arms

Says B: "You have old lady arms."

I'm speechless.

And I'm 41.

first letter

<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

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.

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.

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.

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?

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

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.

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."

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!!!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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 ;)

couch time

They all started school today! Oh thank God, just in time.

Enough said.