The mom that could...

The Now

2012-10-17T10:09:00.000-07:00

Minutes, turn into hours; weave into days, sometimes at speeds so fast it is simply impossible to comprehend. To find a shirt in the back of the drawer “oh this is his favorite!” yet when he tries it on, his little belly shows, a good indication that time has once again lapsed and he has grown without warning. Those moments you think “I wish it could stop, I wish he could stay little, just for a while”, but at the same time thank God for being able to see him outgrow yet another pair of shoes. Those moments he picks up a book and reads it, without asking for help. I feel sadness because he does not need me to read the pages that we read over and over… and a sense of pride that I helped him become the child that can read that book, himself.

Time just keeps passing. When did my baby turn become a six year old? Sometimes my heart wrenches as I tell him “You have to try to do it yourself”, as he gets older, he’ll want my help less and less. I am not sure who I am going to be, when there are no longer shoes that need tied. I wish sometimes I could bottle up this time and keep a little for a special occasion.

Looking back over the last six years, it is amazing how many things have changed. I never was able to give him 100% of me. I had a three year old that, while very independent, really needed a lot of guidance and attention. I went back to school when he was only two months old. I spent days nursing him, while writing research papers. Now, looking back, I wish I had savored my time with him more. I was doing what I thought was right and trying to help our family.

I remember days he would have to lay awake in his bassinet because Tre was having a meltdown. Those were the days my heart felt like it was ripped to pieces. Now, I believe those experiences helped mold him into a child that has no problem going and playing alone. I guess things do work out, even when you feel sometimes they won’t.

I remember days of riding the bus to the store, with him in a baby carrier, and trying to carry bags of groceries and an infant, upstairs to our apartment. Days I was always in a hurry, trying to get things done. Days I wish I could go back to and play with him again.

Every morning at school he demands I stand at the gate and wave to him, until his teacher walks his class to their room. He stands and waves and waves. And I stand and I wave and wave. I will stand there for those ten minutes, because in a few months, he won’t need me to anymore. The day he decides he doesn’t need me to stand there and wave, will be a sad day for me.

Being a parent creates so many conflicting feelings. There is fear that they are growing up too fast, mixed with the happiness that they are not scared to be independent. I find myself concerned that they might get hurt, mixed with a hint of admiration of their courage. I long to watch them grow up and become a men, while fighting off sadness that the time is going by so fast. Some days I am wishing they would stop growing, but am terrified that I will miss the chance to see it happen.

I have made so many mistakes over the last six years. I have not always made the right choices. Sometimes when life is beating down the door, you have to answer. These are the things I want him to remember; no matter what, I love you and always have. I love your morning grogginess, that you have always had. I love the way you sneak into my room at night, and I wake up cuddled up next to you. I love sitting back and watching you play, in your imaginary world, I would love to see things through your eyes!

Being a mom has to be the hardest thing I have ever done. The fact is that life keeps going, even when something goes wrong. Sometimes all I want to do is sit down and play but I know dinner has to be made, bills have to be paid, and some things can’t wait. When one child has a meltdown, the other still needs you. When you have health troubles, your kids still need help with homework. When you lose a loved one, the kids still need to know they are loved and you aren’t going anywhere. It is hard to find a balance.

Today, I sit here waiting to hear some medical test results. It’s a pretty big deal and they are a few weeks coming. I am waiting for the phone to ring, but trying to find ways to keep busy. When the kids are here, I try to just focus on them. Sometimes a sadness creeps over me, like “what if the results aren’t good… what then?” I want them to be number one, what toll will it all take on them. As moms, we have to deal with everything that is going on and still remember that there are little people counting on us, depending on us, and learning from us. After struggling with anxiety the last few days, I’ve opted to focus on the now. I’m not worrying about what’s coming, what might happen, or how fast time has flown by. I’m going to cherish each now. I’m going to be present. We never know, after all, what will happen. Even the moments we feel are so hard now, in hindsight are just a blink of an eye.

The Most Important Gifts we can Give our Children

2012-10-05T09:01:00.000-07:00

The Most Important Gifts we can Give Our Children

1. Our time- Real time, look them in the eye and hear what they are saying, time! If your child is struggling with something, be there for them. Even if you don’t understand, provide them comfort. Help shelter them from the storm, when you can. If they make a mess of something, help them pick up the pieces. Sometimes you have to let them fix their own problems, but be there, cheering them along. When we really engage with our children, we learn to understand them.

2. Our love- Don’t just say “I love you” actions speak louder than words. If your child doesn’t like being touched (hugged & kissed) find other ways to express love. I like to leave messages on the bathroom mirror with a dry erase marker, or put a napkin note in their lunch J. Love is a gift that tends to keep giving. Remember love is patient and love is kind.

3. Forgiveness- Everyone messes up, don’t hold grudges or they’ll do the same to you. Practice forgiveness, set a good example.

4. Teach them to accept others

5. Teach them empathy.

6. Teach them to use kind words.

7. Teach them not to judge others.

8. Respect- If you don’t respect your kids, they won’t respect you. Respect is not given, it is earned.

9. Be a role model, be a good example. So if you want your kids to listen to you, listen to them. You want them to read more, read more. You want them to eat healthier, eat healthier.

10. Memories- The gift we can give our children that will withstand time is a memory. One day when our children are grown and look back on their lives, what do you want them to remember? For me, I want them to remember love, a warm embrace, kisses good night, and waving good bye when they go to class. Reading stories, curled up on the couch, on an overcast day. I want them to remember me making them their favorite dinners, or eating dinner together each night. I want them to remember that I loved them and I always will.

Think about what it is you want your children to remember… What gifts do you want to give them?

I'm sure there are many more I haven't included on this list- I'd love to hear from others on this. What gifts do you want to give your children?

Teach Tolerance

2012-10-04T09:09:00.001-07:00

My son has issues and we are doing all we can to help him become the best he can be. I worry at night about what his future will hold. I worry about what kind of an adult he will become. One thing always makes me believe that he will be okay, his heart. He has an amazing heart. He has compassion and empathy. He cares. He doesn’t litter, because he doesn’t want to hurt the earth or the animals that live on it. If someone is crying he asks what is wrong. If someone drops something, he’ll stop and pick it up. If an animal is lost, he always wants to help. He always has the spirit of giving and helping. He is a good person.

I look at other kids and I wonder sometimes if they are being taught values. I try not to judge but with all the issues Tre has, he still does have morals and values. I think some of the best lessons have been lost in time.

October is national bullying prevention month. The more experience I have with bullying, the more I believe it starts at home. Maybe a parent that doesn’t hesitate to make racial slurs about the neighbors who are too loud, or the family who moved in down the block that has two dads. Maybe it is a big brother or sister that makes fun of the “Spaz” on the bus, the child who had tics he cannot control. Perhaps Gramps says “Look at that slob” when he sees an overweight person. Regardless of where bullying starts, that seed, once planted, is hard to remove. Like a weed that roots itself firmly in the ground, hatred, intolerance, and cruelty are no easier to remove. PREVENTION is the key. I do not believe that all parents want their children to be intolerant. Yet, due to oblivious actions, their children are being predisposed.

Many children, who are bullies, are bullied. The behavior is learned. People used to say “Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me”. This is by far the worst lesson we can teach our children, in my opinion. Words hurt. Words leave scars. Words linger in our mind, long after bruises heal, and blood dries.

There are some things that every child can learn from a young age. Consider these your gift you are sharing with the next generation and hopefully generations to come…

“Think before you speak…”

“If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

“Treat others how you want to be treated.”

Every day lives are lost because of bullying, because of cruelty and hatred. Teach your children that they never know what someone is going through. Something that seems like nothing big to one person may be very hurtful or unforgettable to another. Teach them to reach out to others instead of shutting others out. Most importantly, practice what you preach. Hypocrisy teaches hollow lessons. “What you do speaks so loudly that I can not hear what you say” (Ralph Waldo Emerson).

Catching Up...

2012-09-26T10:37:00.001-07:00

If you noticed, I didn't post much through summer. Those of you in my shoes, probably understand why! It was a long summer and some things changed. At the end of summer (and I mean very last minute) Tre decided he wanted to return to public school. This was about two weeks before school started. So we had a wave of ups and downs. He had anxiety but he was excited. There were lots of mixed emotions and he was a little hard to handle during that period of time. We even sat him down and explained that we wanted it to be his decision and we would support him- and he decided public school was what he wanted to do.

At first I was relieved, I thought of all of the things I could do with my spare time. Both kids in school from 7:40-2? WooHoo! Then reality came around and laughed in my face! We made sure we had the right clothes, cool new shoes, the perfect backpack, and earrings (yes Tre is a cool guy now with his ears pierced), I learned how to shave stripes into the sides of his head, next to his Mohawk... Yes we give him some flexibility in those things because there is really so little he has control over.

So, day one to school started out strong. We were all excited. We were all positive. We left early, we went to the school, and all was going great... Then we saw the front gate, and panic set in. I saw it all over his face, so I was his cheerleader, "You are going to do great, you're going to be fine! You're going to see your friends, and have fun at recess!" Even added in there "You get a break from me!" Then the tears started. I kind of had to pretend it wasn't happening at that point. I was on my own.

So we walked a very excited Dominic to his line number- to wait for his new first grade teacher. I then attempted to walk Tre to his line. That wasn't happening. He crumbled. He fell to the ground (literally). People gawked and stared. It was incredibly uncomfortable. He has done this in Walmart before but not at the school. I didn't care what people thought of me, I just worried that kids would make fun of him. Everyone went to class and there I stood, next to my son- the puddle on the ground.

The principal attempted to come and talk, and if anyone touched him, he'd yank away. He was rapidly going downhill on a meltdown train! It seemed like it was the worst possible scenario. That is until a little gleam of hope came through the grounds, in the form of a man from the district that oversees the Special Ed Department. He happened to be on our campus that morning, and he saw what was going on.

Though none of his efforts were really effective in getting Tre to class, he at least was able to see it. Last year my IEP request was kind of swept under the rug and I struggled to get him to school, to get him to stay, etc. The school this year has more special ed programs, so that meant we could get some more help too!

The first week of school I spent sitting in a forth grade classroom. My 1st grader rapidly grew sad because I'd never seen him go to class, or even seen his classroom. By week two Tre was the big brother who walked his little brother (who was now crying each morning) to class. Tre just took on the helping role and did so beautifully.

So far we have had our RTI meeting and other than a few hiccups, we are making good progress. The school has an amazing school psychologist this year and she has been immensely helpful. I won't say it's all been perfect but it's a much better scenario than we had last year. I think a great deal of it also has to do with having a great teacher this year.

My son's teacher has gone over and beyond to help us. At our RTI meeting he looked at my husband and I and said "I work for you, so if I can help you in ANY WAY, please let me know. I've been in that seat asking for help, I know how hard it is!" Which brought us all a lot of peace. "He gets it!"

Tre's first progress report came home. He isn't doing great. He is below basic in many subjects, but he keeps trying. We do have an incredible struggle with homework, and that is something I'd like to work on modifying more with his IEP. Otherwise, he isn't calling me every day or every other day to ask me to come get him. He is doing very well, in that respect. The school is doing more tests and assessments so we can find more tools to help him in the areas he is struggling.

Most recently, we opted to go Gluten-Free. We spoke with him about it for a while and he agreed that it was worth a shot. He hasn't had gluten in 5 days, he is doing incredibly well. I am seeing a calmer and more reserved version of my child. I hope this is not the honeymoon phase but I see hope, I feel calmer, and like I can relax a little bit. Sometimes it feels like I am in this mode of waiting for the other foot to drop. Those of us who have lived with a child that rages or has meltdowns, often end up with PTSD, it's hard to live in a war zone at times.

Months ago we cut red dye out of his diet and that made a profound difference as well. About a week and a half ago, it dawned on me that one of his medications was pink. I spoke with the pharmacist and just told her he is allergic to red dye. She managed to get the insurance company to approve the blue pills. This means I also don't have to cut 1 pill in half for him (he would take 1/2 in the morning and 1/2 at night), now he gets 1 pill in the morning and 1 at night. His doses are more accurate now, which is a good thing. It's hard to cut a pill exactly in half, even with a pill cutter!

Now that things are calmer and we are into a school routine, I hope to start posting more. I appreciate those of you that are reading our story. I'm not doing this for attention or pity. I write because I want to share my story. I want others to feel less alone, I want to share the things I find that help in case in some way they might help someone else.

Hope you all had a great summer, looking forward to catching up!

Teach your kids to be kind...

2012-05-29T17:39:00.001-07:00

Sometimes things happen that are just so disappointing. After Tre had a little squabble with a neighbor boy a few days ago, he was allowed to play with the understanding that he stay away from that boy. See we found out that day that the kids on the block were sitting together, calling Tre names. They were calling him weird, and dirty, and “the white kid”. So instead of getting mad, he started touching the boy in the arm. Meanwhile another boy is flipping him off with both hands saying “Faggot!”… So the kid Tre is touching gets grossed out by him touching him, and punches him in the chest. Tre snapped and punched the kid in the eye. I can only imagine what it must have felt like in that moment to have everyone calling him names and making a game up of “Don’t let him touch you, he’s nasty”… I tell him always to come home. But what I’m figuring out is that a lot of these kids have targeted him and they pass their time, making fun of him.

Did I run to their parents and tell them all what disgraces to society I felt they were raising? No… I told him he was limited to play with four kids. Two are a brother and sister; the other two are their cousins. Even Dominic plays well with them all.

Well today the boys went to play with these kids; they’re right across the street. We had a bathroom flood, so I agreed to let them play, while I cleaned up the mess. I no sooner get done, sit down, and here comes the big sister of the kid Tre punched the other day.

She starts telling me how Tre is causing all kind of trouble. I ask “what happened? He is supposed to stay away from him?” She said “Well he is playing a few houses down, but he threw a water balloon at my brother.” I must’ve had a “you’re kidding me” Look on my face, because she then says “And he messed up his eye the other day!”

I try to start explaining to her that the other kids have been very cruel to Tre. I told her that her brother had taken a swing at him, and he punched back. I told her that we have told our son not to start a fight but he can stand up for himself. She tells me that she doesn’t know what happened because she wasn’t there. I told her I had talked to some older kids (like 18 and 19) who told me the same story Tre told. Tre’s friends (the brother sister, and cousins) told me the same story too.

I then try to explain to her that the kids peg him because he is different, that he has asperger’s. I look up and her little brother is laughing, and I point it out, I say “See he thinks it’s funny!” and shake my head. She tells me “He just isn’t mature enough to understand!” I ask her if she would prefer I kept him home in a cage. She looked at me funny and said something to the effect of how hard it must be to be his mom…

So I tell her fine. “Look, he isn’t supposed to play with your brother anyway. Since your mom sent you here to talk to me, make sure she understands what is going on, and make sure she tells him to stay away from Tre!” She tells me things need resolved before the problems get more serious, and they have to take things further.

Once I get my kids home, in their rooms… I’m livid at the whole situation. I am a mix of embarrassed, angered, disappointed. The one thing I’m upset with Tre about is we keep telling him to walk away from conflict. Then Dominic tells me, “Mommy, the big girl was calling me a maggot out there and Tre got really mad” (replace the m with an f, and that’s what she called him- Dominic just doesn’t know that word). Then it made sense. He got upset because now they were making fun of his little brother. A five year old! What could he have possibly done to make them have a grudge against him?

I sat here in tears for a while. Here I work my best to teach my child acceptance. I know in his heart he is kind. He will play with a child, no matter what limitations that child has. Yet all these “neurotypical” kids around they end up stealing, lying, calling mean names… It makes me worry about his future. If it’s this bad at nine, how will it be at 12? There are days I know he drives me crazy and I wish sometimes that he were just a “normal kid”, but he isn’t and it breaks my heart to know that he isn’t finding acceptance. I wish these parents could realize for one second how much it breaks my heart to know what their kids are saying to him and what they think of him. Those nasty words he says sometimes? He learned it from them!

I wish I could wave a magic wand and move away to a place where people would be more loving, and accepting. No matter how hard I try I can’t take the place of a friend for my child. Right now he is in his room, because he didn’t walk away. He pushed things farther, and he really should have just come home. But I need the time to sort through this all.

What would you do?

April Showers Bring May Flowers... :)

2012-05-17T11:48:00.003-07:00

So my last time writing was a month ago. What a roller coaster ride we have been on! First, my dad… Well without getting too personal and too detailed, he is gone. Him not living here is going to be better for our family. He had a second heart attack, just two weeks after the first. His mood became far worse and his resentment towards me grew. He became violent with the hospital staff… it just got really, really bad. When he came home, despite trying to act better, he would get very irritated when I would say something. One day I tried to explain to him that he had to accept some personal responsibility for things that have happened and he decided at that point it’d be better for him not to live here. He didn’t exactly leave on the best terms… helped himself to some things, took some things he shouldn’t have, and said some horrible things. But hey, this isn’t going to be a vent session, so I’ll stop there.

Things were really hectic. We went from not knowing if dad was going to be okay, to finding out his heart was failing. Then to find out his condition is bad, but not as bad as we were made to think! I was initially told he could only be released to a skilled nursing facility, and then was getting called to pick him up! I never knew when the phone rang what was going to happen. Meanwhile he would call me from the hospital yelling at me to come pick him up. One day I stood arguing with him in the parking lot at the T Ball field and it was just the worst feeling in the world. There I was trying to watch my son play and couldn’t even do that.

See all the while this was going on, we still had T Ball, and we had school, and well things were hard! I’m very much looking forward to summer break.

I started a new medication to help treat my auto-immune issues and I can’t really say I’m feeling much of a difference. I have heard some people have amazing changes on it, and well… It’s been a month now and nothing major has changed for me.

Now that things are quieting down a little bit, I’m regrouping. When you live with someone you aren’t comfortable with, it is incredibly liberating when you can take your space back. To feel comfortable again, I didn’t realize how much I just stayed back in my room, avoiding conflict. I did some reading on toxic people, and well… it just made sense.

On the other side of things, Tre is doing quite well. We were down to the wire and he had to put in some long hours to complete enough coursework for the year. We started late, so we were a little behind everyone else. But he got his percentages where he needed them and I am so proud of him. We had some rough days, and with my dad being in the hospital, I was back in forth for most of April. We did what we could, when we could. Thank goodness my cousin came to stay with us for a while, he helped so much! But still, there were certain things I needed to wait to do with him, until I could be there. But hey, all is well that ends well.

He finally got to see his therapist again, since things calmed down. She wants to focus on his separation anxiety. Helping him be more independent. I think it’s to a good focus.

I’m playing with the idea of working on my Master’s Degree. It’s still a ways off in the future and there are just sooo many things that are telling me I’m crazy for thinking about it. But I don’t want to regret later not doing it. And it’s not like we have a big support group to help with the kids. So, I’m not sure.

I wish I had some big insightful thing to say to wrap this all up. So much has happened I feel like life just regurgitated 5 years worth of crap in my lap. And I’m slowly working through it. One day at a time… And regardless of everything else, I get to tuck my kids in at night, kiss them, and tell them I love them. That makes it all worth it. And they say April showers bring May flowers...

the calm after the storm

2012-04-12T11:28:00.003-07:00

So, today is my birthday and I was super happy that I got to start my day off with my sister, niece, and new little nephew here! It was so nice to be able to see them, though the circumstances could’ve been better. Isn’t that how it goes though? We go on, wishing we could make time, figure out how to work out a visit, etc. then something happens; a birth, a death, an illness, and we finally make it happen. With gas prices, kids, school, and life getting so busy, we hardly see each other.

My father went in the hospital on Friday, and finally came home last night. I’m glad going to the hospital isn’t on my “to do” list for today. On Easter (Sunday), we had a nice morning with the boys. I had all of the food prepared, started the ham, and jumped in the shower. I got out about noon, got a phone call from the hospital that my dad wanted to see me. I asked the nurse to let him know I was showering then I would be over. My plan had been to finish the food, make him a plate, go visit, then come home and have dinner with the family. Well, that apparently wasn’t going to work for him! So about 10 minutes later, I got a call back from the nurse, apologizing all over herself that he had checked himself out! WHAT?! I was panicked. So Richard took my car to go find him, and I stayed home, incase he got a cab. Well Richard found him first. Dad’s plan was to come home, get his car, and drive off to be alone, and die. He was in a horribly depressed state of mind and I knew that. I wasn’t going to let his state of mind influence this decision. So I told Richard to tell him that if he tried to drive I would call the police, because he was endangering other people at that point as well.

Mind you, all this time he was having an active heart attack! When I was in the hospital the day before, and he took out his oxygen, his levels dropped over 20 points! I was afraid he would just keel over at any point!

So my husband stayed with him and finally convinced him to admit himself again. Except he had to go in through the ER ALL over again. Wait for a bed to open, all over again. Complain about the wait, all over again. Well, you get the drift. All the while he is cursing me for taking him in, in the first place. Swearing he’d never tell me again if he wasn’t feeling well. It was ALL MY FAULT!

I didn’t see my husband until 11pm on Easter night. The kids and I ate dinner, though they didn’t want to. They wanted their daddy. On Monday I went to the hospital with back up! My sister drove down to help me talk some sense into him. Of course the first thing he says is “I could’ve been home for Easter if you hadn’t made me come in here!” I’m surprised I had any tongue left with all the biting I was doing. I have a lot of patience and tolerance for outbursts, I’ve had practice with my son, and I get that sometimes it isn’t easy to control. All the same, there were times I was snapping at him, I was shocked by what he said, and I really wanted to walk away and not look back. The hospital started him on a medication that helped to stabilize his mood, and it was like the clouds parted, the sun shined through, and there was peace.

We had a counselor meet with him. That seemed to help a lot (Well that and the medication). He finally agreed to have the procedure done. Then we got the insurance squared away and he was shipped off to the VA hospital. We went that night to make sure he was okay and to warn the doctor and nurses about his “escape” on Sunday. We encouraged them to keep him especially comfortable. Ultimately he was scared, frustrated, and having really bad anxiety, and he was raging about it. But he did well there, and we were able to head home, knowing he was okay.

So they did the angio and his heart looked okay. They didn’t need to do any other procedures and got him set up on his heart medications, again. We went and picked him up yesterday afternoon. Today he is kind of tired and sad.

I’m sitting here alone in the house, and it’s quiet. I’m bummed my sister and her family can’t be here longer but I really enjoyed having them here. It meant a lot to not feel so alone in all of this. Words cannot describe how horrible he was acting so at least I know someone else saw it and saw how bad it got. I’m tired, I’m relieved.

This afternoon I have an appointment with my Rheumatologist to find out the results of my most recent blood tests. So I’m hoping that goes well.

Ultimately I’m really grateful for my kids, they were troopers through all of this. They are so used to me being here and making sure everything works out. I’m thankful for my husband for being super supportive and taking the time off of work to do all of the things I normally do. I’m thankful that my sister came down to help me with all of this. I’m thankful that my niece gave up her Spring Break to spend most of it sitting in a hospital or a car, and for all the laughter she helped us share! And I’m thankful for my nephew, because well he made me smile with his immense cuteness!

I guess even with as crappy as everything was this week, there still is a silver lining. I’m glad my dad is okay, I’m hoping this encourages him to get some help. I realized that hundreds of miles doesn’t mean I’m not close to my sister and her kids. There were so many good things in amongst the bad. Though I wouldn’t want to have to do this again, the outcome helps to cope with it.

Epiphanies

2012-04-07T06:45:00.003-07:00

Yesterday was a hard day. It was also an incredible learning experience. It is amazing how much perspective can change the way we think about things. People don’t realize this. From one person’s perspective they may see my son as a spoiled, bratty child. Surely, anyone who has passed by us in the grocery store as he sobs and pushes the cart, because he can’t get a toy, has allowed their mind to wander there. Yet those who can see things a little differently realize that every struggle is a learning experience, a lesson in self control. They see that he really is a sick little boy with a mom who is reaching out to try to teach him, instead of punish him.

Yesterday morning my father had a heart attack. Well either in the night or during the day, no one knows for sure. After half an hour of arguing with him, I won and took him to the Urgent Care. When we arrived, they checked him out and sent him to the ER without hesitation. I had the boys with me and I can proudly say that in my haste, the boys handled themselves quite well. They even sat like big boys while I went back and gathered my dad’s personal belongings. It showed me just how much Tre has grown as a person. I was able to count on him to watch over his little brother and not create trouble.

Well, a friend of mine was able to get the boys from me and then I headed over to the hospital. It took me a little while to find my dad, but I did. They had him out in a hall way, hooked up to the monitors. There was a Sheriff guarding a room next to ours. There were people crying, babies screaming, men cussing, it was a rather overwhelming experience. I should probably confess I hate hospitals. Just driving up I felt my breathing change. Yet, because I would never want to be alone in one, and I know how bad my dad’s anxiety is about hospitals, I stayed at his side.

Growing up, my dad was not a happy go lucky kinda guy. He had a temper that he has learned to better control over time, but it certainly is still there. I would be lying if I said it was easy to deal with him. I have seen sides of him that have been hard to forget and forgive. Yesterday I saw glances of that person that shamed a little girl. I felt the little girl inside of me cowering, embarrassed and ashamed. When the doctor came in and said that he would have probably had a better result from his bypass in 2000, had he ate better, exercised more, and not smoked, he wasn’t hearing any of it. First he was rude to the doctor. I was aghast. Then the doctor tried explaining himself again, dad told him to shove it, more or less. Then he rolled over, turned off his hearing aid and said “I’m not listening to this crap!” It was so ridiculous, I almost laughed (not in a haha funny kind of way). I put my hands over my face, and slid down in my chair. There was no rock to crawl under. That little girl inside of me was horrified and terrified. Somehow I felt responsible for his actions. Then he looked at me and snapped “I TOLD YOU I DID NOT WANT TO COME HERE!” So I got up and walked out.

I stood outside the room, in tears. In disbelief really. Through the day I heard him say things like “Just let me die,” “These people are idiots,” all the while I smoothed things over. I explained his behavior to the nurses, told them he had anxiety. Tried to make sure he was comfortable. But when he yelled at me, my compassion about ran out.

I had encouraged them to address his anxiety promptly when I arrived and they had. As I stood there in tears, I put two and two together. His anxiety med was wearing off. After the doctor coming out and comforting me, I went to one of the nurses. I told her that she should do us all a favor and give him more anxiety meds because otherwise things would get more uncomfortable for all of us. She smiled and said “I’m never too old for advice!” Once again the anti-anxiety meds did the trick.

It was about then I started seeing a parallel. Things started making sense and I saw my dad in a new light.

I went outside and called my husband, since there was no cell service in the ER. I stayed out about ten minutes. When I went in they said he’d been asking for me. When I went in he was angry because they had woken him up to take his blood and then just threw his food on his lap (his words, not mine). So I helped him get settled and eat. Of course, it wasn’t good enough.

As I sat there watching him, I saw my son. I saw the way Tre acts when he is scared. Such as the day of the state test. He was terrified and instead of just saying “I’m so scared”, he lashed out in anger. So I just held in my mind that just like the little girl in me who was trying to hide in his room earlier, when the doctor was there, there was a little boy inside of him that was terrified. That was the person I had to talk to, the person I had to address. We all have an inner child. That person who wants to run first when things are scary. It was like seeing Tre sitting there, where he didn’t want to be.

The next time he started to get snappy and tell me he didn’t want to be there, I stood up, went to the end of his bed and told him that he had to stop getting mad at me for bringing him, that I did the right thing. I asked him if he expected me to just let him sit at home and die. I said I could not have lived with myself knowing that I had not done anything. And you know what? He didn’t say it anymore. He grumbled about them taking too long to move him again, and granted it was a long day!

Once they got him upstairs in ICU, there was a huge reduction in sound, and stimuli. It was a much calmer place. Once they got him set up, I went in to say good night and to make sure he was okay. When I went in, he was much more relaxed. He actually thought about me and said “You should go home to the boys, give them a kiss for me.” It was the first time all day he had thought about me. I knew he was in a better place mentally. He was able to let go of his anxiety and fears and be a man again. The little boy finally felt safe.

Thinking back over the years things started to make sense, as I drove home. The dad that lashed out at people as I grew up was really that scared little boy. He was desperate to be heard, so he talked louder. When he didn’t get his way, he would get mad. Then there were other times he handled things so well.

I also saw the amazing similarities between Tre and my father. They are very much alike in the way they handle things. In the same way that I cringed when I knew something was going to upset my dad, I do when we walk by something at the store and Tre’s eyes light up. That “oh boy, here we go!” feeling.

So what do I do with these epiphanies? I don’t know just yet. Today, I’m going to try to balance dying Easter eggs with the kids, and going to visit him in the hospital. I want him to know he isn’t alone there. Also, just like I have had to learn that when Tre acts out, I can’t worry or care what people think of me, I have to do the same with my dad. Much in the same way, I may need to explain to people what is going on- like nurses, or doctors. But it’s not my fault. I’m not responsible for the issues; all I can do is try to understand. If nothing else, my new perspective will at least help me.

State Testing = Mom Fail

2012-04-02T12:46:00.000-07:00

State testing has successfully made me feel like the worst mom ever, a complete failure. I knew Tre had test anxiety but I didn’t think it had gotten this bad! Can you tell it’s been a long day?

Since Tre attends a virtual school, they set up testing locations at local churches, where kids from the community go to take the state test. Tre’s days for testing were today and tomorrow. We talked about it for the last week, preparing for what would happen. I told his teacher about his bad test anxiety and she assured me, all would be well… (this is where malevolent laughter can be inserted).

We pulled up and he was doing fine. We had to go and sign in and things were good. We went and sat in the car to wait until the testing would start. We sat and watched a video on youtube, and he started crying. First indication that he was worried but I didn’t think it would be too bad and honestly I didn’t know what options I had. I asked him what was wrong and he just shrugged. We had a lot of positive talk “You’re going to do fine, just try your best”, so on and so forth. “I’ll buy you whatever you want for lunch!” even entered the conversation. Then the kids all started lining up by grade. I said “oh, come on, let’s go!” As I enthusiastically exited the car, he just sat there, arms folded. So I got out and walked across the parking lot and he finally followed. Slowly he approached where the other kids were, but not without telling me I was a stupid jerk. I told him to be nice and whispered that there were kids around and he didn’t need to talk that way. He replies “Who freakin’ cares?!” overly loud (at this point he is trying to rattle me because he is saying things I don’t want him to say and he is doing it in public, he wants to leave).

The teachers there were super sweet and let me walk him to the door where his testing would be held. He stood against the wall and refused to go in. He was standing there, holding his breath and shaking his head no, he wouldn’t even talk to anyone! So the coordinator approached us and told him “Okay mom can sit in the hall, so you can look out the door and see her!” Nope… at this point I’m 1)embarrassed 2) desperate 3)scared. No words can describe how it feels when you know your child needs to do something but there is nothing you can humanly do to force them.

So the poor teacher had to get all of the other students started as Tre adamantly stood against the wall refusing to go in. So finally the teacher said I could sit in the room! Nope… I went and sat down; finally he walked in, I think hallelujah! But instead of taking a seat, he just slid down the wall and started sobbing. He was even banging his head on the wall. Bless the other kids in the room, because not one starred or said a word. About this point I’m tearing up. The teacher approached me and said that we could go, just let the coordinator know what was going on. She said she had witnessed what had happened and would let the school know that he is not capable of testing at this time. She was ever so kind but her words cut me so deeply. It was a reality check, just look at how sick my little boy is.

So I apologize and she said it was okay, and even hugged me. She said that she just couldn’t let him be a distraction to the other kids. I tried bribing him, threatening him, I pulled out every mommy tool I could think of, and nothing was getting through. So on the way out I talked with the coordinator who incredibly understood and took responsibility for the school not being better prepared to accommodate us. See in the last three months, we’ve been on home school; we’re just starting with a third teacher. They said it’s not normally like that but since it is, no one is really familiar with us.

She said that she would either say “Unable to complete” on his test or set up a one on one testing between him and a teacher at a local library, so he could feel less anxious.

I really tried to well prepare him for this. I was full on crying by the time I got to the car. I feel responsible for him being clingy to me; I worry if I have made it worse or if his disorder is getting worse. I wonder is he trying to control the situation? Or is he just desperate to get out of the situation because his anxiety about it is so bad? In the past he has handled situations like this better but from what I have been told; his bipolar will escalate, because he had such an early onset.

As I’m sitting in the car sobbing, he starts crying, he is soooo sorry and to take him back, let him try again. He started calling himself stupid, and bashing his fists in his head. See I wasn’t angry with him… but he was angry with himself. He wants to be one of those kids that were sitting there taking the test as much as I would like for him to be. Plus once he was crying in front of those kids, the last thing he wanted to do was be stuck in a room with them for three hours.

It’s hard to accept that perhaps this is just the best he can do. I wonder what future he will have if he will always be so dependent on me. What happens one day, when I’m no longer here? Should I help him by letting him avoid stressful situations if possible, or should I push him to learn to deal with them more? I didn’t know what else to do this morning. There was no forcing him in a seat and making him write. Nothing I could have offered or threatened would have changed his response. He was completely shut down.

I am so filled with this flow of emotions that causes nausea in my gut. This clenching fear, and concern. But I kiss him and tell him I love him and that it’s going to be okay. I told him that we just have to try again and at least now they understand how hard it is for him. Sometimes I honestly have no idea what I’m doing! Thanks state testing for reminding me of that.

T Ball and Therapy... what an eventful week!

2012-03-26T09:49:00.003-07:00

So, the last week in recap? We have been a busy bunch! Martial arts practice Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. T-Ball game on Tuesday, practice on Thursday, game on Saturday. Tre is doing amazing at sparring; I wish he could see himself, maybe he wouldn’t resist going so much. He loves martial arts but some days he just wants to do other things. He is amazing though and I would hate to let him walk away from something he is so good at. I feel like he would regret it later.

Dominic loves T-Ball. I watched him out on the field at his game. He was dancing, and flapping his arms. He by far is the most animated player on the team. No, that doesn’t make him the best player but it is really funny to see him out there swinging his hips around, dancing. Except we had to talk to him about pelvis thrusts on the field, those were a little awkward to explain. Thanks to LMFAO and “I’m sexy and I know it…” My oldest thinks that is the best song ever… It’s a case of monkey see, monkey do… and Dominic was the monkey “doing” on the field. A mom looked at me kind of laughing and I had to insert some comment about busting out the dollar bills, she almost fell off the bleachers laughing.

As I sat watching him though, I found myself inspired by him. He was so carefree out there. He was in his own little world, just full of imagination. He was so happy, so alive… I wish I could experience that feeling a little more often.

Then Saturday afternoon, Tre had his first meeting with a therapist. She was wonderful, very pleasant. Bless her heart. Tre had decided before ever stepping foot in the building that he was NOT going to speak to her. And he pretty much kept that vow of silence.

Upon walking into the room, he said “Tell her mom, now!” I took a deep breath when she looked at me with her eyebrows raised, wondering what he meant. As politely as I could, I tried to explain to her that he simply did not want to be there, that he was adamant that he would not be speaking. (She had her work cut out for her).

Before going in for our appointment, he did his best to try to fall asleep in the grass in front of the building. See he’s been doing what I call a passive aggressive technique. Such as right now, he is sound asleep on the couch, because he knows that is the only way I won’t try to get him to do more school work. So that was his attempt at not going into the therapy appointment. Until I promptly shook his little butt awake and made him walk in with me.

She got him to speak no more than a dozen words in all the time we were in there. She had a great approach though. After detailing all of our “Issues” she stopped and said “Okay, now I’d love to hear all the good things about Tre!” which was a strategy I’ve yet to see anyone take. So I made my list for her. He kind of liked it too, I saw the weight lift off his shoulders when he realized she wasn’t trying to make him out to be a monster.

She kind of laughed when she asked me “So, is he oppositional?” I just looked at her like with a big smile and said “Well, yes, you could say that!” At one point he hid his face behind my back, so she couldn’t see him… then he decided to kick back on the couch and put his head in my lap. He got up, took my phone out of my purse and said “I’m bored, I’m calling dad”… ah, the independence.

I explained “No, you cannot call dad, that would be rude, we are sitting here talking…” But he decided to try anyway. How’s that for oppositional? J I’m kind of glad she got to see it though, because so often he is overly composed in these type of settings and I get the look like “What’s wrong with you? You’re son is fine!”

Then randomly mid-chat, he says “I want to go to the game store after this!” I said “No, not today”, which lead to a little debate. Then he wanted a game on my phone, and I finally negotiated and said that if he sat, politely, I would download the game when we were all done. Something she said to me that I needed to hear was “You really have tried a lot, you must get really tired sometimes”, it was validating. I sometimes feel really judged by professionals or worry about what I must be missing.

She did ask him what he liked to do and said that next visit she’d like to play a game or do something with him. They decided to do some origami. He told her about the ninja stars he makes, and she said she would love to learn how to make them. She also told him that she knows how to make a few things, so she could maybe share a few tricks with him. Then she asked him if he’d come back in two weeks, and he said yes!

Hey, it’s a small victory. He said he’d go back! He said he will never, ever, ever go in there alone without me. I hope one day he is more confident but for now I have to just celebrate his willingness to go. I was very relieved when he was agreeable about it. So, it looks like every two weeks I am going to be adding therapy to my to do list. Which hopefully will lead to good things.

Some changes for mommy?

2012-03-21T12:07:00.001-07:00

So as if there isn’t a lot already going on… I have been met with a challenge, I guess you could say. See back a few months ago, while Tre was still in school, I sent in an application for a position as a tutor. The job seemed appealing, decent pay, flexible hours, etc. It was right up my alley; working with kids, being able to work around my kids was a huge plus! Well months went by and I had put the thought out of my mind. Balancing T-Ball, home school, martial arts practice, and well life, has kept me VERY busy as of late.

Well yesterday, out of the blue, I have a message on my phone. I listen and it’s a callback on my application. The man on the other end of the recording is explaining how they have reviewed my application and would like to speak with me more. My mind starts with excitement, THEY WANT ME! Then enters questioning and doubt. What about Tre? His separation anxiety has been really bad. What about my illness? I’m so tired already; can I possibly take on something else? Then I feel frustration because this is an opportunity I’d like to jump on… what to do? What to do?

So about an hour later, while I’m still bouncing from “good idea” to “horrible idea” in my mind, the phone rings and it’s them again! So I answer this time, deciding asking some questions would be best. The guy was excited to catch me and explained more to me. I have to work 8+ hours a week, that’s it, and the pay is decent. I mean we live on what we make now, so if I had even a little extra coming in, we could save towards a house. The guy said I can set my own hours… Wow, I’m getting more excited!

So I spoke with Richard and we agreed that it can’t hurt to try. We’ll be no worse off it I try and it just doesn’t work out. And hey, it might be good for me to get out of the house, alone, once in a while too! Now I just have to learn to trust people a little bit. See I can get Dominic home from school, but I’ll have to ask for help watching them between bringing him home, and getting back from my appointments. I guess that was one of those things looming in the doubting side of my mind.

It’s hard because I went to college, so I could do something with myself. While I justify that my education has helped me become better prepared to help Tre, I still sometimes regret not being able to do more with it. I love being home, don’t get me wrong. I want to be at practices and games, I want to help with homework, and fix booboos. I want to be the one who wakes my kids up in the morning and the one who tucks them in. I had to spend a few years missing out on things and I really didn’t want to have to do that again. But sometimes it’s nice to have an identity outside of being mom.

So, I think we’ve decided that we’re going to give it a go. I explained to Tre that this is how mommy can help to save money towards a down payment on a house, so we can move into a nicer neighborhood… we have goals of more property so we can get a quad, and we can have chickens, and a trampoline and a swing set and he loves all of these things. So when I say that this could help it happen faster, he gets excited.

On the bright side, summer break is just around the corner. I can always pick up a few extra hours, since I am not worrying about lesson plans, or making sure Tre has all his schoolwork done. It will also help me set the pace and figure out what I’m doing!

I don’t’ have the job officially, I still have to do an assessment and background check, but I’m not really worried about those things. It’s just a matter of figuring out if it is actually possible to do the job. I guess it’s time to practice what I preach and just try…

Too Little, Too Late

2012-03-18T18:56:00.000-07:00

I’m revisiting bullying again… Why? Because there is a need for more focus on the topic! According to CNN, President Obama is going to be addressing the issue of bullying and I think it is long overdue, though I’m thrilled to hear that someone is finally talking about it!

I am just sickened right now and while I’m in the “heat of the moment” I’m pulling out my soap box, dusting it off, and stepping up. I just read a news story online about an eighth grade girl who, after years of being the victim of bullying, told her dad good night, went upstairs and hung herself. This was a girl that took her own life because of bullying, or to reiterate what her sister said, the people who bullied her, killed her.

The news story is here http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2112933/Eden-Wormer-Last-words-tragic-schoolgirl-14-hanged-relentless-bullying.html. The police say that the children who were the bullies don’t seem to have pushed it to a point that seems punishable by law. Yet this young girl’s life is gone.

If a parent were verbally pushing their child to a point of hurting themselves, that is considered “verbal abuse”. That is considered just as devastating as physical abuse. So why then, is it so easily dismissed when it’s children being verbally abusive?! Just because a person does not resort to weapons, or hitting, does not make them less culpable of being abusive.

I don’t think anything is going to be changed overnight but until bullying starts being taken more seriously, there are going to be more senseless deaths. We send our children to school, in hopes that they learn to make friends, handle conflict, and adapt to the social intricacies. We expect that the school will provide some type of supervision, and intervene when there are problems.

When Tre was in first grade, a boy slammed his head into the lockers; Tre was terrified of this child. Not much was done to curb this child’s behavior, probably because he was still so young. I ended up having to pull Tre out of public school that year, as well, because his anxiety became so extreme, he would sit and cry every morning.

Fast forward to the next year, the boy told a number of kids that he was going to bring a gun to school. Despite the teacher going to the Principal, nothing was being done! So the teacher wrote a letter to the parents of children in that class, explaining what was going on. While there are confidentiality rules, the thought of this child perhaps hurting one of the students was not something she wanted to be held responsible for. The teacher faced repercussions for violating confidentiality, but little was done to address the bully issue.

It happens every where. It happens in cities, in small towns, in private schools… EVERYWHERE! I was even had a co-worker bully me when I was a bartender, even shoving me to the ground one day at work because she didn’t like what I was wearing. My boss just looked the other way. For weeks I dreaded going to work, seeing her, and having to put up with what she said. I was an adult and I wasn’t sure how to handle the problem. I can only imagine how a child being bullied feels, when he or she goes to the Principal, and the occurrence is minimized.

The old adage, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” is a bundle of crap! Words hurt, words echo in our minds, long after they have been said. Words gouge our heart and bruise our soul. No matter how confident, happy, educated, or loved we are, words can hurt us. We cannot simply love our children enough to keep bullies from hurting their feelings.

According to a study at Yale University, bully victims consider suicide 2 to 9 times more often than non-victims. At least half of all suicides were linked to bullying, according to a study in Britain. “According to statistics reported by ABC news, nearly 30 percent of students are either bullies or victims of bullying, and 160,000 kids stay home from school every day because of fear of bullying” (Bullying Statistics, 2009). Suicide that is connected to bullying includes different forms of bullying; physical bullying, emotional bullying, cyberbullying, sexting, and/or when messages or photos of a person that are suggestive or nude are circulated (Bullying Statistics, 2009).

So each day kids are staying home from school, because of bullies. This opens a whole other can of worms for me. See, right now, schools are really focused on the price tag. Each child, in his or her seat, each day, means money for the school. So each time a child is absent, the school loses that money. I understand the importance of attendance, in relationship to education. I feel, however, there are things that are more important than money. Things like my child’s health, safety, and well-being, be it physical or emotional. Schools are encouraging people to send their children to school, sick or not. Schools even go to the point of demanding parents attend meetings if their child misses too much school. Yet, little is being done to remedy bullying problems. So wouldn’t a logical argument in fact be to address the bullying problem? If there were a 50% reduction in bullying, that means 80,000 more kids would be in school each day, right? Posters like the one below declare “Zero Tolerance” when related to weapons; knives and guns, etc. I think that what is being missed here is that words are weapons too! Let’s add that to the Zero Tolerance Policy!

Right now people across the nation and Washington DC are saying that Obama has bigger fish to fry than the problem of bullying, but while crisis is brewing around the world, he is turning his focus inward. Regardless of your opinion of the President, it is commendable that he is taking the time to focus on the subject. Our kids are the future, they are the leaders of tomorrow, they are IMPORTANT! So much pressure and focus has been put on test scores, schools have kids eating, drinking, and dreaming about tests. These tests create ratings for schools, and that is important! Yet, until now, not much has been done to encourage schools to focus on the important thing, the children themselves! Not everything in life can be based on a test score.

Say a fifth grader gets great test scores in math, is bullied every day at lunch, and kills himself that evening. Is his test score relevant anymore? The school loves the fact of course, that this student raised their average, but I hope his death is regretted for more than just lowering the average. Perhaps if some of the time that was spend pressuring the students to do better on the test, were spent on teaching about tolerance, acceptance, compassion, etc. things would not turn out so dismally. There has to be a balance somewhere. But until there is an effort to find it, nothing will change. I am not, to be clear, putting the blame on the teachers. I know many people who are teachers, and some that have stopped teaching, that are in fact wonderful teachers. However, the teachers are under great pressure to comply with the expectations of the district, and ultimately their hands are left tied. I have heard stories of countless teachers approaching school administration about bullying issues that are virtually ignored.

Undoubtedly, if said student does kill himself, the school will call in grievance counselors. The same children, who tormented and bullied the student, will be able to receive counseling. Things will be put on hold, academically, until the children can cope with what has happened. Does this seem backwards to anyone else?

Until bullying gets taken more seriously, things are not going to change. School policies need to start addressing the issue of bullying before it escalates. Waiting until after the fact, to clean up the broken pieces, is just going to allow for the victim toll to keep rising.

References

Bullying Statistics (2009). Bullying and Suicide. Retrieved March 17, 2012, from http://www.bullyingstatistics.org/content/bullying-and-suicide.html

It's okay to do something you're not good at!

2012-03-17T10:19:00.002-07:00

So today’s T-Ball game was rained out. I think we were all a little relived. We’ve been running around so much lately, it’s nice to spend a rainy day cooped up in the house.

There is a topic I’ve been chewing on a little bit. I have been trying to find the right way to explain it. See Dominic is good at everything. He really is. He reads well, he learns quickly, he is a computer whiz, he beats all of his electronic games. He has great behavior in school, lots of friends, he isn’t shy… he really just is incredibly well rounded. Then we got to T-Ball, and well he just has a lot to learn.

I sat talking with a mom at our first game and she said that she was going to be taking her son to the park to practice more. It seems like some of these kids have been spoon fed T-Ball since infancy. Seriously, they’re like mini-pros! Then there are the kids that are inexperienced, like Dominic. I told the other mom that I’m glad Dominic is not a natural at T-Ball, I’m glad he has to work for it, and I’m glad to see him have to work towards improving himself. Why? Because I think it might give him a little more compassion for his brother.

See lots of things are hard for Tre. There are many things he is very good at; origami, skateboarding, riding a scooter, etc. But there are many things that are very hard for him too. I think this experience of not being naturally good at T-Ball is an opportunity for me to help him understand his brother more, like why Tre doesn’t read so well.

I mean, yes, I want my child to succeed at everything he tries. It tickles me when I hear that he is doing very well at things. But deep inside of my heart, I feel like every child should experience a struggle. I think that parents push their kids towards things they are good at. I think it is equally important to encourage them to keep trying when there are things they aren’t naturally good at. Art, music, sports, and things like being social.

I’m not saying force them to do things they don’t want to do. I really don’t agree with that. But we should encourage them to keep trying, even if it is hard. When I was a little girl, I remember wanting to play softball, so bad! I practiced and practiced. Right before try outs, my dad told me that I wasn’t good enough to make the team, I should save myself the disappointment, and not try. So I didn’t try. I decided at 10 that I wouldn’t be athletic, that it wasn’t my thing. I wish he had encouraged me to at least try. Ultimately, even if I hadn’t made the team, it’s okay! It’s okay to learn from those experiences too! Instead I never knew if I could’ve been good enough, and though I’ve gotten over it, as an adult I vow to not stand in the way of what my children want to do, as long as it is reasonable.

So, even if Dominic really struggles with T-Ball, it is going to teach him (I hope) to understand what it feels like not to be ahead. Yes, we are practicing, yes we would like for him to do well, and at the T-Ball level, he is having a blast, which is what matters most. Though I’m not staying up at night worrying about if he runs to third base instead of first, or to the dug out instead of home plate! He is learning to be a team player, he is learning that he has to practice, and he is learning that it isn’t always about being good at things but about having fun!

Relating and working together

2012-03-14T14:54:00.000-07:00

You know sometimes I get going so fast I catch myself blending everything together. I find myself arguing with my five year old and forgetting what I was saying no about. I find myself walking aimlessly from room to room trying to remember what the heck I went to get to start with! Sometimes I sit back and watch Tre and see him go through the same thing. He gets caught up on what he is trying to do that he can’t focus on anything else. To be honest, I’m very guilty of that myself. Beware of my wrath if you interrupt me when I get caught up doing something! Kind of how I feel about being asked the same question 100 times while I’m trying to write this! J

I have found systems that help me; hanging my car keys from a hook or placing them on the book shelf by the front door. God forbid I forget to put them one of these places, because then I am left scrambling to find them! I hang my coat on a nail in the same spot every day.

I put Tre’s pills in a container for Sunday through Monday, that way it doesn’t creep up on me that we are getting low. I buy two boxes of dishwasher detergent and dish soap, so we don’t just run out. I plan ahead to prevent myself from having the last minute anxiety of “when am I supposed to go get that?!”

You know I’m trying to get Tre to use tools like that. I want him to find things that he can use, to prevent a break down, to minimize anxiety, and hopefully to help him have a better day. The first thing we did was put together a snack box for the back of the car. There are very random, not necessarily all “healthy” but dye-free items that are appealing to him. When we are at a T-Ball game or practice, going somewhere, or even just at the park and he gets hungry, the box is there, I even have box juices in there. Sometimes I rotate what’s in there and put little things that will be surprising to him. It helps!

I wonder sometimes if I’m not more like him than I realize and I just have adapted more. I don’t like when things don’t go as planned. I panic when the unexpected happens. I’ve had to really work hard to stop having anxiety attacks. I close my eyes and push the pain (usually a headache) away from myself and I’ll be darned if it doesn’t work. Granted his issues go beyond mine but I guess I just can relate to him on some level. So I’m trying to help him see my weakness and what I do to help make myself stronger in that sense. I plan dinners out for the week, I try to get as much done ahead of time as I can, so I have time for those “we have a project due tomorrow” nights, or time to enjoy the nights that everything is done and I can just sit back and relax (though those could happen more often!).

Today I made Tre a print out of everything he had to do for the day. I made print outs of each assignment as well. I gave him the stack. He found that the decreasing stack was encouraging. He started counting how many pages of work he had to complete. Despite a few hiccups in our day, we finished our whole workload by 2:05 and he is now able to go outside and enjoy the fresh air and sunny day. It was calling to both of us. Perhaps we've found another tool to keep the day from being too overwhelming for him. He had some tangible sense of what he was responsible for.

When we both started getting a little overwhelmed with school… (Him not wanting to read, and me not sure what to say short of threats, that don't work, to get him to) I said “Okay I need your help with something!” So I took him in the kitchen, we peeled probably two dozen oranges and proceeded to juice them. He got to do some of the juicing, we worked together on peeling, and afterwards enjoyed some yummy juice. Then he sat down on the couch to do “share reading” usually I read a few paragraphs, he reads one. By the time we were done reading, I went to get the assessment work, and came back to a sleeping kid.

See back to the whole me panicking when things don’t go as planned; I have a hard time when he starts to have a meltdown about school. My mind races, I worry that I will let him fall behind, that I won’t be a good enough teacher, that I am not giving him all he needs working with him… Then I have to just stop. Because if I don’t stop, I get irritated, and frustrated, and sometimes I lash out at him, when pleading doesn’t work anymore. Ultimately I have to remind myself that he is “getting” more now than he was before. He understands more, he is growing so much. Sometimes he just needs a break! And that is why this is so much better for him than public school.

While he was sleeping, I did print outs of paperwork I’ll need in the next week or so. When he woke up, we went to get Dominic. When we came home, he went out to play a few minutes on his scooter, then he came inside, finished history, and art, and he was done! He just needed a break and really so did I.

March Madness!!! Ah ha!

2012-03-12T10:15:00.000-07:00

March Madness, how could I have forgotten?

So Friday night was rough for me. The Saturday came and we had Opening Day for T-Ball. Our team was able to raise some money, and the kids had a lot of fun. Dominic is feeling better and looked oh so cute running around in his uniform and baseball cap. And Tre, Tre had fun, running around and playing with other kids. He did keep randomly talking to people about off the wall things, but hey I can live with that! He is so full of energy right now that if I can’t find ways to properly channel it, it becomes negative energy. The problem is, this energy does not help when it comes time to sit down and do schoolwork either. So we do some work, go for a walk, do some work, make origami, do some work, listen to music… so it ultimately takes us two times as long to finish, but hey, we’re getting it done!

Sunday morning, I had to take Dominic bright and early for his team pictures. We left at 8:30 and didn’t get home until around 10. I let him play with all of his teammates after pictures and just sat back and relaxed. It was lovely. The weather warmed up and it was just peaceful.

When I came home, Tre was up. He had showered, got dressed, and even brushed his teeth. (That’s big for him to take personal initiative on those things and not to fight when he is asked to do them). He was super eager to share with me the good he had been doing. I just love that. I make sure to praise him every step of the way. Then he said “Did you go look in the bathroom yet?” I said “no…” he expressed some urgency in the matter, so I went to see what he was talking about. There it was:

I stood there for a minute, just smiling to myself. See this is something I do for them, if I am leaving for any period of time, or sometimes just because. I use a dry erase marker and leave notes on the mirror. I guess somehow he just sensed I needed to be reminded he loved us. (and no, I haven’t wiped it off!)

Then the pieces all started coming together, the dots all start to connect. It starts with him waking up going 100 mph before I can even open my eyes. He carries this momentum throughout the day. Rarely slowing down. It swings from “happy” to “angry” with the bat of an eye. But regardless he goes at it, full speed! There isn’t much to say or do. I wonder “Is he unstable”, “did he eat something with red dye”, “did he take his medicine?!” It took me until today to remember, yikes, it’s nothing other than March Madness!

The time change, the weather change, it all has been shown to effect the moods of bipolar kids! There is the September Slump and the March Madness. And as crazy as it sounds, it explains his mood, so precisely!

So you can safely assume I won’t be cleaning my bathroom mirror for a few weeks. Just gotta make it through March! J Leaving it there gives me something solid, something to look at when he is adamant that he hates me! Well and if he gets mad enough at me to erase it, I have a picture too!

Confession time

2012-03-09T20:09:00.002-08:00

Confession time…

It’s been a little rocky the last week. Having Dominic home sick, has made it a little more challenging to balance schoolwork for Tre and he has missed martial arts practice, because he refuses to go with anyone other than his dad or me. I’ve been cooped up at home with a sick kid and Tre and that has been a challenge. So as much as I like to say that I see the good, I decided making some confessions would be fair for everyone. First, I have to say my fatigue is hitting hard this week, and that always throws me for a loop. It leaves me praying that I don’t backslide into months of being stuck in bed. Because, honestly that just will not work!

Before practice, Tre got to go to the skate park with a friend. We shouldn’t have let him, he came home tired and out of his routine. He didn’t want to go to martial arts practice. He threw a huge fit. My husband said he was going to be in the car until 4:15, if Tre wanted to go. If he chose not to go, he would not be able to play the rest of the weekend. Well Tre had a huge, ugly, name calling meltdown. He was loud, threatening, and mean. When Richard went out to the car, he started panicking. I said “can I help you get ready?” and he damn near ripped my head off saying “YES!” He was so focused on other things; I was nothing more than a particle of dust floating in his world at that time. But yes, I helped him get ready. He was there on time, and he did very well.

Once they got home, he was happy again. I had to go pick some things up for dinner. I sat in my car and cried for a few minutes, before going in. I felt like a victim today. I felt like I wanted to be a bird and fly away, I felt like I didn’t matter, I longed for someone to be nice to me… I felt sorry for myself. I got burned out today on being snapped at, being called names. When he came home feeling better, I wasn’t quite so ready to snap back into happy mommy mode. Usually I do alright at this. Today, not so much. I guess between the sick, miserable, five year old, and that I just hit my limit.

I made dinner, disgruntled, and I didn’t even want to sit by him, but I did. I was just quiet. Angry at myself the whole time for how I was feeling. After dinner, I opted to take the dog for a walk. By myself. I got halfway down the block before he ran to join me. He called “MOM WAIT!” and he walked with me. I guess it wasn’t so bad.

It is hard to remember that it is a symptom when things happen and not just my child. Sometimes it’s hard to decipher if he is just being incredibly rude (which I think sometimes it is) or if it is just a result of his disorder. I do know that yelling at him, or punishing him is not effective. I know I have to wait until he is calm and try to relate to him. Then he actually gets what I’m saying. But sometimes it is really, really hard.

It really is one day at a time. I celebrate small victories, like him finishing all of his school work in less than three hours today. I am so proud to hear how well he did sparring today at practice. I love that he is so concerned about me, that he will not let me walk around the block alone. But I stood there in the kitchen in tears, with my husband asking “What’s wrong?” and I felt ashamed to admit that I had just had enough today! I just couldn’t bounce back today. I felt ashamed to feel this way, but it didn’t make the feeling go away. So, here I am writing it out. I’m sharing. I’m hoping that I can maybe make someone else feel better tonight about having similar feelings, or that maybe someone out there will say “I understand”… understanding is such a beautiful thing. Something I lack all too often in my day to day life.

So that is my confession for tonight. I’m just distancing myself, taking a little mommy time out because sometimes that’s all I can do. I think I’ll head to bed early tonight, so I can try to be ready for what tomorrow brings.

more on bullying, what to do?

2012-03-09T16:18:00.002-08:00

So, as a parent we want to protect our child in every way possible, at least I believe that most parents do. So what can be done when your child is being bullied? Sometimes the bullying can be so severe that a child may require counseling. What do you do when your child comes to you and reveals something is hurting them? What do you do, when it feels as though your hands are tied?

For us, we opted to put our son in martial arts. This not only increased his self confidence but it gave him a means to stand up for himself. The class we picked was chosen because of his instructor’s philosophies and teaching methods. My son is taught to avoid fights at all costs but how to defend himself, if need be.

This decision came to us after we had lived here a few months. My son was invited to a birthday party. We were elated! Of course we allowed him to go, it was two blocks over and we told him if he had any problems to just run home. But we had met the parents who seemed nice enough.

About an hour later, one of the older neighborhood kids, who turned out to kind of be an angel in disguise, a few times, brought Tre home. He said that the boy who had invited him over and his big brother had Tre against a wall, kicking him because Tre wouldn’t go back to his house and get them a soda. I guess mom had told them no more soda, so they tried making Tre stop play and go back and get them one. When he wanted to keep playing, they beat him up. He was only 7!

I should also say that we are desperately trying to save up our money to buy our own home. Tt isn’t like there were warning signs when we moved in. Most parents don’t realize what a neighborhood will be like, until there are already problems. I know my neighbor desperately wants to move as well but with how much it costs to move, to put a deposit on a place, etc. It can be impossible to just up and move. So what can you do, if you can’t just leave?

There are other steps that parents should take, especially if the bullying is going on at school. I started doing research for a friend and found some fantastic resources. I think the key is to try to establish a positive working relationship with the school, the Principal, and the teacher or teachers involved. Make sure your child documents everything that happens, with details about who, what, when, why, and where…

Try to keep things positive, if possible. Additionally, know your rights. Don’t walk in blindly, as many people do. Make sure the school knows that you hold them accountable for what happens while your child is in their care. When you request something from the school, make it in writing.

Try not to create any enemies but when it comes to your child’s safety, it may be necessary to work your way up the chain of command. If things don’t smooth out after meeting with the Principal, contact the school board, contact the district, contact the superintendent. Should none of these paths create any change, you can contact the US Department of Education, who will do further investigations into the matter.

After reading different bits and pieces of advice, I also think it is important to inform the school that you do not want your child talking to anyone without you or a reliable adult present. If the school wants to address an issue with your child, it should be done with you in their presence. Then there is no trying to fill in the blanks about what someone said. And no questionable accusations can be made.

This website, http://stompoutbullying.com/adults_page.php, has wonderful resources for the parents.

I don’t think this is something that will change overnight. I think that the more people who become involved in bettering our neighborhoods, schools, and communities, the more good will come. I believe that many of these kids do not realize the harm they can inflict by being a bully.

If the bullying is extreme or occurring outside of school, I think it is important to report the information to the authorities. The key, like with many things is not giving up. Keep going until someone is willing to help you. Even go as far as to contact local media, see if someone wants to do a story on the news, that might get the ball rolling!

Information provided from the following:

© STOMP Out Bullying™ 2007 - 2011
www.stompoutbullying.org
A Love Our Children USA Program ©1999 - 2011 www.loveourchildrenusa.org

Bullying

2012-03-07T14:49:00.002-08:00

Today I am going to start talking about a topic that is a very sensitive subject to me. Bullying. In my heart I have compassion for children who are bullies. I understand that in order to become that person who is mean, vindictive, harsh, and cruel, they must somewhere in their own lives be subjected to similar treatment. The expression “bullies bully” is very accurate. However, when your child is being bullied it can be hard to find compassion for the person causing your child so much pain. I also believe that if the bullying does not get addressed, that the bully will not simply outgrow the behavior. Bullying can lead to abuse, to hate crimes; it can escalate to irreparable levels.

It isn’t enough anymore for kids to pick on what shoes a kid wears or the brand of jeans. For my son, he first was made fun of for being what the neighborhood kids call “the white kid”. After weeks of hearing it, he decided to lash back, with an inappropriate, yet understandable response. Of course then he was called racist. And he was nearly jumped.

A few months ago, my son was out playing in front of our house on his skateboard. A group of kids walked by, I say kids but two of them were six foot, one was my height and two were younger. They were all bigger and older than my son though.

Well they told him he had to give them his stuff. He said “NO!” So one of the kids shoved him down in the dirt and asked him “What are you going to do about it little white boy?!” He couldn’t get up and a neighbor started to walk over and the group of kids took off running. My son jumped up and ran inside terrified. My husband took off after the kids and we’re probably all lucky he didn’t actually find them. I called the police and filed a report. To me, this goes beyond bullying. This was assault, this was attempted robbery.

Not one of the kids on our block would tell the officer who these kids were by name, but they referred to them as the “Dirties”. These kids walk around and beat people up and steal their stuff. So the officer told us to watch out for them, get their names, anything we could, and let him know. That was over Thanksgiving break. The first day back to school, we were in the Multi Purpose Room (I volunteer with Kindergarten students in the morning). Tre came running up to me, pale, like he had seen a ghost. “Mom, it’s him! It’s him!” I wasn’t even sure what he was talking about. So I got him calmed down and asked him what he was talking about. Turns out that the kid who had shoved him down in the dirt was a fifth grader at the school! My heart sunk. Here I had been assuming it was an older kid, and then I wondered how someone so young had learned to be like that.

It only took me a while to find out what the kids name was and his reputation. I get it, he has a rough life. I just can’t justify the terror that my son lives with now. At home we had to tell him if he saw the kids to run. But at school he was supposed to just mesh with them? The school said they would keep the kid away from my son but it only could last like a week. Then he was allowed back in the MPR for breakfast. My son’s anxiety sky rocketed.

We would make it maybe one or two days, then I’d get a call from the school that he was in the office crying or “sick” in the nurse’s office. No one knew quite how to handle him, so I’d go in and try to get him to stay. I even sat in his class with him, to try to help him feel safe. He was constantly in fight or flight mode. He wasn’t learning anything; he was too busy worrying about how to get out of there! So his grades dropped even lower, his confidence dwindled, his sparkle disappeared. I had attendance breathing down my neck that the district was going to come down on me if he didn’t start staying more often. I didn’t know what to do.

One day he finally said “if you leave me here, and one of them (meaning teacher/Principal) touches me, I will hit them and then I will be expelled, and at least I never have to come back…” How was I supposed to leave him like that? He would hurt not just someone else but himself. He was terrified.

It wasn’t until I finally pulled him out of school that he told me that this kid and the kids group of friends were starring at him in the hallways, and making little remarks, whenever they had a chance. Some of the kids that are friends with him have a group, much like a gang. They all wear these same color t-shirts. They all have bad attitudes.

A few weeks ago, my son and his friend were playing in front of my house. My son ran inside, terrified. One of the kids from this “group” had attacked his friend; his friend was laying in the street, in the fetal position. I yelled for my uncle to help me with him, while I ran to tell my son’s friend’s dad what had happened. Once again, the police were called, and we found out that the police actually have identified this specific group of kids as a gang.

Where is the line drawn? At what point does someone take action? The school didn’t want to get involved with it. I sit back and I read stories; a kid in third grade brought a gun to school and shot a fellow third grader. We cannot simply dismiss the actions of these kids because they are young.

I was actually thrilled to read a story from Florida about three students who were facing charges for a hate crime after bullying and physically hitting an autistic child on a bus. I think that a few things need to be taken a little more seriously by more schools…

1) Racial discrimination is racial discrimination, if a child is being made fun of because of the color of his/her skin, it is racial discrimination.

2) Bullying against children with disabilities. Kids think it’s funny to pick on kids for being “stupid” or “retarded”, those words leave scars deeper than anyone knows!

I know this. Behind suicides, behind kids bringing weapons to school, there is usually a story of torment. A story of a child that was picked up, ridiculed, made to feel worthless by his or her peers. And while that doesn’t justify the end result, it does give some indication into what is wrong with our society, or at least our school system. Bullying needs to be addressed. Just because a child is annoying, talks too much, or a little different doesn’t give other kids the right to be cruel to them.

If more effort were put into handling school conflicts and bullying, maybe there would be fewer school tragedies. What about kids who turn to drugs and alcohol, to escape the torment? I read in our school’s discipline policy that the student who is the victim of bullying would be granted permission to transfer to another school, why is he or she the one to be punished? For us, we opted to pull our son out of school, but not all parents have that luxury, if you want to call it that.

So what can be done? I’m sorry but no matter how good your home life is when there is a piece of your life that is completely out of array, like school, it affects your entire being. I found a website for a foundation called Stomp out Bullying. It does have some fantastic resources. It talks about what to do if your child is being bullied, who to talk to, etc. It acknowledges how seriously bullying should be taken. I will be talking more about that in my next blog…

2012-03-06T19:05:00.000-08:00

Today, I am taking a break from blogging. My poor little guy is sick with an upper respiratory infection and pneumonia. His fever almost hit 104 today. He is also throwing up :(... So I am off to take care of him and hopefully tomorrow I can have more to say! I wish you all a wonderful night!

We can't forget Dominic, though he is sometimes overlooked...

2012-03-05T18:22:00.000-08:00

All too often in life we overlook the things that are easy. The things that don’t take a lot of effort, we just make part of our routine without casting too much reflection. In some ways, I have to sadly confess I do this with Dominic. He is such a smart, sweet, and understanding boy. That all too often, I think I kind of take it for granted. I take time every day to tell him how wonderful he is and how much I love and appreciate him. Yet I realized in my blog I haven’t told you much about him. So here it is.

I often wonder how two children raised by the same parents, growing up the same way, can be so different. My boys are like night and day; Dominic is patient, loves reading, video games, and playing pretend. Tre is fly by the seat of his pants, he has incredible focus with martial arts, he loves action; skateboarding, his scooter, jumping his bicycle, and he is a very literal person. I remember when Tre’s pet guinea pig died he was only four. I thought he would fall apart, but he soberly looked at me, he nodded and said “it’s okay mom, everything dies!” Shockingly, this was his same response at six when one of my grandmothers passed away and the year later when my other grandma died. He seems aloof to death, unless I mention the fact that one day I will no longer be here.

Dominic is my softy. If I speak too firmly, which I tend to after a long day with Tre, he will cry. I end up sitting on the floor, scooping him in my lap, and talking to him. I rub his back and apologize. I guess we all suffer from PTSD a little around here.

Dominic has a knight in shining armor complex which can be sweet and dangerous. The sweet side is that little man knows just what to say to make me smile. He tells me “I love you in the whole wide world” which is his response to me saying “I love you to the moon in back”, I’m not 100% sure what he means but I know he means it from the depths of his heart, and it makes me smile. Dominic also tries to slay the dangerous Tre dragon in the midst of a meltdown when Tre lashes out calling me “Stupid” or tells me he hates me. Not just once have I caught him charging out of the corner of my eye, only to tackle his brother. It’s no small feat for a five year old to take down a seething nine year old mid-meltdown. It also doesn’t help fix anything but his efforts are valiant.

I had Dominic’s conference with his Kindergarten teacher today after school. She said he is just wonderful. She said he just seems to know what to say. She wants to start writing down the sweet things he says, because somehow he just says them at the right time. She said he is like this not just with her, but with his classmates as well. He is encouraging and kind when they don’t understand something. I mean his grades are great, he’s doing fantastic, but to know I’m raising such a compassionate, empathetic young man, means the world to me.

I worry sometimes that he will carry the scars, not physical ones, but those left by a brother who can’t bite his tongue. I worry sometimes he will learn behaviors that are not appropriate. I am grateful for being able to rely on him. Every time Tre starts to fall apart, I ask him “can you please go play in your room?” And he waits for the storm to pass, before he even attempts to come back out. He is wise beyond his years, and he makes my life easier. He has a right to act out, no one would blame him for talking poorly of his brother, or lashing out that things “aren’t fair”, but he doesn’t. So, what does he do?

He is the clown of the family. He is always making little jokes, he is quite funny. He thinks a raspberry is the answer to a question he doesn’t know how to answer (once again pretty funny), he likes to stand at t ball practice and admire the way the moon is out in the blue sky. He corrects me and tells me “it may be a falcon” when I say I see a hawk flying overhead. He does his homework without being asked to, and then asks if he can do more! He likes to think of others. He makes me feel like I must be doing something right.

I love both of my boys, so very much. Tre even on his worst day, is one of the best things that ever happened to me. And Dominic, he is the other. My world quite literally revolves around these two little boys. My hope for their future is that they can find a way to stay close. Dominic always tells Tre “when we grow up, you can live at my house Tre, okay?” and I hope that if need be, it works out that way. Just this morning, as I was getting ready, I heard Dominic ask Tre to read him a book. Dominic is almost four years younger than Tre. I sat and listened while he helped Tre with the words he didn’t know, so Tre could read him the story. Those were some happy tears.

I just hope that they can continue to find reasons to relate to one another. The love they share is really special. They fight a lot, but I think that’s a typical sibling thing. I am just amazed at the resilience this little person has, and how big his heart is. Maybe having a brother like Tre has helped shape him into a loving and forgiving person. I sure hope so.

Sometimes little steps are really HUGE feats.

2012-03-04T09:26:00.000-08:00

Okay I confess there are times I am overly protective of Tre… Not just of him but of what could go wrong, if he should happen to have a meltdown and the person he is with doesn’t know what to do. I suppose parents of a diabetic child or an asthmatic child might have the same concerns. Will the other parents remember he needs to take his medications, will they understand if he doesn’t answer their questions the way a “normal kid” would, should I send a handbook? (just kidding on the last one).

I don’t want him to be subject to the often harsh judgment of others, nor do I want someone to accidently push him too far. He does go to play at friend’s houses and kids do come over here. Fortunately he is able to “hold it together” when he goes to other people’s houses. When he senses he is getting worked up, upset, over stimulated, etc. He leaves and comes straight home.

I have been accused of keeping him in a bubble of sorts, and I will admit that I have at times done just that. I think all parents do though, maybe the kid down the street knows a little too much about girls, so we don’t let the kids play alone together. Maybe the boy at school cusses a lot, so we are reluctant to let them get too close. It’s hard to know when to let go and when to hold on tighter, for every parent.

Well Tre has had some good friends over the years, yet in all this time he would never even go on a play date alone. He was always too scared to be away from me for too long. The background on this can probably go back to when he was four and I had to call the police because he was missing… I had allowed him to play right outside the manager’s office at our apartment complex with some of the young kids who were sitting there. Our complex was gated in, and was a pretty safe environment. I had been called by the office manager and he begged me to let him play for the few minutes I was inside, so I did. I told him I would be inside if he needed anything. I even checked on him. I was in there five minutes, tops. I went back out to go home with him, and he was gone.

I searched every where. The kids he had been with were swimming with their uncle and he said he hadn’t seen Tre. I thought maybe he was hiding in the bushes, so I walked the whole complex, finally starting to scream his name. I desperately asked everyone I saw if they had seen him. We had a pretty tight knit community and most of us knew one another. I went back to the office, asked if he had gone in looking for me. He hadn’t. My heart sank. People started helping me look. Finally the office manager took the master key and started going apartment to apartment, if no one answered, she opened the door and called for him. I went out to my apartment, to see if he had got mixed up and went there, nope. I remember standing in the middle of the grass area in the center of our complex and figuring out what people mean when they say their world was spinning. Mine was, I didn’t know where he was, I could barely hold Dominic I was shaking so hard, and to top it off, I didn’t even know my husband’s new work number… And I thought “How on earth am I going to tell him I lost Tre when he gets home?” Then my mind drifted to where he might be, what might be happening, was he okay? I have never been so scared in my life. Then I had to pull myself back together, I had to do something.

So I went back to the office and called 911- I described what happened, what he was wearing “he has on a little plaid shirt, long sleeve, button down, it’s blue and black and white, he has on blue slacks, blue sketchers that light up blue and red when he steps, he calls them his “Police shoes”, and a little silver police badge on his front pocket…”

The 911 operator asked me questions and I couldn’t believe this was all happening. About that time, someone yelled “She found him!” I told the operator, he said “go make sure it’s him and that he is okay, then let me know”. I ran out saw it was him, and told the operator, hanging up quickly. I ran back outside and the office manager who had been carrying him, set him down, and he ran to me. He was crying, terrified, and so was I! I scooped him up and turned around to find the two police officers who had been dispatched. Then we had to piece together what had happened, and exactly where he had gone. From the time I discovered he was missing, to when I had him back in my arms almost an hour had passed. Though it felt like an eternity.

Long story short, he had made his way over by the gate, which led out towards our apartment. A neighbor of ours who was always drunk told him that I had been called in to work and he told Tre that I wanted him to go back home with him.

So Tre followed him, in five minutes, I could have lost him forever… He took Tre home and a woman staying with him gave him milk and cookies. He asked the man to call me and he said he didn’t have my number. So Tre told him to call the office lady, because she had babysat him before, the man said his phone didn’t work. He asked him to take him to the office, the man said “no”.

The office manager went to his apartment as she worked her way through all the units. She opened the door and Tre automatically called out to her, crying hard, he was terrified. She pushed past the man, grabbed him, and ran back.

The cops took me aside and told me that it would be very hard to do, but I had to get him to talk about what had happened. We had to ask him, without suggesting anything. “What rooms did you see?” “Did you play any games?” “Did he take you to the bathroom?” These were really hard questions to ask without getting emotional, praying and hoping that the answer was “No”… and thank God nothing had happened. Aside from being utterly and completely traumatized.

The police went to speak with the man, who had only recently gotten out of jail. They said while his house was disgustingly dirty, that there were no charges that could be pressed. So for weeks, I locked us up in our apartment. I was terrified something bad would happen. I felt like I had gotten so lucky to get him back safely that I didn’t want to take any chances. Did I contribute to his anxiety about being away from me? Yes, I probably did. But wouldn’t anyone who had been through something like that do the same?

So today, I am celebrating growth, for both of us. In the last month he has had two sleepovers, at other people’s houses. He is getting more confident about being away from me, and I am getting more comfortable with him going, maybe even trusting him a little bit. Of course the houses are right down the street from ours, so if he did need me, I am just a doorbell ring in the middle of the night away. Before any time someone mentioned spending the night, he would instantly say no, without thought. The first sleepover, a few weeks ago, completely caught me off guard. When he expressed his want to go, I gently encouraged him; it was such a huge accomplishment for him! Neither time has he had to come home. I don’t see him until about 9 the next morning. Then he is rip roaring to go back and play more. I guess it’s a sure sign he is growing up. Well maybe we both are.

The day my life changed forever

2012-03-03T20:00:00.000-08:00

About ten years ago, something happened that changed my life forever. I mean we think at 18 we have had “life changing experiences” but really, I hadn’t! I had been with my boyfriend for seven months and it occurred to me that I was late. We were living together and madly in love, of course. We were so young, so naïve, and so happy with each other. We worked together, that’s how we met. So we lived together, we went to work together, we ate lunch together, we were with one another all the time.

April 20^th, 2002, I remember that day; we picked up a pregnancy test and were kind of joking about what we would do, as though it couldn’t possibly be positive. We discussed the things that we would want in a child; confidence, passion, the ability to speak him mind… We were both usually quiet, meek, and easily shut up. We wanted more for our child, should we be having one. (We never once said anything about agreeable or understanding).

Well we went home, and I peed on the stick, while he paced the living room floor. I sat there thinking it would be negative; the world would go on as I knew it. A few minutes passed, I looked at the test, and there they were two lines. I remember him popping his head in and asking me what the test said, I held up the test crying, and all I could say was “Two lines”. He was like what does that mean? I handed him the directions! I sat back, apprehensive, terrified of what reaction he would have, what was going to happen next? Just eight days before I had turned 19.

I looked at him and asked “What are we going to do?” and with the biggest smile ever, my now husband said “We’re going to have a baby!”… And proceeded to run in the other room and call his mother before I got a chance to catch my breath! So okay then I was terrified on a whole other layer, “What would his mom say?!?” Luckily for us, she was incredibly kind about it!

I was 19 and I was determined to be a good mom. I knew things were going to be hard, I knew being a parent was no walk in the park. I worried about potty training, and teething, what about colic? The thought of any type of disorder, or ailment never once crossed my mind. I just knew that deep down inside I wanted one thing, and that was to be a good mom.

I talked to my grandma shortly after; afraid she would be ashamed of me. She told me she loved me and that if she could start a family so young, she knew that I would be able to do so as well. It gave me perspective, not many people in this day and age were having kids right out of high school, but there I was. And she had done the same; it gave me so much hope. I decided I was not going to let my young age compromise my son’s childhood.

From the day I found out I was pregnant, my life has taken on such different meaning; I became a mom, then a wife. I learned so much about myself and my husband. We had another child, we made decisions based on our children, no longer just on ourselves. That's why that day, that I found out I was pregnant will forever be such a life changing day for me.

He was such a beautiful baby boy, he had the chubbiest cheeks, and the most beautiful blond curls, really, ringlets of golden sunlight hung from his head. I was his everything, although his first word was “dada”. I wanted the world for him. My husband and I took turns going to college over the years, working some really horrible jobs, just so I could be there most of the day for him. When I was home, he was my world. I never in all those moments, each cherished second, realized there was anything wrong. But hindsight is 20/20, isn’t it?

I thought my son had hung the moon, I really did. I still find myself in awe of him; skateboarding down the street like he is the conductor of a great symphony, mastering a pogo stick in a day, how naturally he came by martial arts. He is still to this day amazing to me.

Things get rough, some days they absolutely, well to borrow a word from him, suck. But to be honest, and very honest, I would not change a thing. That person I was 10 years ago had no idea I’d be sitting here today blogging about the struggles of having a child with special needs. But I know she would be proud of me too and happy for the decisions that I made. And honestly, I’m glad for all those years I was able to go on not realizing there was anything wrong.

Brutal honesty about the harder times

2012-03-02T06:08:00.000-08:00

I was reading through blogs like mine, finding some peace in the stories of other people. I came across this blog called “Why I Hate my Bipolar Child”; the author goes by Hells Bells. To be honest, my eyes nearly popped out of my face, how on earth could someone say this? But of course I was intrigued and had to spend the next half hour or so, checking out this mom’s story. After reading her posts, I realized she was not a mean person or a bad mom; she was just honest, brutally honest. Because yes, there are those times you are so overcome with the stress, anger, fear, and confusion, being the subject of abuse and rage that you do deep down inside somewhere want to just give up. I remember when my son’s symptoms started to show up, I fantasized about getting in my car and just driving away, I was afraid I was somehow ruining him and maybe running away would be better for both of us… It’s hard to admit, but that’s what this blog is about right, making people feel less alone. So for those out there dealing with the guilt of sometimes wanting to jump ship, NO YOU ARE NOT ALONE!

Surely, if a man treated me the way my son has, I would have kicked him out, or left, with no forwarding address. It is comparable to living with the cycle of violence. My son will have a major meltdown, he will call names, push me, be forceful (though he refrains from punching, kicking, and biting now). He will say some of the meanest things I’ve ever heard, leaving me to wonder where on earth he heard such things… Then maybe twenty minutes later, maybe two hours, maybe two second, depending on the day and his stability, the clouds part. And whatever was just happening, seems like a far distant memory, and the son who just called me the dumbest person he’s ever met, is not understanding why I don’t want to sit and cuddle. Seriously. Inside I feel like I’ve been attacked with a cheese grater. My stomach in knots, my heart is in pieces, and he looks at me with those puppy dog eyes, like a dog who has just been kicked when I say “No way, I need a few minutes to myself…” And that’s when I realize something is off.

That’s when the questions in my mind start; what did he eat? Is he tired? Did something over stimulate him? Was he having anxiety over something I asked him to do? Did I put fuel on the fire somehow? Uh oh, is it time to adjust meds again? Mind you, there’s no one here other than him (or my five year old), so I have a lot of conversations with myself.

The best thing I’ve learned to do, if humanly possible is retreat, retreat, retreat. I will go to my room (quickly, okay I run, before he realizes what I’m doing and tries to block me)… I lock the door. I sit there and when he tries to follow I tell him that I am not coming out until he calms down. Usually within 2 minutes he is calmed down. He gets so fixated with wanting me out of that room, that he actually is listening to what I tell him he needs to do to achieve that. He hates being away from me, ironically, since I’m the person who is often that the receiving end of his anger. If I can calm things down though, before they get too heated, then we can carry on with our day. Once he calms down, I sit and ask him “What happened? I need to understand” and often I have to give him a multiple choice of emotions, to help him explain to me, in his own words. He has a hard time expressing himself, which can often lead to a meltdown to begin with. So I will say "were you scared, angry, disappointed, overwhelmed, sad?" (you get the idea)... and then "What made you feel that way?"

The difference between a meltdown and a rage? A meltdown is loud, doors slam, names are called, those are typical things around here, he may even push the couch across the room. A rage well, sheesh, I wish I could extract a video from my mind to show you what it looks like- often it doesn’t seem real. Furniture will fly, doors get broken, something the likes of a seizure will consume his body, and he will be on the floor screaming, kicking, pupils huge, heart beating, face red. His whole body is under attack. It reminds me of something from the original Exorcist movie, really it does. I can understand how people in the past have blamed possession!

It’s not like that every day, thank goodness. Stability determines whether or not it graduates from a meltdown to a rage. This might also help people understand why we are so tolerant of “unacceptable behavior, at least what most parents would label it. Here's the best analogie I can think of, once you’ve lived through a flood, some rain makes you think of it (how bad things could get), but is also nothing in comparison. Meaning, you are always going to remember that flood, the fear, the desperation, and the rain falling brings back those memories. On the other hand you can look and think “ah, it’s just a little rain, I’m not going to worry about it.”

This is the blog post I was referring to, I encourage you to read it, and maybe even check out her blog.

“It's like having this beautiful puppy. And sometimes it's great being with the puppy. It climbs up into your lap, and you stroke its soft fur. It looks at you, and you can see it loves you. It even says, "I love you." And you love it back, and it feels like everything is going to be all right.

But sometimes when you put the puppy's dish down, it growls, "I despise you. Get away from my dish." And you try to explain, you don't need to growl at me, I'm just trying to feed you, but the puppy has a certain look in its eyes that makes you feel afraid, so you back out of the room, slowly, and leave it alone to eat.

If you're honest, you'll admit that the puppy has actually bitten you, and drawn blood. Sometimes you get out the bandages and bind up the wound yourself, without telling anyone. You feel ashamed. Sometimes you wish you had never gotten the puppy to begin with. Sometimes you think it would be best to knock the puppy into next week, and then you can't believe what a horrible person you are to think such things, because you still feel love for this puppy. You know that no one else will understand it or take care of it the way you do, and there are still times when it's good, and you want so much for the puppy to be happy and to have a good life.

So today, the puppy comes running up to you and wants to play. The puppy is all "Throw me the stick! Throw me the stick!" and wagging its tail. So you put aside your doubts and take it to the park, and you throw the stick. The puppy--really a young dog now--runs full out, and it is truly lovely to see it so free. It catches the stick in its mouth, effortlessly, and brings it back to you.

Its eyes bright, it drops the stick at your feet and says, "Here's your fucking stick, bitch."

There is much more to this story, which I hope to tell.” (Hells Bells, 2009) Check out her blog here http://open.salon.com/blog/hells_bells/2009/03/14/why_i_hate_my_bipolar_child

How do you handle juggling? I'd love to hear-

2012-03-01T08:44:00.000-08:00

Do you ever have those days when you wake up and realize that you have so much to do, that you simply want to just stay in bed? I know I do! However, I realize that this will just add to tomorrow’s heap of too many things to do, so I suck it up, get up, and get moving. One foot in front of the other, and eventually I’m moving at an acceptable pace.

I swear, if I had a theme song, it’d be the circus song, because sometimes I feel like that’s me, the conductor of a three ring circus! In ring one, we have martial arts and home school, in ring two we have t ball and kindergarten homework, in ring three there’s dinner plans, house keeping, laundry, etc. Okay maybe I need a few more rings… and there I am in the middle, juggling, keeping all the rings up in the air. Pick up rent from the bank, go buy cleats for t ball practice, send off work samples, go to the store, I could go on, but you get the idea! I have schedules, and calendars- even carry one in my car!

I have no clue how those of you with more kids keep things balanced! With my husband leaving at 5 am and not getting home until 6 pm, it’s a long day for both of us! Usually within minutes of hitting the couch at night, I’m sacked out!

I must confess, I kind of like being busy, it makes me appreciate the days that I don’t have to go anywhere and it helps us keep a brisk pace through the week. It also has taught me to be a more organized and orderly person (most days!). I have found though that just one deviation from the plan, one unexpected event, can really throw me off my game. Say I have to go pick someone up early, a kid gets sick, there’s extra schoolwork, or even if Tre is just really having an off day, it can be a big set back. Then about 4:00 rolls around and I realize, I somehow forget to plan dinner. Or the next morning I realize I forgot to dry the whites that needed to be done, because everyone ran out of socks.

I’m trying to put together easy dinner plans, without being too pricey and avoiding preservatives and dyes (also avoiding the take-out, fast food option!)… I checked out the mac n cheese I bought a few weeks ago and low and behold, red dye #40. Anyone care to share some of their fall back recipes? Or tips on how you manage multitasking through the week? I’d love to read from you guys!

Mom's Survival Guide: Tips I use to save my sanity!

2012-02-29T12:07:00.000-08:00

Mom’s (and Dad's too!) Survival Guide: Tips I use to save my sanity!

· First of all, remember that no matter how hard it gets, tomorrow is a new day. It is also important to help our children remember this. No matter how many struggles we had today, we cannot change that, but tomorrow is a new opportunity, a fresh start.

· Don’t hold grudges. Many of us are end up with PTSD because we kind of sit here waiting for the other foot to drop. Try not to focus on the past- try to live in the now…

· Go in at night and look at your child sleeping, admire his (or her) eyelashes, look at how long is fingers have grown, kiss his little nose, and remember that no matter how big the struggle was that day, he is still your little boy. Sometimes amidst the storm, we forget just how small and delicate they are.

· Keep your relationship strong (with your significant other). A child with a disability can be an incredible strain on a family-

· Laugh often

· When you don’t know if you should laugh or cry, try to laugh… try to see the humor in the situation.

· Forgive yourself when you completely and utterly fail, it happens. Beating yourself up is not going to change that.

· When you are telling your child “It’s just a shirt, it’s not a big deal!” ask yourself if you’re following that advice. If you are arguing with them about what shirt you want them to wear, you really are making a shirt a big deal.

· That leads to one of my favorites- Pick your battles!

· Take “me” time, even if it’s just to go to the grocery store.

· Take the kids to the park- let them run and play, take a book, savor the peace, look at them as children, and appreciate the chance to have some calm time.

· Don’t expect too much- not of yourself, not of your child, not of the day. If you don’t expect too much, then you won’t get disappointed.

· Try to make things seem like they are your child’s idea. “It’d be really cool if we went to the store and got some fruit to make a smoothie!” (Then while there say, “Oh boy, can I pick up some other things while we’re here!”)

· Things aren’t always black and white… sometimes we don’t quite understand why they are upset and vice versa. Ask clarifying questions and encourage your child to do the same. If we don’t understand one another, we can’t communicate. Without communication, we are not getting anywhere!

· Don’t let it get to you (at least try not to)- when you yell back, it makes things worse, the situation gets exponentially worse and so does your emotional state! Try to ignore what you can… If it isn’t hurting someone (physically) or destroying property, try to ignore it.

· Have a safety plan- just like in case there’s a fire. If brother or sister has a rage, teach the siblings what to do- perhaps go in the bathroom and lock the door, or go to the neighbor’s house- something that is planned on ahead of time. It’s one of those things that is hard to talk about but necessary.

· Try to have fun, if your little one struggles with things not being good enough- keep things short and sweet!

· Avoiding doing too much and tiring them out- don’t’ go to the mall, the park, the movies, dinner, and ice cream all in one day. A sleep kid can change the whole flow of things.

· Have a back up plan! When you have a long to do list, prioritize. Note ahead of time which things need to be done immediately and which things can be put off until later or the next day. That way the most important things are done first, and if you need to head home, it’s not such a big deal. I find when I feel pressure to get too much done, and I’m stressed, I can cause my son to have a meltdown, because he doesn’t listen to my words as much as he looks at my physical cues.

· Have compassion, when the crappola hits the fan, try to think of what it would be like to be them. Maybe they made bad decisions all day and are trying to do good. Imagine what it would be like to have such a struggle just to do the right thing!

· Praise, the big things, the little things, the things that took any effort… Clearing a plate after dinner, doing something without being asked, acts of kindness, not arguing about something that is usually a struggle… praise, praise, praise (especially If you want to see it happen again!)

· If all else fails, and in desperate situations, resort to bribery! J