving towards being at least 50% vegan and 80% grain-free! Go me. I already LOVE an organic grocery store in town, so finding what I need is pretty easy. I bought a huge load of grass-fed organic meat for the kids, plus a ton of fruits, vegetables, bulk bin nuts, seeds and rice, quinoa, coconut oil, tofu (really) and GF condiments...all for $138. Remember, I've been gluten-free for about six years. The dairy needs to get back out of my diet. I'll worry more about sugar later. That's the hardest one.
New impromptu recipes:
Quinoa, slightly overcooked, lukewarm, with dried cranberries, slivered almonds, and the juice and zest of clementine oranges. Oh my gosh YUM! I accidentally overcooked it, but the oatmeal-like mushiness made it perfect for breakfast. Hmm, I can't remember if I put a little olive oil in it to loosen it up. Coconut oil would be perfect. I'm trying that next time.
Diced, steamed yams, lukewarm, drizzled with honey and sprinkled with a lot of pepitas and a few chocolate chips. YUM. I ate that for breakfast this morning. My kids helped me. Score! I'll be making this again for dessert.
I'm trying this next: I got these little baby eggplant for ten cents each. I think they were called Indian eggplant, and they are about the size of a plum. I am going to halve these and sautee with GF peanut sauce over some (ohmygoodness, really?) grilled tofu, or if I chicken out, grilled polenta. It'll be fun.
Friday, December 7, 2012
silly
Too silly not to blog:
B was attention-seeking and vengeful (not a good combo) and kicked Elisa's heel. She was fine, but he howled in pain. Then he yelled at her for hurting him. I could not convince him that she was innocent, but I didn't want to argue anyway. Arguing against an oppositional teenager is silly.
So we got in the restaurant, Panda Express. I sent B to wait in the line and sat my littles down at a table. I asked each of them if there's something extra yummy they remembered liking, besides orange chicken and lo mein. Eva stared blankly, Elisa said "rice". JJ looked at me excitedly and said, "So we're eating at Panda?" The rest of the meal went relatively well. The only issues were my two boys going into the bathroom together, and B stealing my fortune cookie.
Then we got back in the car without too much fussing. Behavior really can turn on a dime around here, so I was thankful for the continued smoothness. Eva has had alot of trouble buckling her seatbelt this week, yet has not taken initiative to pull the buckle out of the hole before trying, even when prompted alot. We've waited "patiently" for several minutes at the beginning of each car ride, letting her problem solve. It's not been working. New strategy: prompt Eva to ask her sister for help. After Elisa works on buckling Eva for what feels like forever, I say "Eva, she can't do it. You try again." And Eva buckles successfully within 3-5 seconds. Every. Single. Time.
Dinner and seatbelts taken care of, we headed to the Christmas concert at the Lutheran High School. I've been kind of excited about it all week. I thought it would help get us more jazzed up for Christmas and make new memories. Except there was no concert. It's NEXT Friday. B said "You wasted all that gas!" (We drove approximately 1.2 miles.) So we watched some of the soccer tournament. The man at the gate said I was welcome to come back next Friday for the concert, but I better show up early because they get really packed. I said "I did show up early. Early enough for front row seats!" Let's see where my silly mind ends up taking us next Friday.
B was attention-seeking and vengeful (not a good combo) and kicked Elisa's heel. She was fine, but he howled in pain. Then he yelled at her for hurting him. I could not convince him that she was innocent, but I didn't want to argue anyway. Arguing against an oppositional teenager is silly.
So we got in the restaurant, Panda Express. I sent B to wait in the line and sat my littles down at a table. I asked each of them if there's something extra yummy they remembered liking, besides orange chicken and lo mein. Eva stared blankly, Elisa said "rice". JJ looked at me excitedly and said, "So we're eating at Panda?" The rest of the meal went relatively well. The only issues were my two boys going into the bathroom together, and B stealing my fortune cookie.
Then we got back in the car without too much fussing. Behavior really can turn on a dime around here, so I was thankful for the continued smoothness. Eva has had alot of trouble buckling her seatbelt this week, yet has not taken initiative to pull the buckle out of the hole before trying, even when prompted alot. We've waited "patiently" for several minutes at the beginning of each car ride, letting her problem solve. It's not been working. New strategy: prompt Eva to ask her sister for help. After Elisa works on buckling Eva for what feels like forever, I say "Eva, she can't do it. You try again." And Eva buckles successfully within 3-5 seconds. Every. Single. Time.
Dinner and seatbelts taken care of, we headed to the Christmas concert at the Lutheran High School. I've been kind of excited about it all week. I thought it would help get us more jazzed up for Christmas and make new memories. Except there was no concert. It's NEXT Friday. B said "You wasted all that gas!" (We drove approximately 1.2 miles.) So we watched some of the soccer tournament. The man at the gate said I was welcome to come back next Friday for the concert, but I better show up early because they get really packed. I said "I did show up early. Early enough for front row seats!" Let's see where my silly mind ends up taking us next Friday.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
ohhhh....
Sadie our black lab seems to have entered her teenage years. She is sneaking around, stealing food, and breaking whatever container/dish the food is in. She is refusing to follow directions like "come in the house".
Today I found a very inappropriate item in my teenager's bedroom. I confiscated it, and have rehearsed my side of the conversation that will happen tonight.
I have been housebound for days with feverish, coughing, puky children, who are each taking turns staying home for two days at a time. I am NOT going to get sick.
My washing machine will not fill with water. The hoses are not clogged. I think communication between the knob (or dial?) and the water valves and hoses is weak. So guess what? I have to carry buckets and buckets of water from the bathtub faucet to the washing machine and dump them in. 6-10 buckets per load to wash, and another 6-10 buckets to rinse.
I found some new information via google about a birthmother, including photos. He has never seen a picture of his birthmother because I have never had a photo. Should I now let him see his birthmother for the first time?
Today I found a very inappropriate item in my teenager's bedroom. I confiscated it, and have rehearsed my side of the conversation that will happen tonight.
I have been housebound for days with feverish, coughing, puky children, who are each taking turns staying home for two days at a time. I am NOT going to get sick.
My washing machine will not fill with water. The hoses are not clogged. I think communication between the knob (or dial?) and the water valves and hoses is weak. So guess what? I have to carry buckets and buckets of water from the bathtub faucet to the washing machine and dump them in. 6-10 buckets per load to wash, and another 6-10 buckets to rinse.
I found some new information via google about a birthmother, including photos. He has never seen a picture of his birthmother because I have never had a photo. Should I now let him see his birthmother for the first time?
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
friend
I'm blogging alot today!
Email reply sent to Amanda Smotherman, an incredible person that I respect a great deal:
Well, I just jumped for joy. I thought I wouldn't get to hear 'the rest of the story'...or learn more about how an awesomely Christian mom deals with such hard kids. I don't blog much either. I get it. Some things just can't be written about. It's better to forget and move on. It's better to respect privacy, and most people wouldn't understand our experiences or decisions, anyway. People ae too quick to judge. It's hurtful. I've put some heavy things on my blog, which is why I thought you didn't respond to me. I thought my lack of reliance on Jesus in my hardest times was enough proof that ... well ... silly, right? But I keep trying, daily, to keep my head and heart in the right place by asking God for help.
I can't see myself being disappointed in your writings. If I see you falter, well, then I know you're human, and I see the humanity in myself, and I can forgive myself more readily for my own mistakes.
I don't think I blogged this: My teenager, Brennan, was trying to think of hurtful things to say to me. He was in the middle of a three hour long rage/mind-game/control battle against us, even though we weren't playing his game. He 'hurtfully' said, "You only adopted us for your own happiness. That's how selfish you are!" I could only frown tiredly and say "Do I look happy to you?" and explain, again, my unconditional love, and his mistrust of it, and lack of give-and-take (his is mostly take-and-take).
God bless Caleb and his love for you. Hurts my heart a little to see him needing to know that you are happy. He's a good boy. But, I know that he knows deep down that your happiness on earth isn't the issue, it's your eternal happiness that will be so awesome! So I am hoping he takes comfort in that, and doesn't worry about his mama as much?
I'm sorry to hear that he is still away. I'm looking forward to finding out how everyone has been...I'll start reading right after I clean this house!
So glad to have friends to walk with down Adoption Street,
Jen in Phoenix
Email reply sent to Amanda Smotherman, an incredible person that I respect a great deal:
Well, I just jumped for joy. I thought I wouldn't get to hear 'the rest of the story'...or learn more about how an awesomely Christian mom deals with such hard kids. I don't blog much either. I get it. Some things just can't be written about. It's better to forget and move on. It's better to respect privacy, and most people wouldn't understand our experiences or decisions, anyway. People ae too quick to judge. It's hurtful. I've put some heavy things on my blog, which is why I thought you didn't respond to me. I thought my lack of reliance on Jesus in my hardest times was enough proof that ... well ... silly, right? But I keep trying, daily, to keep my head and heart in the right place by asking God for help.
I can't see myself being disappointed in your writings. If I see you falter, well, then I know you're human, and I see the humanity in myself, and I can forgive myself more readily for my own mistakes.
I don't think I blogged this: My teenager, Brennan, was trying to think of hurtful things to say to me. He was in the middle of a three hour long rage/mind-game/control battle against us, even though we weren't playing his game. He 'hurtfully' said, "You only adopted us for your own happiness. That's how selfish you are!" I could only frown tiredly and say "Do I look happy to you?" and explain, again, my unconditional love, and his mistrust of it, and lack of give-and-take (his is mostly take-and-take).
God bless Caleb and his love for you. Hurts my heart a little to see him needing to know that you are happy. He's a good boy. But, I know that he knows deep down that your happiness on earth isn't the issue, it's your eternal happiness that will be so awesome! So I am hoping he takes comfort in that, and doesn't worry about his mama as much?
I'm sorry to hear that he is still away. I'm looking forward to finding out how everyone has been...I'll start reading right after I clean this house!
So glad to have friends to walk with down Adoption Street,
Jen in Phoenix
food
Comment I just posted at Cindy Bodie's blog:
I struggle with food choices daily. I am having health issues, and am slooowly talking myself into making changes. I've been gluten free for 6 years, I had also given up dairy and sugar for 2 years, and desperately need to do it again.
Have you read "The Crazy Sexy Diet"? It's about eating a vegan diet with 80% alkaline foods and 20% acidic foods daily. Very interesting. I have to kick my sugar, carb and dairy addictions first.
I'd feel so much better...if I didn't rely on the food to help me deal with stress.
I struggle with food choices daily. I am having health issues, and am slooowly talking myself into making changes. I've been gluten free for 6 years, I had also given up dairy and sugar for 2 years, and desperately need to do it again.
Have you read "The Crazy Sexy Diet"? It's about eating a vegan diet with 80% alkaline foods and 20% acidic foods daily. Very interesting. I have to kick my sugar, carb and dairy addictions first.
I'd feel so much better...if I didn't rely on the food to help me deal with stress.
funnies
JJ: "Mom, is Grandpa John our uncle?"
________
Eva: "Angelica came back to school yesterday."
Mom: "Where was she?"
Eva: "In Mexico. For a lot of days."
Elisa: "I'm glad she's safe. Bad things can happen to you in Mexico, you know."
Mom: "Like what?"
Elisa: "A meteor can fall from the sky on you. I saw it on TV."
________
Eva: "Angelica came back to school yesterday."
Mom: "Where was she?"
Eva: "In Mexico. For a lot of days."
Elisa: "I'm glad she's safe. Bad things can happen to you in Mexico, you know."
Mom: "Like what?"
Elisa: "A meteor can fall from the sky on you. I saw it on TV."
Monday, November 19, 2012
nerd
I am a self-proclaimed nerd, so this reallllly is exciting ...
In case you have ever wondered ...
http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_is_the_full_chemical_name_of_titan
the longest word in the English language.
TA-DAAA!!!
In case you have ever wondered ...
http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_is_the_full_chemical_name_of_titan
the longest word in the English language.
TA-DAAA!!!
Friday, November 16, 2012
crazy
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hyYv80hibTw
Call me crazy but when I watched this video, I cried at the end. I often feel grief for what happened to Jesus, especially when thinking of the story from His mother's perspective. Breaks my heart.
We're supposed to celebrate our salvation, but sometimes I can not get past the grieving.
Thanks to Amanda Smotherman for the link.
Call me crazy but when I watched this video, I cried at the end. I often feel grief for what happened to Jesus, especially when thinking of the story from His mother's perspective. Breaks my heart.
We're supposed to celebrate our salvation, but sometimes I can not get past the grieving.
Thanks to Amanda Smotherman for the link.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
hoard
Tonight, B, my teen, needed regression therapy, or whatever you call it, where I had to interact with him like he was two years old, because at the moment, he was. So I physically prevented him from taking every shiny thing that caught his eye and claiming it for himself. He's alot bigger than me, and I must have looked like a high school wrestler. Maybe even college level. He got his needs met and snapped out of it. Then he asked me if I was ok. My face was beet red and I was dripping with sweat. But he got to see me in action again. When I say 'don't steal', I mean it. I will do everything in my power to prevent him from stealing, until he learns to control his impulses himself, or moves out at 18, whichever comes first. He knows I'll fight for him. That is a gift I insist on giving him. I love him that much.
Before that, I half-way cleaned my office, then jumped head first with my girls for an extensive clean of their room. Looked a little like one of those episodes of Hoarders. One of my girls does not care about the mess, and the other girl keeps everything. We pulled it all out of their room except for their dresser and the clothes hanging in their closet. Most of the stuff did not return to their room. It looks so much better now. I love that they were willing to clean their rooms to avoid the consequence of missing our fun plans tomorrow. It is so much easier to teach a child who has motivation.
I am fighting a big bad enemy that has slowly snuck up on me without me noticing: lying. I am now addressing it constantly, consistently, and sternly to let the kids know I have zero tolerance for lying. Even pretending something is true doesn't fly here anymore. One said "It's going to be 89 degrees today" like it was fact. No sir. You are honest, or you are quiet. Some of the kids are getting better, some are not. I'll be more flexible after they learn how serious it is to have honesty and integrity.
I. Am. Exhausted.
Tomorrow brings hiking "to the top!" of a mountain, lunch with friends, then the movies to see Wreck It Ralph.
God bless our soldiers that put God and country before self. We owe you so much. Thank you for your honorable service.
Before that, I half-way cleaned my office, then jumped head first with my girls for an extensive clean of their room. Looked a little like one of those episodes of Hoarders. One of my girls does not care about the mess, and the other girl keeps everything. We pulled it all out of their room except for their dresser and the clothes hanging in their closet. Most of the stuff did not return to their room. It looks so much better now. I love that they were willing to clean their rooms to avoid the consequence of missing our fun plans tomorrow. It is so much easier to teach a child who has motivation.
I am fighting a big bad enemy that has slowly snuck up on me without me noticing: lying. I am now addressing it constantly, consistently, and sternly to let the kids know I have zero tolerance for lying. Even pretending something is true doesn't fly here anymore. One said "It's going to be 89 degrees today" like it was fact. No sir. You are honest, or you are quiet. Some of the kids are getting better, some are not. I'll be more flexible after they learn how serious it is to have honesty and integrity.
I. Am. Exhausted.
Tomorrow brings hiking "to the top!" of a mountain, lunch with friends, then the movies to see Wreck It Ralph.
God bless our soldiers that put God and country before self. We owe you so much. Thank you for your honorable service.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
really!
Lighting a fire under his butt doesn't usually work. So when I tell him of an impending consequence, I do so out of fairness so there are no surprises. He does not do well with surprises. If I know something might happen, he knows too.
So when I told him on Monday that he's got the rest of this semester to pass his classes or I'm transferring him to a credit-recovery school, I expected tons of anger, bullying, but no changes on his part. Three days ago he didn't mention it much. Two days ago, he yelled "I'm not going to that &#*% school" a few times. Yesterday, he came straight home after school, CALMLY took out his notebook, and DID HIS HOMEWORK. He SHOWED ME THE ESSAY he was drafting. He ASKED ME FOR FEEDBACK. Astonishing. Who was this kid?? I just listed four skills that he has *never* shown at home. More incredibly, he was doing this for almost an hour on a very distracting day: Halloween, just before time to get ready for trick-or-treating.
All of this severely contrasts with his behavior just two and three days ago, which I can't even blog about.
Can he really be this good?
Really?
Really!
And yes, if you knew this kid, you'd think the ALL CAPS are warranted, too.
So when I told him on Monday that he's got the rest of this semester to pass his classes or I'm transferring him to a credit-recovery school, I expected tons of anger, bullying, but no changes on his part. Three days ago he didn't mention it much. Two days ago, he yelled "I'm not going to that &#*% school" a few times. Yesterday, he came straight home after school, CALMLY took out his notebook, and DID HIS HOMEWORK. He SHOWED ME THE ESSAY he was drafting. He ASKED ME FOR FEEDBACK. Astonishing. Who was this kid?? I just listed four skills that he has *never* shown at home. More incredibly, he was doing this for almost an hour on a very distracting day: Halloween, just before time to get ready for trick-or-treating.
All of this severely contrasts with his behavior just two and three days ago, which I can't even blog about.
Can he really be this good?
Really?
Really!
And yes, if you knew this kid, you'd think the ALL CAPS are warranted, too.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
work
Most of the things that fill my head daily are issues that I can not put in my blog. I check three other adoptive mama blogs daily, and feel a distant sense of community that way, plus I learn alot about parenting high-needs kids. Then I have to stay silent. I am sure these issues are common among the other families I read about. I still feel alone. I do have a solid support network in the behavioral health system here. That can be hard to come by. My older son's new case manager rocks! I had a huge, that-changes-everything event this morning with my son, and I know that Jeff will call me as soon as he turns his phone on and gets my messages. I am confident that we'll have a solid plan in place for how to help my son with the problem when he gets home. My younger son is stuck between being a sweet little kid and a teenager, and has the weight of the world on his shoulders sometimes. The breaks that he gets from school (aka 2-3 day out-of-school suspensions) give me a chance to reset his ways of thinking, and fill him with a sense of security and trust. Everyone needs a reset button. I have found his. My little (but growing!) girls have big watchful eyes, and are learning the wrong ways to express their independence. I have not found their reset buttons yet. All I've got on my side are consequences, and the girls do not yet take accountability for their actions. They tend to shut down or get mad at me for consequencing them. I've got my work cut out for me.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
quote
WISDOM is learning to let go when you want to hang on.
COURAGE is learning to hang on when you want to let go.
- Mark Amend
COURAGE is learning to hang on when you want to let go.
- Mark Amend
unfair
Brennan told me he was being bullied in fifth period. He told me the teacher didn't help him. I got his support system at school to rally around him. I got his therapist and mentor to talk with him about it at home. Brennan still got bullied, and ditched fifth period twice just before fall break.
This morning, Brennan got up in a good mood. He got up with very little help, and went straight to the shower. He did not mess up the bathroom. He got a nice outfit on, came downstairs, said bye to everyone, smiled a little, got all of his school stuff together without help, and left for school 15 minutes early. Hugely successful morning!
He called me from the office a few minutes ago, nearly in tears. He was being sent to ISS but didn't know why. My feathers got ruffled and I wanted to cry too. I called the Dean and found out that he was suspended for ditching fifth period 15 days ago. Of course, on the surface, it seems a suspension is warranted for ditching. But not for a kid like Brennan. Not today! He is just starting to accept that consequences are results of his actions instead of arbitrary attacks upon him. He was so confident in his abilities to be successful in school today. Now this.
My heart broke for him. I called his school counselor (which I should have done before fall break) and had him switched out of Newman's class for fifth period. He needs more adult support with social skills and bullying than she could give him. The school counselor went to ISS and explained to him that ISS was for ditching, which he needed to serve, but he would not go to that class anymore. Maybe he will understand the lessons here and learn from them. Either way, alot of progress may have been undone, and I ache for him and dread starting at square one again. One tiny baby step forward, ten huge steps backward. So unfair.
This morning, Brennan got up in a good mood. He got up with very little help, and went straight to the shower. He did not mess up the bathroom. He got a nice outfit on, came downstairs, said bye to everyone, smiled a little, got all of his school stuff together without help, and left for school 15 minutes early. Hugely successful morning!
He called me from the office a few minutes ago, nearly in tears. He was being sent to ISS but didn't know why. My feathers got ruffled and I wanted to cry too. I called the Dean and found out that he was suspended for ditching fifth period 15 days ago. Of course, on the surface, it seems a suspension is warranted for ditching. But not for a kid like Brennan. Not today! He is just starting to accept that consequences are results of his actions instead of arbitrary attacks upon him. He was so confident in his abilities to be successful in school today. Now this.
My heart broke for him. I called his school counselor (which I should have done before fall break) and had him switched out of Newman's class for fifth period. He needs more adult support with social skills and bullying than she could give him. The school counselor went to ISS and explained to him that ISS was for ditching, which he needed to serve, but he would not go to that class anymore. Maybe he will understand the lessons here and learn from them. Either way, alot of progress may have been undone, and I ache for him and dread starting at square one again. One tiny baby step forward, ten huge steps backward. So unfair.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
time
It's time to retire my favorite pair of pants. Sunlight shines right through the seat of them! They're corduroy, so you can't see anything unsightly from the outside, but I've gotten a good laugh out of them for the past few weeks. Man, they're my most comfortable pants! Sad to see them go, but I'm afraid of the inevitable bend-over-rip-show-my-chones-in-public.
It's time to catch my breath for a second. While I was typing the first paragraph, Eva's Big Sister showed up. Wow, I forgot she was coming. How'd I do that?! I even had the nerve to keep Cassandra waiting outside because I'd have scared her off with my current bed-head style. My hair is new and surprising every morning. I think I'll keep it to myself. JJ stepped up and got the bike out of the garage for Eva, and I spoke to Cassandra through a four inch opening in the front doorway. Classy, huh?
It's time to get clothes, backpacks, and attitudes ready for school to start again tomorrow. The transition is not gonna be easy for the kids. After church, we'll get everything washed, packed and ready. We'll spend lots of energy playing outside this evening, after a movie at the discount theater. That should do it. My littles get agitated and fussy about transitions, but that's nothing I can't handle.
It's time to stop saying "it's time" and get busy again.
It's time to catch my breath for a second. While I was typing the first paragraph, Eva's Big Sister showed up. Wow, I forgot she was coming. How'd I do that?! I even had the nerve to keep Cassandra waiting outside because I'd have scared her off with my current bed-head style. My hair is new and surprising every morning. I think I'll keep it to myself. JJ stepped up and got the bike out of the garage for Eva, and I spoke to Cassandra through a four inch opening in the front doorway. Classy, huh?
It's time to get clothes, backpacks, and attitudes ready for school to start again tomorrow. The transition is not gonna be easy for the kids. After church, we'll get everything washed, packed and ready. We'll spend lots of energy playing outside this evening, after a movie at the discount theater. That should do it. My littles get agitated and fussy about transitions, but that's nothing I can't handle.
It's time to stop saying "it's time" and get busy again.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
unusual
This week feels like the Twilight Zone.
Brennan is in Virginia visiting close friends for fall break. I miss him terribly. I also know that he would be having a terrible time if he was home. Every fun thing I plan is boring to him, and he doesn't do well when he is bored. Or hungry. Or jealous. Or told to do something. Or ... When Brennan ain't happy, ain't noone happy.
Thursday we went to WalMart at 715am for a last minute item Brennan needed for his trip. Met the bus at the bus stop at 740 and sent the girls off to school. I took JJ to a sitter at 8 because he was suspended, got Brennan to the airport at 830, saw him off at 1040, picked JJ up at 1115, met Brennan's therapist and case manager at my home at 1130 for a CFT meeting. Very quick lunch at 1230, and back to the bus stop by 1240 to pick up the girls since it was a half day. They got off the bus at 1250, which made us have to FLY to the school for parent teacher conferences. Yes, if I had been more organized, I would have asked the teachers to keep the girls at school, but ...
A parent teacher conference at 1:00, which lasted until 1:40 even though it was only supposed to be 10 minutes. We got a rough draft of a behavior intervention plan together, though, since four days of suspension in two weeks is a huge red flag that he needs more than he is getting. Our 1:10 parent conference was able to be rescheduled for 1:45, and then we flew to the library. I was five minutes late for my first day on the (volunteer) job. My little ones play happily on the computers, and did so while I trained. For two hours. They rock. Then dinner, movie, showers and BED.
That was Day One of my vacation.
Brennan is in Virginia visiting close friends for fall break. I miss him terribly. I also know that he would be having a terrible time if he was home. Every fun thing I plan is boring to him, and he doesn't do well when he is bored. Or hungry. Or jealous. Or told to do something. Or ... When Brennan ain't happy, ain't noone happy.
Thursday we went to WalMart at 715am for a last minute item Brennan needed for his trip. Met the bus at the bus stop at 740 and sent the girls off to school. I took JJ to a sitter at 8 because he was suspended, got Brennan to the airport at 830, saw him off at 1040, picked JJ up at 1115, met Brennan's therapist and case manager at my home at 1130 for a CFT meeting. Very quick lunch at 1230, and back to the bus stop by 1240 to pick up the girls since it was a half day. They got off the bus at 1250, which made us have to FLY to the school for parent teacher conferences. Yes, if I had been more organized, I would have asked the teachers to keep the girls at school, but ...
A parent teacher conference at 1:00, which lasted until 1:40 even though it was only supposed to be 10 minutes. We got a rough draft of a behavior intervention plan together, though, since four days of suspension in two weeks is a huge red flag that he needs more than he is getting. Our 1:10 parent conference was able to be rescheduled for 1:45, and then we flew to the library. I was five minutes late for my first day on the (volunteer) job. My little ones play happily on the computers, and did so while I trained. For two hours. They rock. Then dinner, movie, showers and BED.
That was Day One of my vacation.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
laugh out loud
I love being busy. I have a hard time sitting still. When I do sit down at the end of the day, I have to be doing something mentally engaging or I fall asleep. To stay busy and not bored while the kids are in school, I am volunteering at my church on Mondays. So far, I have been preparing materials for kid's church lessons and addressing envelopes. Love that. On Wednesdays, I handle client paperwork at another church's food bank. I will soon be volunteering at the library on Thursdays, and I go today to turn in paperwork to help prepare materials at my kids' elementary school. I think I'll do that on Fridays. On Tuesdays whenever possible, I will go to the movies. That is one of my favorite things to do, and I am making it a priority to treat myself, even though a $5 movie is an indulgence on my budget.
Elisa had four crowns removed last week because they were all abcessed. She had not complained at all, so the dentist surprised me with his diagnosis at a routine checkup. Six days later, Elisa was a trooper and barely complained about her chipmunk cheeks, gauze changes, and pain. She did enjoy the attention, jello, and the day off of school. Oh, I almost forgot about this: For the infection, she was prescribed amoxicillin to take until the crowns were removed. One evening I had not sterilized the medicine spoon yet, and gave her the meds using a measuring spoon. She then stood at the sink, holding the set of measuring spoons, trying to open the loop that holds them together so that she could put the dirty one in the sink. I did good...I did not laugh out loud
Brennan had not cleaned his bedroom floor well enough after the last time he broke something. He called me to his room with an urgent voice last week, but I didn't hurry because he is often quite dramatic. I have now memorized that tone of voice for future reference because he truly had an emergency: He had stepped on a shard of glass that was sticking straight up out of the floor. The cut was very tiny but deep and there was a large puddle of blood that was growing fast. The EMT in me kicked into action, and Brennan didn't use the injury as an excuse to stay home from school the next day. He did disturb bedtime by walking up and down the hall on his old crutches. Not a big deal. We are all used to his attention games. I did not laugh out loud.
Brennan's mentor asked him to think of a frustrating activity to do during their next appointment. I was not surprised that Brennan did not prepare for the appointment, but I did. I did not do the dishes the night before the appointment, or the morning of. There were alot of dirty dishes. One of Brennan's triggers is to clean up messes that are not his, and he thinks dirty dishes are disgusting. One hour before the appointment yesterday, I called the mentor and suggested the dishes as a good activity in case Brennan did not come up with something on his own. When the mentor arrived, Brennan tried all his tricks to get out of doing the dishes, but for Dennis, it only took B about ten minutes to come around and start washing. He had alot of water on his clothes, and alot more on the floor, but he got them done! I was so relieved. I'd like to post the picture here of how he loaded the dishes. I was SO proud! I did not laugh out loud.
A name came to me as I was waking, but I don't know what I am supposed to do with it: Shay Gialla. It seemed like a meaningful message or revelation, so I will record it here and see what comes of it. Do not laugh out loud ;)
Elisa had four crowns removed last week because they were all abcessed. She had not complained at all, so the dentist surprised me with his diagnosis at a routine checkup. Six days later, Elisa was a trooper and barely complained about her chipmunk cheeks, gauze changes, and pain. She did enjoy the attention, jello, and the day off of school. Oh, I almost forgot about this: For the infection, she was prescribed amoxicillin to take until the crowns were removed. One evening I had not sterilized the medicine spoon yet, and gave her the meds using a measuring spoon. She then stood at the sink, holding the set of measuring spoons, trying to open the loop that holds them together so that she could put the dirty one in the sink. I did good...I did not laugh out loud
Brennan had not cleaned his bedroom floor well enough after the last time he broke something. He called me to his room with an urgent voice last week, but I didn't hurry because he is often quite dramatic. I have now memorized that tone of voice for future reference because he truly had an emergency: He had stepped on a shard of glass that was sticking straight up out of the floor. The cut was very tiny but deep and there was a large puddle of blood that was growing fast. The EMT in me kicked into action, and Brennan didn't use the injury as an excuse to stay home from school the next day. He did disturb bedtime by walking up and down the hall on his old crutches. Not a big deal. We are all used to his attention games. I did not laugh out loud.
Brennan's mentor asked him to think of a frustrating activity to do during their next appointment. I was not surprised that Brennan did not prepare for the appointment, but I did. I did not do the dishes the night before the appointment, or the morning of. There were alot of dirty dishes. One of Brennan's triggers is to clean up messes that are not his, and he thinks dirty dishes are disgusting. One hour before the appointment yesterday, I called the mentor and suggested the dishes as a good activity in case Brennan did not come up with something on his own. When the mentor arrived, Brennan tried all his tricks to get out of doing the dishes, but for Dennis, it only took B about ten minutes to come around and start washing. He had alot of water on his clothes, and alot more on the floor, but he got them done! I was so relieved. I'd like to post the picture here of how he loaded the dishes. I was SO proud! I did not laugh out loud.
A name came to me as I was waking, but I don't know what I am supposed to do with it: Shay Gialla. It seemed like a meaningful message or revelation, so I will record it here and see what comes of it. Do not laugh out loud ;)
Monday, August 6, 2012
Monday, July 16, 2012
ride
All it took today was a long ride. My 15 year old was amping up to a nasty rage because I was done buying his school clothes so the fun was over. He was tired and in need of more excitement/stimulation/attention. Five minutes later, on our way to an appointment, he was asleep! Praise was due and given. I motioned for my other kids to shhh and we drove north as far as time would allow. We saw cool shadows on the mountains from the bright white, puffy clouds in the bright blue sky. We saw baby palms propped up straight throughout a field. We saw desert-themed mosaics created with rocks on the side of hills. We enjoyed the quiet. When we doubled back and drove to our appointment, he stayed asleep. After parking, I rewarded my littles for their cooperation by making them laugh. I played little tricks on the sleeping teenager like touching his tooth and tickling his nostril. He woke up during that one. We had a good laugh. Later, he got me back by poking my nose with his jagged-nailed finger. I said "Dude, your hand stinks! Like burgers and butt!"
I'm not kidding.
I know some of you can totally relate.
I'm not kidding.
I know some of you can totally relate.
joy
Yesterday we had a long overdue visit with my littles' previous family. It's been a year since the last visit, but my kids roots have grown strong in my family. I knew that a visit with birth family members would not uproot our strong bond. We met at a fast food restaurant where the kids could play and the adults could talk. As I told them our adoption had been finalized, through tears of joy, I tried to thank them for sharing the children with me. I was met with tears that did not seem joyful, but full of pain and loss. They assured me that they are grateful that the adoption has happened and the kids are in a permanent home. I held their hands, hoping to infer that I understand their pain and we are still strongly connected through my three littles.
Friday, July 6, 2012
fifteen
Today, B is 15. As my girls would say, "O. M. G!"
There is alot of stress here on holidays and birthdays. There's the PTSD in me plus the high expectations of my son, which lead to meltdowns when "his day" doesn't match the big ideas in his head. He then sees the scaled down, realistic version of a birthday celebration as some sort of punishment and he acts out.
I dread special days. I love routine, scheduled, structured days. So do my kids.
So, OMG, I am going to bake a cake and make a special breakfast (second breakfast for most of us) and plaster a hopeful smile on my face.
I'd really like this to be a routine, structured day with lots of little nice surprises.
_____
I really should write the funny things my kids say here. One example from this morning:
JJ: "Remember the last time we made a cake and we were just googling around?" I think he meant fooling around... Communicating well doesn't come easily to most of my children, but it sure is funny!
There is alot of stress here on holidays and birthdays. There's the PTSD in me plus the high expectations of my son, which lead to meltdowns when "his day" doesn't match the big ideas in his head. He then sees the scaled down, realistic version of a birthday celebration as some sort of punishment and he acts out.
I dread special days. I love routine, scheduled, structured days. So do my kids.
So, OMG, I am going to bake a cake and make a special breakfast (second breakfast for most of us) and plaster a hopeful smile on my face.
I'd really like this to be a routine, structured day with lots of little nice surprises.
_____
I really should write the funny things my kids say here. One example from this morning:
JJ: "Remember the last time we made a cake and we were just googling around?" I think he meant fooling around... Communicating well doesn't come easily to most of my children, but it sure is funny!
Monday, July 2, 2012
fire
A few years ago, I took an intensive course, EMT104, passed the national exam, and became a certified EMT-Basic. Another item crossed off my bucket list. I didn't have the time or resources (such as babysitting and time off work) to become a Paramedic or to get a part time job as an EMT. I got a very part time volunteer job in an emergency room, but I was needed at home and had to quit in my second week.
Fortunately, during my coursework and for a while after getting certified, I rode along with Station 17 - B shift of the Phoenix Fire Department. In this city, fire fighters are EMTs and Paramedics, and each station has fire trucks and ambulances. I LOVE those guys, and their jobs, and their comraderie. I left a piece of me there at that station when I had to stop 'working' there. While I was with them, we mostly did medical calls, such as diabetes, car accidents, stomach pains, heart issues, and severe allergic reactions. Once we responded to a gas leak but I was told to stay in the truck. Man! You should see how much faster and more excitedly those guys scramble when there is a possible fire call. It's what they live for. I really liked meal times with them. They all contributed to meals in ways they were good at, and the food was always delicious, healthy, and mountainous. I brought in groceries one Sunday morning and cooked them a huge Southern meal with ham, biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, the works...plus fruit salad and muffins for an appetizer just in case they got a call while I was busy working the gravy. Scott said "You sure are puttin' a lot of love in that gravy!" I'll never forget that.
There was a once-in-a-lifetime trip to a burned up mansion. The fire had happened two days prior. We weren't busy so we hopped in the truck to visit, I think because the entire fire department was talking about it. When we got there I realized why. Even my untrained eye could see the fire was set up. There were hip-high stacks of burned phone books in several places of the main room. I listened intently to the conversations of the fire fighters and the fire inspectors, and met the arson dog, Sadie. I learned alot that day. My untrained lungs and eyes burned for days afterwards from the ash and burned air smell.
Yesterday, this story was in the news! I hope the link works. This man was so far off the path of what is right and good and had no idea how to pull himself back up to the surface. I shuddered knowing that I had been at the scene of the crime.
Fortunately, during my coursework and for a while after getting certified, I rode along with Station 17 - B shift of the Phoenix Fire Department. In this city, fire fighters are EMTs and Paramedics, and each station has fire trucks and ambulances. I LOVE those guys, and their jobs, and their comraderie. I left a piece of me there at that station when I had to stop 'working' there. While I was with them, we mostly did medical calls, such as diabetes, car accidents, stomach pains, heart issues, and severe allergic reactions. Once we responded to a gas leak but I was told to stay in the truck. Man! You should see how much faster and more excitedly those guys scramble when there is a possible fire call. It's what they live for. I really liked meal times with them. They all contributed to meals in ways they were good at, and the food was always delicious, healthy, and mountainous. I brought in groceries one Sunday morning and cooked them a huge Southern meal with ham, biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, the works...plus fruit salad and muffins for an appetizer just in case they got a call while I was busy working the gravy. Scott said "You sure are puttin' a lot of love in that gravy!" I'll never forget that.
There was a once-in-a-lifetime trip to a burned up mansion. The fire had happened two days prior. We weren't busy so we hopped in the truck to visit, I think because the entire fire department was talking about it. When we got there I realized why. Even my untrained eye could see the fire was set up. There were hip-high stacks of burned phone books in several places of the main room. I listened intently to the conversations of the fire fighters and the fire inspectors, and met the arson dog, Sadie. I learned alot that day. My untrained lungs and eyes burned for days afterwards from the ash and burned air smell.
Yesterday, this story was in the news! I hope the link works. This man was so far off the path of what is right and good and had no idea how to pull himself back up to the surface. I shuddered knowing that I had been at the scene of the crime.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
reading
In particularly stressful times, I hide my face in a book. It is soothing to fill my head with other people's words and ideas rather than listen to the ones streaming (sometimes screaming) through my mind. Self-medication, of a non-dangerous type.
I have done a lot of reading this summer.
I already mentioned a few books in an earlier post, two by Amy Reed ( Clean and Beautiful ) and four by Lisa McMann ( Wake, Fade, Gone, and Dead To You ). I have since read Dogtag Summer by Elizabeth Partridge, which is a good story about international adoption and PTSD from the point of view of the adopted daughter. I have also enjoyed Chore Wh*re, by Heather Howard, about the experiences of an assistant to celebrities in Hollywood. I laughed out loud at every page. I recommend that book to anyone who needs an escape and a view of a radically different lifestyle. I am forgetting one more book...
I am halfway through A Boy Should Know How to Tie a Tie by THE Antwone Fisher, of the awesome movie about a foster child who grew older, joined the Navy, then grew up. I am also halfway through The Stranger, by Albert Camus, about a man who has little emotion or connection to people, and functions mostly to meet his physical needs which drive him (such as being hot, tired, hungry). Sound familiar? Well, he ended up in jail. Again, too familiar. I was just walking through the stacks at the library and the odd black and white cover of this book caught my eye. This is how I find most of my books, just as we Christians close our eyes, flip through the Bible and let God guide our pointer finger to the verse we need to hear that day. Other than that, when I read a great book, I tend to read everything else the author has written. I especially like personal accounts, biographies and autobiographies, and historical fiction and non-fiction. Anything that has really happened, or could have really happened, I enjoy reading. I do not enjoy science fiction or silly fluffy stories.
I have also spent a good amount of my free time reading blogs this summer. I check Cindy Bodie's, Claudia Fletcher's, and Linda Up North's almost daily. I have linked from Cindy's to Amanda's, and am enjoying her story of raising 21 children in such a loving, Christ-inspired way.
Look at me using the tool bar and inserting links!
I have done a lot of reading this summer.
I already mentioned a few books in an earlier post, two by Amy Reed ( Clean and Beautiful ) and four by Lisa McMann ( Wake, Fade, Gone, and Dead To You ). I have since read Dogtag Summer by Elizabeth Partridge, which is a good story about international adoption and PTSD from the point of view of the adopted daughter. I have also enjoyed Chore Wh*re, by Heather Howard, about the experiences of an assistant to celebrities in Hollywood. I laughed out loud at every page. I recommend that book to anyone who needs an escape and a view of a radically different lifestyle. I am forgetting one more book...
I am halfway through A Boy Should Know How to Tie a Tie by THE Antwone Fisher, of the awesome movie about a foster child who grew older, joined the Navy, then grew up. I am also halfway through The Stranger, by Albert Camus, about a man who has little emotion or connection to people, and functions mostly to meet his physical needs which drive him (such as being hot, tired, hungry). Sound familiar? Well, he ended up in jail. Again, too familiar. I was just walking through the stacks at the library and the odd black and white cover of this book caught my eye. This is how I find most of my books, just as we Christians close our eyes, flip through the Bible and let God guide our pointer finger to the verse we need to hear that day. Other than that, when I read a great book, I tend to read everything else the author has written. I especially like personal accounts, biographies and autobiographies, and historical fiction and non-fiction. Anything that has really happened, or could have really happened, I enjoy reading. I do not enjoy science fiction or silly fluffy stories.
I have also spent a good amount of my free time reading blogs this summer. I check Cindy Bodie's, Claudia Fletcher's, and Linda Up North's almost daily. I have linked from Cindy's to Amanda's, and am enjoying her story of raising 21 children in such a loving, Christ-inspired way.
Look at me using the tool bar and inserting links!
Sunday, June 3, 2012
knowing
Last Sunday we were invited by an old friend to attend a special service at her church. I woke up a bit, church-wise, and was proud of my kids for behaving so well there, and during the long trip there and back. I was hopeful that I could soon make church a part of my life again. I sure do need it.
Yesterday, I had my last few dollars in my wallet, and my car was on empty. While agonizing over finances, I prayed -- no, I bargained -- "God, if my checks come in the mail today, I will be able to go to that church again, and won't that be amazing for me and my kids?"
Tacky, right?
Well, God did me one better.
My check didn't come. Then I knew, as one does when God plants an idea in a brain or a gift in a heart, that we were going to church anyway. We would try one of the 6 churches within two miles of our house. I picked the closest, researched it online, and told the kids. One refused to go (I bet you can't guess which one), one complained, and two got busy choosing pretty dresses to wear.
I was blown away by the message of the day. I had tears in my eyes. I can't wait to go back next Sunday.
Thank you, God, for NOT speeding my checks to me. Thank you for taking care of me in ways I didn't know I needed. Thank you for being there, even when I am not.
Yesterday, I had my last few dollars in my wallet, and my car was on empty. While agonizing over finances, I prayed -- no, I bargained -- "God, if my checks come in the mail today, I will be able to go to that church again, and won't that be amazing for me and my kids?"
Tacky, right?
Well, God did me one better.
My check didn't come. Then I knew, as one does when God plants an idea in a brain or a gift in a heart, that we were going to church anyway. We would try one of the 6 churches within two miles of our house. I picked the closest, researched it online, and told the kids. One refused to go (I bet you can't guess which one), one complained, and two got busy choosing pretty dresses to wear.
I was blown away by the message of the day. I had tears in my eyes. I can't wait to go back next Sunday.
Thank you, God, for NOT speeding my checks to me. Thank you for taking care of me in ways I didn't know I needed. Thank you for being there, even when I am not.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
summer
This doesn't feel like summer. It feels like ****. No, this is not a joke about Phoenix weather. Yes, I am angry and my filters are weak. It has been less than 24 hours since my oldest son was arrested. He wasn't dressed to go to the video store to rent a movie. We all went to the car to wait for him. On my way out the door, I asked him if he needed me to wait, and he refused to answer. I knew he was trying to hold me hostage again, to keep me from leaving. He was stuck in his head somewhere between 'I don't know how to get myself ready fast enough' and 'I don't really want to go, so no one should go'. Well, reasoning with him wasn't gonna happen, and I refuse to be held hostage. As he watched us go to the car to wait for him, his abandonment issues kicked in and he punched the window.
I was proud that he came straight outside and told me. He knew the police would need to be called, and stayed by my car until they arrived. My instinct was to keep the doors locked and the windows up; not to let him in the car. I was not shutting him out, I was just not feeling safe, and I didn't want the shards of glass from his hands and stomach to get in the car. I talked to him and kissed him before the officer took him to jail. I can not repeat here what I said or I will start crying. Again.
My little son was in tears. My little girls were silent and wide-eyed. We went to the corner store and got icees to numb the pain. It felt good to be able to swallow again.
I tried really hard to start fresh with B this morning, but my tone has been stern and not as forgiving as I would like. I explained my need to process this for a while. I have never been through this before! Of course I need time to think. We all do. B has at least a week to think ... he is stuck to me and his sibs with no friend or phone privileges. We'll spend alot of time together deep cleaning the office with the broken window. Top to bottom.
Other than that, I've read a book a day the last three days. They are teen fiction books, which only take a few hours. Clean, by Amy Reed, and Dead to You, by Lisa McMann, are excellent. Both are very well written, easy to read, and describe trauma as it affects teenagers and entire families. I am going to devour all the other books written by these two authors this summer.
I was proud that he came straight outside and told me. He knew the police would need to be called, and stayed by my car until they arrived. My instinct was to keep the doors locked and the windows up; not to let him in the car. I was not shutting him out, I was just not feeling safe, and I didn't want the shards of glass from his hands and stomach to get in the car. I talked to him and kissed him before the officer took him to jail. I can not repeat here what I said or I will start crying. Again.
My little son was in tears. My little girls were silent and wide-eyed. We went to the corner store and got icees to numb the pain. It felt good to be able to swallow again.
I tried really hard to start fresh with B this morning, but my tone has been stern and not as forgiving as I would like. I explained my need to process this for a while. I have never been through this before! Of course I need time to think. We all do. B has at least a week to think ... he is stuck to me and his sibs with no friend or phone privileges. We'll spend alot of time together deep cleaning the office with the broken window. Top to bottom.
Other than that, I've read a book a day the last three days. They are teen fiction books, which only take a few hours. Clean, by Amy Reed, and Dead to You, by Lisa McMann, are excellent. Both are very well written, easy to read, and describe trauma as it affects teenagers and entire families. I am going to devour all the other books written by these two authors this summer.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
expected
Brennan, a high school freshman, eats lunch with high school seniors. He feels much more comfortable hanging out with kids much older and much younger than he is. He does not have one single friend that is his age.
He wanted to have his birthday party in March so his senior friends could come before they graduate from school. His birthday is in July. Of course, March is too early to celebrate, so I set the date for May-ish. He threw a fit, but he knows I don't budge, and eventually accepted the new plans.
It's May-ish now. He invited 15 people to his party, scheduled for this afternoon. I bought enough food for 10, just in case. One senior showed up, for 20 minutes. He had already eaten. He texted other people the whole time. The usual neighborhood kids swarmed in and ate 1/4 of the food and 1/16 of the cake. Instead of being disappointed, Brennan seemed to be beaming at the attention from the neighborhood kids. He even thanked me twice for the party! In front of his friends! I kept waiting for the nastiness to come out of him.
At 7:30, the ending time of the party, I cleaned up the picnic table and loaded up the car. Here it was: He yelled "What the heck! I'm still waiting for some friends to show up!" The poor kid really hadn't come to accept that no one was coming, and of course, it would now be all my fault they didn't come since I was ending the party. That explosion was relatively mild, and to be expected from Brennan.
He broke curfew and stayed out well past dark. He gave me a calm, reasonable explanation, I explained to him some more logical, safe solutions to his problem, and he said "I really want to thank you again for the party." That was not to be expected from Brennan. I milked it and stole a bear hug. Of course his back arched and his arms tensed between us, but ... yeah, expected.
He is not mentioning the planned sleepover at his friends' house that apparently fell through. I am not bringing it up either. We are going to watch the movie Ali with his favorite actor, Will Smith. Then we'll go upstairs. If I direct him in any way to go to bed, though, he'll escalate and blame the cancellation of the sleepover on me. That's to be expected.
He wanted to have his birthday party in March so his senior friends could come before they graduate from school. His birthday is in July. Of course, March is too early to celebrate, so I set the date for May-ish. He threw a fit, but he knows I don't budge, and eventually accepted the new plans.
It's May-ish now. He invited 15 people to his party, scheduled for this afternoon. I bought enough food for 10, just in case. One senior showed up, for 20 minutes. He had already eaten. He texted other people the whole time. The usual neighborhood kids swarmed in and ate 1/4 of the food and 1/16 of the cake. Instead of being disappointed, Brennan seemed to be beaming at the attention from the neighborhood kids. He even thanked me twice for the party! In front of his friends! I kept waiting for the nastiness to come out of him.
At 7:30, the ending time of the party, I cleaned up the picnic table and loaded up the car. Here it was: He yelled "What the heck! I'm still waiting for some friends to show up!" The poor kid really hadn't come to accept that no one was coming, and of course, it would now be all my fault they didn't come since I was ending the party. That explosion was relatively mild, and to be expected from Brennan.
He broke curfew and stayed out well past dark. He gave me a calm, reasonable explanation, I explained to him some more logical, safe solutions to his problem, and he said "I really want to thank you again for the party." That was not to be expected from Brennan. I milked it and stole a bear hug. Of course his back arched and his arms tensed between us, but ... yeah, expected.
He is not mentioning the planned sleepover at his friends' house that apparently fell through. I am not bringing it up either. We are going to watch the movie Ali with his favorite actor, Will Smith. Then we'll go upstairs. If I direct him in any way to go to bed, though, he'll escalate and blame the cancellation of the sleepover on me. That's to be expected.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
lost
This morning was not a regular morning but I failed to see it. Our downstairs dog growled and barked at 5:30, waking me up. I could see nothing wrong in the yard so I went back to bed until the alarm rang. 6:30 came, and four dogs, three kids, and I went downstairs to start breakfast. The dogs went outside and kept barking. The downstairs dog had thrown up during the night, making a widespread mess, so I broke routine to clean the floor. Then we got back to the normal routine of feeding the dogs.
Sadie, Holly and Shekia did not come to their food bowls. I ran outside to see if the gate was open. I ran inside, told the kids to wake Brennan up, grabbed my keys and ran to the car. In my pajamas. With my hair sticking up all over my head. I found Shekia quickly and got her in the car. Sadie and Holly were just gone. For the next hour and a half, we drove around the neighborhood, stopping at home often to see if they found their way back. My heart was breaking. Imagine how my little ones felt, just joining a stable forever family last year? At 8:30 I took the kids home to eat breakfast. Everyone seemed to be holding it together. They were not acting out, which I was very thankful for. During my shower/cry I realized there was nothing else to do but pray and wait until the shelters opened. I prayed for Holly and Sadie. I prayed for our chihuahua who is severely attached to Holly. I prayed for my kids to not have to grieve the loss of those dogs. I prayed for guidance to show up at the right place at the right time today so I could bring Sadie and Holly home safely.
As I was drying off, the doorbell rang! Women who live 3-4 streets away had seen our dogs running and told me to follow them to where the dogs were last seen. Holly and Sadie were on the move, but they stopped in the middle of the road when they heard us calling them. I piled them in our small car on top of the children. The sight of the two women who had driven around our large neighborhood to find where we lived brought tears to my eyes. Okay, the truth is that I bawled like a baby. I was so relieved and grateful!
After getting Holly and Sadie home, we had a family celebration (hugs and dancing and some juice that I save for special occasions). Brennan hugged all of us again in the office of his high school. Wow, right?! On the way to the elementary school, the sun was shining through the clouds on the mountains. What a great opportunity to thank God again for keeping our dogs safe. We just wouldn't be the same without Holly and Sadie in our lives.
After I stop shaking and the adrenaline wears off, I am going to bake goodies for the dog-lovers who reunited us with our babies. We'll take cake and home-made thank you cards to them tonight.
Sadie, Holly and Shekia did not come to their food bowls. I ran outside to see if the gate was open. I ran inside, told the kids to wake Brennan up, grabbed my keys and ran to the car. In my pajamas. With my hair sticking up all over my head. I found Shekia quickly and got her in the car. Sadie and Holly were just gone. For the next hour and a half, we drove around the neighborhood, stopping at home often to see if they found their way back. My heart was breaking. Imagine how my little ones felt, just joining a stable forever family last year? At 8:30 I took the kids home to eat breakfast. Everyone seemed to be holding it together. They were not acting out, which I was very thankful for. During my shower/cry I realized there was nothing else to do but pray and wait until the shelters opened. I prayed for Holly and Sadie. I prayed for our chihuahua who is severely attached to Holly. I prayed for my kids to not have to grieve the loss of those dogs. I prayed for guidance to show up at the right place at the right time today so I could bring Sadie and Holly home safely.
As I was drying off, the doorbell rang! Women who live 3-4 streets away had seen our dogs running and told me to follow them to where the dogs were last seen. Holly and Sadie were on the move, but they stopped in the middle of the road when they heard us calling them. I piled them in our small car on top of the children. The sight of the two women who had driven around our large neighborhood to find where we lived brought tears to my eyes. Okay, the truth is that I bawled like a baby. I was so relieved and grateful!
After getting Holly and Sadie home, we had a family celebration (hugs and dancing and some juice that I save for special occasions). Brennan hugged all of us again in the office of his high school. Wow, right?! On the way to the elementary school, the sun was shining through the clouds on the mountains. What a great opportunity to thank God again for keeping our dogs safe. We just wouldn't be the same without Holly and Sadie in our lives.
After I stop shaking and the adrenaline wears off, I am going to bake goodies for the dog-lovers who reunited us with our babies. We'll take cake and home-made thank you cards to them tonight.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
support
I've been attending a parent support group at my children's behavioral health agency for two months now. The benefits have been surprising.
I got info about a very good developmental pediatrician in Phoenix, and the reading specialist in the practice will be tutoring two of my children during the summer. The nutritionist at the practice will hopefully be able to help my child with high cholesterol and poor eating habits.
I have met more parents who have adopted 4+ children, and need to network with them. Support is good.
Our parent group got neck and back massages (real, professional ones) and did art therapy projects last Thursday.
This quote from a meeting is worth posting here:
“Motherhood brings as much joy as ever, but it still brings boredom, exhaustion, and sorrow too. Nothing else ever will make you as happy or as sad, as proud or as tired, for nothing is quite as hard as helping a person develop his own individuality especially while you struggle to keep your own.”
― Marguerite Kelly
I got info about a very good developmental pediatrician in Phoenix, and the reading specialist in the practice will be tutoring two of my children during the summer. The nutritionist at the practice will hopefully be able to help my child with high cholesterol and poor eating habits.
I have met more parents who have adopted 4+ children, and need to network with them. Support is good.
Our parent group got neck and back massages (real, professional ones) and did art therapy projects last Thursday.
This quote from a meeting is worth posting here:
“Motherhood brings as much joy as ever, but it still brings boredom, exhaustion, and sorrow too. Nothing else ever will make you as happy or as sad, as proud or as tired, for nothing is quite as hard as helping a person develop his own individuality especially while you struggle to keep your own.”
― Marguerite Kelly
Friday, April 20, 2012
Dolly
Last Friday, my parents' dog of 14 years had to be put down due to kidney failure. All of you dog mamas know how painful that is. They decided they would wait a while until they got a new dog, and maybe enjoy not having someone waiting for them to come home every time they went out somewhere.
Until last night ... when my dad got on the Arizona Humane Society website. As soon as he saw her photo, he knew. He was planning to call the Humane Society this morning to ask about her, but I insisted that he needed to be there when they opened their doors this morning or someone else would get her. My sister and I went with my mom and dad to the Humane Society, hoping that she was still available for adoption. Thirty seconds after we stood at the locked front door, another couple got in line with us, saying they were excited about the little white poodle mix. My dad tried to suppress his "I won" smile. He's such a kid sometimes.
The dog, their new dog, is AWESOME. She is very delicate, playful, timid and sweet. She and I bonded immediately. I think she will be spunky and make lots of messes, but my parents are both home all day so she will have the supervision she needs. Her new name is Dolly, after my dad's favorite singer.
I need to learn how to post photos here. She is truly adorable.
I've had to change my clothes because my dogs are so interested and excited about the new dog smell. They must know I went to the shelter where I got all of them. They must be asking me, "I know you got a new dog today, so where is she??"
Pound puppies are the best kind of dogs. Thank God for Dolly, Shekia, Lucky, Sadie, and Holly. Tinkerbell ... I got that little rat-dog at a yard sale ;)
Until last night ... when my dad got on the Arizona Humane Society website. As soon as he saw her photo, he knew. He was planning to call the Humane Society this morning to ask about her, but I insisted that he needed to be there when they opened their doors this morning or someone else would get her. My sister and I went with my mom and dad to the Humane Society, hoping that she was still available for adoption. Thirty seconds after we stood at the locked front door, another couple got in line with us, saying they were excited about the little white poodle mix. My dad tried to suppress his "I won" smile. He's such a kid sometimes.
The dog, their new dog, is AWESOME. She is very delicate, playful, timid and sweet. She and I bonded immediately. I think she will be spunky and make lots of messes, but my parents are both home all day so she will have the supervision she needs. Her new name is Dolly, after my dad's favorite singer.
I need to learn how to post photos here. She is truly adorable.
I've had to change my clothes because my dogs are so interested and excited about the new dog smell. They must know I went to the shelter where I got all of them. They must be asking me, "I know you got a new dog today, so where is she??"
Pound puppies are the best kind of dogs. Thank God for Dolly, Shekia, Lucky, Sadie, and Holly. Tinkerbell ... I got that little rat-dog at a yard sale ;)
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
processing
After reading Cindy Bodie's post today about a mentally ill man who stabbed a police officer after telling his mother he needed to go to the hospital (for mental health issues), I commented the following in her blog:
Do you think the NY man's mom was in temporary shock and denial, or do you think she typically enables him by staying in denial of his issues? I know of a mom who blames the police and the stupid law for her son's repeated parole violations. Now he is in prison for accumulating those violations.
I try to keep my head above water in the traumatic situations my son gets himself, and me, into. I try to keep my head clear so I do not enable him. It is a bit of a struggle, as I blogged a few minutes ago, because I am terrified of him going to jail.
I keep thinking, well, my son isn't hurting anyone, just the house. Where will I draw the line? Where do you draw the line?
It's a very fine line between teaching my son a lesson by sending him to jail for breaking the ceiling, and causing trauma and pain for both of us that he may not learn his lesson from. I keep thinking "It's just drywall. He will lose privileges and work around the house for money until he can fix the hole." Am I protecting him from something I should protect him from? Or am I protecting him from something I shouldn't?
I HATE this part of my job.
Now I sound like a teenager.
I feel very far removed from the mother of the man in NY who gave a police officer a brain injury. I just don't feel like my son's issues are as severe as his. Maybe they aren't. Or maybe that mother had my very same thoughts of protecting her son when he was fourteen, and enabled him to grow into a man who committed several crimes and put a young dad in the hospital. Or maybe mental illness is something neither Brennan or I will have enough control over.
Again, I HATE this part of my job.
Do you think the NY man's mom was in temporary shock and denial, or do you think she typically enables him by staying in denial of his issues? I know of a mom who blames the police and the stupid law for her son's repeated parole violations. Now he is in prison for accumulating those violations.
I try to keep my head above water in the traumatic situations my son gets himself, and me, into. I try to keep my head clear so I do not enable him. It is a bit of a struggle, as I blogged a few minutes ago, because I am terrified of him going to jail.
I keep thinking, well, my son isn't hurting anyone, just the house. Where will I draw the line? Where do you draw the line?
It's a very fine line between teaching my son a lesson by sending him to jail for breaking the ceiling, and causing trauma and pain for both of us that he may not learn his lesson from. I keep thinking "It's just drywall. He will lose privileges and work around the house for money until he can fix the hole." Am I protecting him from something I should protect him from? Or am I protecting him from something I shouldn't?
I HATE this part of my job.
Now I sound like a teenager.
I feel very far removed from the mother of the man in NY who gave a police officer a brain injury. I just don't feel like my son's issues are as severe as his. Maybe they aren't. Or maybe that mother had my very same thoughts of protecting her son when he was fourteen, and enabled him to grow into a man who committed several crimes and put a young dad in the hospital. Or maybe mental illness is something neither Brennan or I will have enough control over.
Again, I HATE this part of my job.
again
Brennan, 14, threw a fit yesterday because I wouldn't let him go play in a kiddie pool with a 7 and 9 year old. He is too big for the pool, too old for the kids, and he had to get ready for his Boy Scouts meeting. He threw couch pillows, shoes, pictures off the wall, whatever he could get his hands on to try to get out of the meeting and make me change my mind. Like that ever works?! Then he screamed "It's not fair" twenty plus times at the top of his lungs. I took a moment to say "No, it's not fair. It's not fair that you are screaming and throwing things around my house" as if that would help him see my rational point of view. It made me feel slightly better though. After he settled down I walked through the house to survey the damage and found a baseball sized hole in the drywall. Again.
Brennan says he made that hole "on accident" last week. I didn't notice a hole until last night, which means it didn't happen until last night. I notice everything. Even though he had made the hole last week, or someone else had made the hole, he needs to realize that he will be a suspect for all damage in areas where he has his rages, here at home and out in public. He is also responsible for any damage he causes, whether accidental or during a rage.
We calmly went to Boy Scouts, then I got the littles to bed, and privately called the police to file a report. I watched a (weird) movie with Brennan, then George Lopez, and when the police pulled up to the house I let him know I had called. Imagine how chaotic our night would have been if Brennan had been consequenced earlier. The littles have state testing today at school, so I made sure they had a normal night and plenty of sleep.
The officer took a while to decide whether or not to take Brennan to jail. I could not be part of that decision. I want him to learn to control himself, and jail may be a good lesson, but it will break me to send him. So I stood with Officer Burke and Brennan and listened to their conversation. Brennan was at risk for being arrested for lying to an officer, destruction of property, and truancy. I was surprised to see Brennan truthfully report that he has been skipping school. Officer Burke was supportive of Brennan's mental health issues, and taught Brennan alot about his place in this world regardless of those issues. He did a pretty good job.
Then the officer told me that I need to beef up discipline around here. He said a child who put a hole in a ceiling should not have been allowed to sit downstairs and watch TV. He said I only am required to give him food and water. He said it's even warm enough to make him stay in the backyard. That's where Officer Burke lost me. I can't imagine a day, or even an hour, with Brennan living on the patio and LEARNING from his situation. Kids like Brennan don't learn that way. His abandonment and self-esteem issues would kick in so badly that he would bust down the door to get back into the same room with me. Again.
Brennan is being consequenced appropriately. His mama knows best.
I don't know what else to say about this issue. I am certainly feeling hypervigilant yet exhausted from the rushing adrenaline last night. Good thing he went to school this morning. I need a break. Again.
Brennan says he made that hole "on accident" last week. I didn't notice a hole until last night, which means it didn't happen until last night. I notice everything. Even though he had made the hole last week, or someone else had made the hole, he needs to realize that he will be a suspect for all damage in areas where he has his rages, here at home and out in public. He is also responsible for any damage he causes, whether accidental or during a rage.
We calmly went to Boy Scouts, then I got the littles to bed, and privately called the police to file a report. I watched a (weird) movie with Brennan, then George Lopez, and when the police pulled up to the house I let him know I had called. Imagine how chaotic our night would have been if Brennan had been consequenced earlier. The littles have state testing today at school, so I made sure they had a normal night and plenty of sleep.
The officer took a while to decide whether or not to take Brennan to jail. I could not be part of that decision. I want him to learn to control himself, and jail may be a good lesson, but it will break me to send him. So I stood with Officer Burke and Brennan and listened to their conversation. Brennan was at risk for being arrested for lying to an officer, destruction of property, and truancy. I was surprised to see Brennan truthfully report that he has been skipping school. Officer Burke was supportive of Brennan's mental health issues, and taught Brennan alot about his place in this world regardless of those issues. He did a pretty good job.
Then the officer told me that I need to beef up discipline around here. He said a child who put a hole in a ceiling should not have been allowed to sit downstairs and watch TV. He said I only am required to give him food and water. He said it's even warm enough to make him stay in the backyard. That's where Officer Burke lost me. I can't imagine a day, or even an hour, with Brennan living on the patio and LEARNING from his situation. Kids like Brennan don't learn that way. His abandonment and self-esteem issues would kick in so badly that he would bust down the door to get back into the same room with me. Again.
Brennan is being consequenced appropriately. His mama knows best.
I don't know what else to say about this issue. I am certainly feeling hypervigilant yet exhausted from the rushing adrenaline last night. Good thing he went to school this morning. I need a break. Again.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
One Perfect Word
One Perfect Word, by Debbie Macomber, has the subtitle "One Word Can Make ALL the Difference". The book is outstanding. For years, she has been chosing one word to explore, and live with/live by all year. She describes her experiences with words like trust, believe, brokenness, balance, hope, purpose. What a courageous, soulful way to live for a year. I hesitate to be public with this, but the word "connection" seems to be the word I need to live with and explore right now.
Brennan went camping with the Boy Scouts all weekend. When I picked him up this morning, the worst thing his Scout Leader had to say was he ate all the food and they had to go get more...AND Brennan is being impulsive but really mellow and ... NICE. I always find hiking in the mountains to be spiritual and soul-cleansing. Maybe he had the same experience. I love how mature he is today.
I need a hike in the mountains now. I am nervous, waiting for the nice to end. I hate walking on egg shells.
Brennan went camping with the Boy Scouts all weekend. When I picked him up this morning, the worst thing his Scout Leader had to say was he ate all the food and they had to go get more...AND Brennan is being impulsive but really mellow and ... NICE. I always find hiking in the mountains to be spiritual and soul-cleansing. Maybe he had the same experience. I love how mature he is today.
I need a hike in the mountains now. I am nervous, waiting for the nice to end. I hate walking on egg shells.
Friday, March 30, 2012
summer camp
For keepsake, here's the letter I am sending to the president of Youth Haven, a Christian camp in Arizona (and Michigan). I am going to start using their new middle names to make them less easily google-able.
Dear Larry Carlson,
My children's case manager at Touchstone Behavioral Health in Phoenix is urging me to enroll my kids in your summer camp this summer. She says that all of her kids that have gone have had an amazing time. That's exactly what I wish for my children.
I have adopted four children who would grow so much from a camp experience like yours. Eva is 7 in April. She has had many 'firsts' since living with me for the past year. She is growing like crazy, both physically and socially, now that she is in a safe, secure place. She is acting like a 'big girl' now, and I am so excited for her to get out into the world a little and grow some more. I know she will be safe and secure at your camp as well.
Elisa is 8, and very social. She thrives on attention and being with friends. Like her sister, she has had few life experiences before moving in with me last year. She needs alot of positive educational experiences to erase the years of neglect and bad influences. Elisa is quite the little star. Wait till you see her smile!
J*** is 9. He prefers to be called JJ now. I think he is trying to put some of his past behind him. He likes to be active outside, and loves to play video games. JJ is the most cautious child I have ever met, probably from years of taking care of his little sisters and his birth mother. He is just starting to learn to just be a kid. He needs alot of fun experiences with kids his age, away from me and his sisters, so he can start to have FUN.
Brennan, 14, has been with me since he was an infant. His first several years of life were extremely difficult, and he has worked very hard to learn boundaries and healthy emotional expression. As a result, he missed tons of social growth, and is now hanging out mostly with 8-10 year old kids. He will learn so much about hanging out with teens socially, and taking care of himself, at summer camp if you have a teen camp this year. Brennan is an awesome kid, and a successful-adult-just-waiting-to-happen. It is critical that he experience as much success as possible in the next four years.
My kids are 4 in a thousand, I'm sure, that are applying for your AZ camps this year. Please let me know what I need to do to register them. I pray that they can go some time this year. I am not working this year, and am not able to give them as many opportunities as they need. Thank you for considering my kids for your camp. What a fantastic opportunity you provide!
Thanks again,
Jen
**********
Oh, by they way, who spreads peanut butter with a knife, then puts the knife back in the drawer?! YUCK.
Dear Larry Carlson,
My children's case manager at Touchstone Behavioral Health in Phoenix is urging me to enroll my kids in your summer camp this summer. She says that all of her kids that have gone have had an amazing time. That's exactly what I wish for my children.
I have adopted four children who would grow so much from a camp experience like yours. Eva is 7 in April. She has had many 'firsts' since living with me for the past year. She is growing like crazy, both physically and socially, now that she is in a safe, secure place. She is acting like a 'big girl' now, and I am so excited for her to get out into the world a little and grow some more. I know she will be safe and secure at your camp as well.
Elisa is 8, and very social. She thrives on attention and being with friends. Like her sister, she has had few life experiences before moving in with me last year. She needs alot of positive educational experiences to erase the years of neglect and bad influences. Elisa is quite the little star. Wait till you see her smile!
J*** is 9. He prefers to be called JJ now. I think he is trying to put some of his past behind him. He likes to be active outside, and loves to play video games. JJ is the most cautious child I have ever met, probably from years of taking care of his little sisters and his birth mother. He is just starting to learn to just be a kid. He needs alot of fun experiences with kids his age, away from me and his sisters, so he can start to have FUN.
Brennan, 14, has been with me since he was an infant. His first several years of life were extremely difficult, and he has worked very hard to learn boundaries and healthy emotional expression. As a result, he missed tons of social growth, and is now hanging out mostly with 8-10 year old kids. He will learn so much about hanging out with teens socially, and taking care of himself, at summer camp if you have a teen camp this year. Brennan is an awesome kid, and a successful-adult-just-waiting-to-happen. It is critical that he experience as much success as possible in the next four years.
My kids are 4 in a thousand, I'm sure, that are applying for your AZ camps this year. Please let me know what I need to do to register them. I pray that they can go some time this year. I am not working this year, and am not able to give them as many opportunities as they need. Thank you for considering my kids for your camp. What a fantastic opportunity you provide!
Thanks again,
Jen
**********
Oh, by they way, who spreads peanut butter with a knife, then puts the knife back in the drawer?! YUCK.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
been a while...
I have been imagining what I'd say in a blog post each day, but something holds me back from actually posting.
Anyway...here's a blurb about each of us:
B had a psychiatric reevaluation on Monday. He listened carefully to the long summary of all of his psyc appointments, treatment, hospitalizations, and birth/adoptive history. I am not sure what part of it he is stuck on. It could be anything from "same meds since 2008" or "don't know if his birthmother had bipolar" or "good progress since 2007". It's usually really hard to tell what sets B off. Now he is in denial of his own problems, refuses to take his meds, and any time someone in this family shows any kind of negative emotion, he yells "you have bipolar". He is in obvious emotional pain, but we just have to wait it out. It is very hard to comfort him when he is in attack mode. He is supposed to go camping this weekend with the Scouts. I won't send him if he is still so ill, but God help us if I have to keep him home with us. It is really fun to see all of his 'normal' teenage behaviors developing. It's funny to notice myself celebrating teenage behaviors, but after living with his rage, extreme clinginess, and sabotage for 14 years, I love seeing him go through puberty and having a somewhat more 'normal' life now that he is getting older.
JJ is a tightly wound ball of nerves. That, paired with his interest in copying B's negative patterns of behavior and his difficulties attaching healthily to me, cause him to need TONS of redirection and time-outs. He usually goes to time-out without help, and is allowed to act as nutty as he wants in his room. His time alone helps him calm down and he comes out a new person. He's not really difficult to parent. I worry alot, though, about his tendency to mimic B's behaviors. I need for JJ to just be JJ, and I remind him daily. I am sure he is starting to hear my voice in his mind by now. We've been together almost a year. He is one of the most cautious people I have ever met. He calls me 'mom' most of the time now, and loves me to the best of his ability. That's good enough for me, because I love him too.
V is getting defiant. She doesn't want to take her meds. She picks fights (arguments) with anyone near her. I am not sure what's going on yet. Either she's got needs that aren't being met, or her natural tendencies for defiance and aggression are starting to come out. She is a very emotional girl, and a very fashionable one too. I have never been a girly-girl, and I am learning alot about how to live with someone who hogs the bathroom, needs extra time to get her outfit and hair just right, and ... ugh. She's only eight. Wait till she's a teenager! Oh, but, you should hear her laugh, and see her eyes sparkle. I am so thankful for this little girl.
L is an emotionally fragile three year old sometimes, and a wise, smart, almost 7 year old at other times. She impresses me with her down-to-earth, clear-headed qualities. She does not get caught up in the other three kids' drama, preferring to stick with me. I love having my little one near me, and she loves the extra attention. She does have her push-pull moments where she tries to injure me with her words, but she is not mature enough yet to figure out anything more hurtful than "I don't want to live here anymore". Easy cheesy.
I am enjoying my days alone while everyone is in school. I rejuvenate physically, mentally, and emotionally during school hours, and try to put the house back in order. Pain in my back and legs keeps me from working as hard as I need to. Frustrating! I imagine so many improvements to my house and yard, which would take tons of physical work and money, neither of which I am capable right now. I can not take a job with regular hours at this time. I need to be available for various appointments and funky school schedules. I may start substitute teaching in August. I am more than qualified. Speaking of funky school schedules, my little ones are in school today from 730-1230, and my high schooler is in school from 1020-230. I only get two hours to myself. I better make the most of those precious two hours.
Not bad for an attempt at journaling...
Anyway...here's a blurb about each of us:
B had a psychiatric reevaluation on Monday. He listened carefully to the long summary of all of his psyc appointments, treatment, hospitalizations, and birth/adoptive history. I am not sure what part of it he is stuck on. It could be anything from "same meds since 2008" or "don't know if his birthmother had bipolar" or "good progress since 2007". It's usually really hard to tell what sets B off. Now he is in denial of his own problems, refuses to take his meds, and any time someone in this family shows any kind of negative emotion, he yells "you have bipolar". He is in obvious emotional pain, but we just have to wait it out. It is very hard to comfort him when he is in attack mode. He is supposed to go camping this weekend with the Scouts. I won't send him if he is still so ill, but God help us if I have to keep him home with us. It is really fun to see all of his 'normal' teenage behaviors developing. It's funny to notice myself celebrating teenage behaviors, but after living with his rage, extreme clinginess, and sabotage for 14 years, I love seeing him go through puberty and having a somewhat more 'normal' life now that he is getting older.
JJ is a tightly wound ball of nerves. That, paired with his interest in copying B's negative patterns of behavior and his difficulties attaching healthily to me, cause him to need TONS of redirection and time-outs. He usually goes to time-out without help, and is allowed to act as nutty as he wants in his room. His time alone helps him calm down and he comes out a new person. He's not really difficult to parent. I worry alot, though, about his tendency to mimic B's behaviors. I need for JJ to just be JJ, and I remind him daily. I am sure he is starting to hear my voice in his mind by now. We've been together almost a year. He is one of the most cautious people I have ever met. He calls me 'mom' most of the time now, and loves me to the best of his ability. That's good enough for me, because I love him too.
V is getting defiant. She doesn't want to take her meds. She picks fights (arguments) with anyone near her. I am not sure what's going on yet. Either she's got needs that aren't being met, or her natural tendencies for defiance and aggression are starting to come out. She is a very emotional girl, and a very fashionable one too. I have never been a girly-girl, and I am learning alot about how to live with someone who hogs the bathroom, needs extra time to get her outfit and hair just right, and ... ugh. She's only eight. Wait till she's a teenager! Oh, but, you should hear her laugh, and see her eyes sparkle. I am so thankful for this little girl.
L is an emotionally fragile three year old sometimes, and a wise, smart, almost 7 year old at other times. She impresses me with her down-to-earth, clear-headed qualities. She does not get caught up in the other three kids' drama, preferring to stick with me. I love having my little one near me, and she loves the extra attention. She does have her push-pull moments where she tries to injure me with her words, but she is not mature enough yet to figure out anything more hurtful than "I don't want to live here anymore". Easy cheesy.
I am enjoying my days alone while everyone is in school. I rejuvenate physically, mentally, and emotionally during school hours, and try to put the house back in order. Pain in my back and legs keeps me from working as hard as I need to. Frustrating! I imagine so many improvements to my house and yard, which would take tons of physical work and money, neither of which I am capable right now. I can not take a job with regular hours at this time. I need to be available for various appointments and funky school schedules. I may start substitute teaching in August. I am more than qualified. Speaking of funky school schedules, my little ones are in school today from 730-1230, and my high schooler is in school from 1020-230. I only get two hours to myself. I better make the most of those precious two hours.
Not bad for an attempt at journaling...
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