The Accidental Mommy

Electronic Thingies

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 13 Jan 2016 19:18:00 +0000

The more a person thinks they know about parenting the more likely it is that person will be knocked out by a flying diaper genie.

The list of stuff our parents didn't have to worry about, but WE do, gets longer every day. When I started substituting for the school district last year I was horrified by the policies for cell phone and technology use. Every school tweaks it a bit but overall if a child has a phone or tablet or whatever (and most do), they can freely use it at lunch and recess, between classes and wherever else they can sneak a click. One school allows kids to use them in class for answer searches etc. I have 3 objections to this.

1. Porn
2. Pedophiles
3. Kids who do not have a tablet or phone or whatever

Naturally, my kids have greatly misinterpreted their personal need for phones. No. How ridiculous. I'm going to give my flippy- brained kids a highly expensive, tiny, delicate machine? Just, no. When I started back to work in the fall though, I realized I could pick up a lot more hours if I could get hold of them during the day with scheduling.

Sigh. Phones for Christmas.

Thinking it through exhaustively, we figured Teena would probably be ok and would likely hardly even use the thing. We'd have to keep a close eye on Genea though. Unhealthy boundaries and poor judgement translate to a high risk of dangerous crap coming directly into our home through the air (or however wi-fi works). I dunno though, it kind of seems like we should be teaching good habits and safety with technology as soon as it's reasonable. The problem being there's no precedence for parents. No tips that worked or didn't work for previous generations. Just in maybe the past 10 years or so our lives have become saturated with these devices. My brother in law jokes that kids today live 3 inches from the wall, obsessively clicking their electronica while recharging.

I feel like I should be protecting my children from the internet, controlling the snot out of it and supervising closely. However, kids have internet at school. If they do not have a device, they can look at whatever they want to see on someone else's. It may sound like schools have strong security on their wi- fi but all the kids have to do is close out wi- fi and use cellular data. Here is something scary I learned on reddit. Schools have pretty decent firewall system and everything you wouldn't want your kid to see is blocked. Where I work, even facebook is blocked. However, a delightfully clever young student somewhere figured out an easy hack. Enter whatever vile website you want into google translate. Pick any language, it doesn't matter. Paste the translation into your search bar and SHAZAM!

So as apprehensive as I am, there is a logic to getting kids on their own devices so they can learn, and fail, re- learn, screw up, learn some more.

Anyway they were excited.

This blur is Teena. She couldn't stop jumping.

Though actually, she looks like this most days.

Genea. Surprised and happy. Just a little.

I figured I would gain some peace and quiet. I am not ashamed to say this is the best part.

(I've decided I like the "vignette" setting on pics this week)

I keep the chargers in my room and the phones sleep next to my head. I look through them at night, and The Husband has a dealie-bop that sends everything to his phone, even if it was cleared.

Genea is fine. It is SO FUNNY listening to her talk to friends being silly, giggly and a dreadfully normal almost- teenager.

"he said what??? Then what happened? giggle* giggle* giggle! do you still think Mr. R is so cute? *giggle streak* omg he is! wear your purple shirt tomorrow and I'll wear mine!"

Her texts are the same.

What surprised me to the nth degree was that she freaked out (not the good kind) because she'd not expected a phone. I go and write that whole long ass post about holiday meltdowns (scroll down to see) and I never once considered that surprising her with something so unexpected would jam us up. Mercifully it was short lived. Probably cuz it's too hard to tantrum and text ha ha.

Teena is psycho text stalking friends.

minute 1 Hello
minute 1.5 HELLO
minute 2 WHERE ARE YOU
minute 2.5 WHY ARENT YOU ANSWERING ME

She has lost the case already.

This weekend, she ran up a $230 tab donating to a minecraft server owner.
(thank tequila we were able to get it refunded).

DON'T FORGET if you're looking for a great book on adoption that applies to the way it is NOW, as opposed to 20 years ago, read the previous post and order the book. Discount runs thru 1/18/16!!!!

"Keeping Your Adoptive Family Strong"

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 21 Dec 2015 15:40:00 +0000

Sometimes, for no apparent reason, something wonderful happens. I kinda' felt like I'd hit the lottery when a rep from Jessica Kingsley Publishers contacted me to discuss reviewing some of their titles. My excitement carried through my email reply and I may have scared her a bit. I've followed them on facebook for years. The company specializes in adoption, fostering and parenting and so much more that we parents are invested in. I decided to just add their whole danged list of divisions.

Click here, I swear it will work!

(I couldn't figure out how to copy the picture and keep the links intact. Click where it says "Click here" to go directly to this image on facebook, where all the link thingies work just fine. I've finally reached full saturation for new internet thingies I can learn).

This is the book I read to review.

Keeping Your Adoptive Family Strong was written by Gregory C. Keck and L. Gianforte. Gregory Keck was well known as the founder of the Attachment and Bonding Center of Ohio, and the author "Parenting the Hurt Child". Sadly, he passed away early this year. Co- author L. Gianforte served on the board of ATTACh, the Association for Treatment and Training in the Attachment of Children, and has a lengthy background in adoption as well. Both are adoptive parents.

I can't count the number of times I was reading and yelled out YEAH! to an empty room. Looking around for someone to fist bump while cheering. The authors get it. They get that it's hard. That most children adopted are coming from Child Protective Services or from orphanages and are traumatized. They point out how ridiculous it is that adoptive parents are so fervently blamed for their child's issues. That the current Strength Based model leads caseworkers to describe fully the best of the child while minimizing problems, creating a much larger problem. There's an entire chapter titled "Trauma: A Potentially Transferable Condition". They truly, deep down understand adoption and that is incredibly validating to read. They describe some creative approaches, and there is a story about a teenager stealing money that had me laughing out loud at the cleverness of the approach.

The book is titled "Keeping Your Adoptive Family Strong", however much is dedicated to building a strong adoptive family, and the talk is real. While it is valuable for adoptive families, I would highly recommend it as an educational read for folks who don't quite "get it". Anyone who has withstood criticism from extended family, teachers, therapists, neighbors and friends could easily gift this book to increase their understanding. I'll personally be doing just that.

Therefore...... dunh dunh DUNH! The publisher has set up a 20% discount ONLY TO READERS HERE! Here's how it works.

First, you have to live in the U.S. (sorry anyone who doesn't).

Call 1- 866-416-1078
Order the book, and tell them you have this discount code:
KEEP20

Outside the U.S., use this link to order from the website Keeping Your Adoptive Family Strong

The discount runs from now until and including January 18, 2016.

That's all! Though, it might be fun to look up the publishers catalog first and order up a bunch of other books (art therapy comes to mind!) at the same time.

Leave me some comments! Share!

Managing Holidays and Minimizing Meltdowns

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 24 Nov 2015 12:30:00 +0000

The holidays are too much for many of our kids. Though it seems to us regular adults from regular childhoods that this should be the most wonderful time of year, for a kid who struggles getting though a normal day, getting through a series of high-expectation days with multiple events is stressful.

I have learned a few things over the years about managing the holidays with a child who has Reactive Attachment Disorder, Bipolar Disorder and DSM-NOS. Things which have worked to help Genea remain on the planet during times of stress, and I thought I would pass them on. I'm not an expert and I don't even play one on TV.

With holidays and school breaks, schedules are haywire and can knock kids off track for weeks, even months. Most childcare professionals will verify- kids who are sensitive to change often destabilize this time of year.

First and foremost, be mindful that your RADish will probably struggle. Work from the perspective that there will be problems and try to contain them before the fallout. Anticipate. Think to previous years and plan. Understand what is causing the blowouts and why.

RADishes do not like change!
My RADish (affectionate term for a child with Reactive Attachment Disorder) does not like change. She has every day scheduled to be exactly the same as yesterday. It might seem as if a holiday like Thanksgiving where my little food hoarder/sneaker can eat all she wants would be a positive. However, the overriding feeling will be anxiety due to change in schedules, locations, people and rules.

But.. but... but... it's Christmas! She's getting presents! How could she flip out about that? That was my question until I realized, it's because of the changes. All change- even good change- is bad.

When things are predictable, she feels safe. Even though she knows it's Christmas, maybe she didn't realize that meant her regularly scheduled breakfast would be at 7:05 instead of 7:00 and there would be a parade to watch on tv instead of her usual cartoon. A typical kid wouldn't think twice about it but for the child with RAD, one change means everything could change, and that is dangerous.

Anxiety always comes out.

When your child starts up with provoking behaviors, incessant demands and/or does bizarre things it probably means she is feeling unsure and unsafe.

So what do you do? You talk it through at every opportunity. Describe every single thing ahead of time. We are going to Grandma's house. We are taking the blue car and leaving our house at 12:00. It will be a long car ride and I want you to bring a few books. We will try to drive straight there without stopping. When we get to Grandma's, remember her 2 dogs will bark at you at first. We will not eat right away, it will be about 2 hours after we get there but she always has snacks out for you right? She's having ham and those mashed potatoes you love (and sweet mother of tequila, those potatoes better be there) for dinner. These are the people who are coming.

But wait! Do not tell her too far ahead of time because then she will freak out anticipating The Day of Changes. For Genea, usually the night before a big event is good. Sometimes, the day of. Seriously, rarely more notice than that. Where you have anticipatory anxiety you have a meltdown. Or twenty.

The other thing that helps is to commiserate. You know change makes her feel nervous. It is hard! You don't know what to expect when things are changed up and you aren't sure the people in charge will take care of things. But you, the parent, will be there to help her.

Do what you have to do to keep the chances for failure at a minimum.

My child could not control her urine when stressed. Even though she was 7 and fully capable, unfortunately her continence was always one of the first things to go. We used protective garments at the homes of other people. If she didn't need the back up, she didn't need it but if she does it will not ruin the whole day, her clothes, or the furniture of others.

Know your child's signs of stress and look for them.

Genea can look perfectly calm, even happy, on the outside. I know she is feeling anxious because her pupils dilate. That may well be the only sign at all that she is internally dysregulated. And where does all that go if left to fester? After all, she looks good on the outside, why not take that for the truth? Here is why: because the meltdown is coming- it never just fades away. Maybe not at Grandma's for Christmas, but the next day? The next 7 unstructured days at home without school? Oh yeah, you will feel it!

Check in with your child often with physical contact.

I am always amazed when I casually hug Genea and I can feel her heart thumping like the drummer from a death metal band has moved into her chest cavity. Another cue she is feeling stress! I make her sit next to me and I firmly hold her. Not forcefully, but as the adult in charge. We might discreetly work on breathing or counting. I will have her place her hand on her chest to feel her heart beat and work on slowing it down (I call that biofeedback for the poor, lol). I'll slowly "draw" the infinity symbol on her back, purposefully crossing the medial line to engage both sides of the brain.

We might escape to a bedroom and close the door and do some strong sitting in quiet. We can do quick brain shifts or some academics. I might ask her to spell "frog" or use the math trick. The answer doesn't matter in the slightest- it will shift the brain out of panic and fear and away from fight/ flight/ freeze. Other ideas- ask her favorite color, favorite tv show, etc. Think of it as driving a car with a manual transmission (good God, why do those things still exist). If the car is in 1st gear going 45 miles an hour you are going to wind up with a messed up car. You have to shift to bring it into safety.

Other things that have helped Genea and I survive:

Keep visits to other homes short. Short. Short as you can.

Plate your child's food for her. A buffet style or family style meal is going to overwhelm and freak out your little loved one.

Keep as many rules from home as possible. Example- we have a rule that you have to try everything on your plate with one bite, then you can decide not to eat it. Awkward and annoying to keep that rule at another persons home, but rules are reminders that someone is in charge and the child is safe.

Try not to "let it go because it is a holiday". I have wound up with 2 ungrateful, overstimulated brats on many occasions thinking I was giving the gift of fun and freedom from structure.

Get over the idea that this is your holiday too and you should be able to have some fun. Maybe you will, maybe you won't. Yes this will all be a lot of work. No, it probably isn't fair.

What about pushy relatives?

Those that are sure your RADish needs a fistful of crackers and you are just being too strict, you know them? They spend half the holiday trying to convince you that you are too hard on the child, you need to loosen up. Or the other where your child runs off totally out of control and just needs a good spanking. I have two lines that I have found will stop all opinions, second guessing, and unwanted "help".

1. Say this with your head tilted to the side and try to look tragic.

"You know, she will just never be totally sure that we won't abandon her too. No matter how long it has been she still doesn't quite fully believe we will always bring her home. Our rules may seem odd but she functions so much better with them".

Without fail, the "helpful" relative will make sad clucking noises, look off into the distance, and wander away. I think the it helps kick open the door that reminds people, we are not working from a regular box of chocolates here. Half the box isn't even candy.

2. Looking helpless or a little doubtful, shift the focus (blame) off of yourself.

"Mmmm hmmmm, her therapist (insert whatever professional you want) says we have to 'blank' for her to get better. You know, after all she's been through".

Around my relatives that will move immediately into a discussion about this feelings crap in society now-a-days, psychiatrists are nothing but drug pushers and the Big Pharmaceutical Companies are running the world.

I realize the above ideas may turn folks off completely. Do what works for you. This is what has worked for me.

Now, on to gifts!

Around here, my kids get a lot of gifts. What a problem, right? No, it's not something I complain about. However too many new things at one time overwhelms them. Then they wind up playing with the box or an old cat toy from way under the couch. Spread it out.

We will do our family gifts 3 days before Christmas. No one has ever been arrested for opening gifts early. Winter Break from school starts five full days before the actual holiday this year- that's a long time and I'm sitting on a pile of new toys? Gifts mailed out from relatives get opened two days before. That will give the kids most of the next day to play with their new stuff.

I know many people feel they should be teaching their children delayed gratification. That kids should darn good and well learn to wait and they'll be better people for it. That is totally valid, and I get it. It's true. My thinking though, is that my daughter spent the first year and a half of her life in abject neglect. She was forced into a life where delayed gratification was the standard. Only it wasn't a new my- little- pony doll, it was food that was insubstantial. Hugs that never happened. Non existent stimulation. She knows too well what delayed gratification is because it damaged her brain and torpedoed her development.

New Segment- What to Give Her

I often lurk around facebook pages for parents of children with RAD, and this is a subject that comes up regularly. What can you give a child who destroys toys? Or the child who rarely plays with toys? Or the child who places no value on "things" and will lose it?

Whenever people ask what my kids want I will tell them a few specific items if they insist, otherwise we request experiences. Actual physical things to do. A week of dance camp. A card for ChuckE. A pool membership or swimming lessons. Zoo or museum memberships. Spa cards to get manicures together. A salon card to get a streak of green in the hair. Horse riding lessons. Donation to a charity in her name. Have a few of these handy so when people ask, you can supply a website or phone number.

Some folks feel it is important the child have something to open on the holiday. Actually, the unknown of a wrapped package can be stressful. At any rate, suggest those things be small and inexpensive. Thrift stores are a fantastic source for cheaper than dirt kids books.

Anyway, like I said, these are the things that have worked for us. You may have already tried every single thing on the list and none of it worked. For me, it's about maximizing the fun and minimizing (not eradicating!) the meltdowns. We will absolutely still have fallout, but if we try to work out the problems ahead of time and have a plan for the other stuff, it helps.

I actually wrote this a few years back, but to this day we still do most of the same things. I've updated it and added a little. Of course Genea is older now and able to respond better so that helps. At this point, I can straight up ask her what would help her manage her anxiety and she will come up with her own idea's. Age limits apply, but for us the boys and girls club helps greatly to occupy days off with structure.

Last thing. Let's be certain there will never be a statue for me unless it meets the same fate as Saddam Husseins. Today Genea told me she was feeling stressed because of the changes coming up this week. Then she pointed out that I get "super frustrated" when we are going off somewhere. This makes her nervous and then I get frustrated with her. Notwithstanding the fact that I have to be the brain for 3 extra people, get everyone and everything ready, she's right. I get frustrated and it shows. I will work on it.

So, opinions? Suggestions? What has worked for you and your family that is not typical? Fill me in, I will take all the help I can get!

This post is about a cat.

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 26 Aug 2015 20:11:00 +0000

Comparing your child to an animal is something only the most ill- mannered parent would do. So I won't. This post is about our cat, Bindi.

Bindi was approximately 2 years old when she came to live with us, about 18 months ago. Nothing was known about her first year of life except that she was picked up as a pregnant stray. She spent some time in a foster home, had her babies, then was moved to an animal shelter where she stayed in a cage. She was fed and cared for, but not really cared about. Cats were rotated out to stretch and jump around, sometimes "handled". I have no idea how often.

When she came to live with us, she stayed in her own small area at first. Mostly she hid for a few days, and when she moved around it was behind, under or in furniture, and only along a wall. A year and a half later, we've all gotten to know each other. Things she does, little quirks and big quirks, began to look familiar. Is "shockingly" a word? Shockingly familiar.

Per the listed requirements for residence in the Midwest, I have a big-ass recliner to watch TV from. Bindi loves to lounge on it with me, but only across the top part of the back. Possibly she feels safer being above me so if I decided to do something stupid, she would have the advantage. Anyway, once a month-ish, I pull her down and lay her across me. Her purr sounds like a diesel engine with these cute little high pitched hiccoughs interspersed. She squishes around to settle in and lets me scratch her head/neck/ears. I get 5 minutes, give or take 30 seconds, and She. Is. Done. She scrambles onto her feet and jumps over to the couch where she flops down out of my reach and out of my sight. She never returns to her perch above me until the next day.

Why does she jump away? I've shown her I'm safe and reliable, not prone to startling movements!

She wants to be petted. Only when she wants to be, is a person allowed. She lets us know she wants attention by dramatically hurling herself across the area you were about to walk over. She's a talker, so she writhes around chirping her little sounds, trying to look cute while completely blocking you from anything else. Pet her, rub her chin, and she bites you when she's had enough. Ouch. If you are not a smart person (don't ask how I know this detail) and keep trying to pet her anyway (since she is still purring like a Harley Davidson) she will remind you with a swift slash of claw. Human skin is soft.

Why would she hurt me? She seemed so happy, it makes no sense.

Pet her firmly, with heft. She will smash her head into your hand to increase the pressure. When she rolls around, shows her tummy and gives the Pet Me Now look, it seems like she wants you to rub her tummy. She does not. Every person in this house has made the mistake. Once.

Seriously? What's with the mixed signal there?

She doesn't like our other cat Boo Boo. Growling, hissing, and that ungodly screech that only cats seem to make. She attacks him randomly. She wears a collar with a bell so he/we can hear her coming.

She shouldn't try to hurt Boo Boo. Brothers and sisters are supposed to love each other!

She likes secure places, where she's surrounded by something.

Why does she need that? She's been in a safe place for longer than she was unsafe!

She doesn't like to play. She'll destroy stuff though.

She doesn't use toys how they were intended. When she does play with something she wrecks it.

She's scared of storms and doesn't care much for high winds either. I'm guessing she was caught in a storm when she was homeless but we'll never really know. Was she hungry? Wet? Was there hail? Did a raccoon trap her? When she's scared she hides or paces. She doesn't sleep. Don't try to calm her.

Ok really? Say she was caught in a storm. That was years ago and she absolutely has not encountered a drop of vertical water since then. She can't possibly remember it but anyway, she's safe, warm and dry now and it's been years!

She's hungry all the time. When her dish is not full she paces, scratches furniture or walls, and hollers. Loudly.

(food is very low in this picture but I don't have a better one)

Obviously she is always fed. Always. Her weight is direct and irrefutable evidence. Why does she act as if she is going to collapse in front of deaths door?

She wants to be by us, but only barely. She follows me around if no one else is home but won't ever sit with me.

Gosh that part is frustrating. She's always there, twisting under my feet or following me or running ahead of me only to abruptly slow so I trip over her. Yet when it's easy, laying on the couch or something, she will have no part of it.

With Genea though, it's all different. When it's time for Genea to come home, she waits by the door. Sits with her, waits for her, sleeps in her bed. Maybe hurt beings recognize other hurt beings.

Too Many Good Things

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 11 Jun 2015 12:00:00 +0000

"I don't like it when too many good things happen in a row. It makes me feel nervous".

-Genea

Everything You Ever Wanted

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 09 Jun 2015 15:05:00 +0000

When someone asks you "how has it been now that you've adopted your son/daughter"? The answer is supposed to be "Its everything I ever wanted", which makes the phrase a great title for Jillian Laurens new book, Everything You Ever Wanted.

It's a memoire about the adoption of her little boy from Ethiopia. There aren't any unicorns floating on rainbows made of fairy wings in this story. We wind through the authors start in life as an adopted infant, through some wild years (putting it mildly), and into her marriage and desire for children. The little boy she adopts has significant challenges, and she truthfully describes the realities. Her writing is like art, her masters degree shows. You feel the pain and the love and the charm all together.

Honestly this book hit close to home for me. I found myself laughing at familiar scenes (even ones probably not intended to be funny), commiserating with others, and breaking down towards the end. I love the way Jillian Lauren writes- it's how I imagine I would write had I that level of talent. One sentence carried so much insight I had to stop reading to think about it. Writing of her own birth and subsequent adoption, she says....

"To be so unwanted and so wanted at the same time can carve a fault line in you".

Imagine my surprise to read of my IRL friend Christine Moers in there! It seems Ms Lauren is a blog reader and at some point contacted Christine, which turned into a friendship as well. So, we have a mutual friend!

At any rate, I was sent a copy of this book to review and I adored it. I'm struggling with how to describe it, so if it sounds weird, well, I warned you. It's such a good story I wanted to read fast to see what would happen next, and yet the phrasing and descriptions made me want to slow down to take in all that the author intended with her word choices.

towards trust

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 27 May 2015 14:51:00 +0000

Of the 997,000 issues that have come out of this here "adoption journey", a big one has been the pathetic lack of helpful information. With Genea's history, the diagnosis of Reactive Attachment Disorder was tossed on the pile early. But what to do about it? (I eventually wrote my own book *shameless plug* Parenting Pandora ).

Books, research, multiple doctors, therapists, etc helped, but didn't actually make a difference with the day to day. So many vague concepts, my head popped off more than once. Build a relationship! Develop trust! Be loving! Okay, maaaaaaaaybe I could figure out what to do with that advice had my newly adopted daughter come equipped with mental stability, but she did not. How do you do any of those things when the tiny little slip of a girl rips the book away from you and knocks you over the head with it, instead of having a loving moment reading. When everything you suggest, say for example a million dollars with a scoop of ice cream, is met with NO! and leads to a shrieking meltdown. When you hug her she recoils. Kiss her cheek, she wipes it off. Pat her gently on the back and it's like you set her on fire. Um, ?

And so I was reactive. Ahem. That's my code word for flipping my own shit, screaming back, yelling, freaking out and so forth. Stay calm? Is that supposed to be a joke? Did Chris Rock say it? I felt like she needed to know what result her actions had, that everyone has a limit and you cannot keep dragging them there. She wasn't getting it, I had to try harder. Her "theory of mind" was non existent and she had to learn nobody is going to put up with this shit!

I misunderstood, that it was not about her testing limits and boundaries. It was about her testing my trustworthiness and I did not pass. There are tons of groups on facebook for RAD parents or people with RAD. It was on one of them that I read from a young woman who said that her constant pushing was to try to make her parents blow up. Her perspective was that if she could make you angry, then she was actually the person with control in the family. Since the parent was unable to maintain control, they could not be trusted and she had to stay in charge.

I'd known this, but for some reason the lightbulb exploded over my head and I really understood it. If the adults cannot be trusted to control their own selves, SHE was sure not going to trust them. No adult could help her who could not stay in charge through her tests. In my case, the tests were relentless. I could hold it together through 3 or 4 episodes, but by number five (usually an hour after waking up, seriously) I'd blow from the cumulation and together, Genea and I became an avalanche.

Okay then, that covers what not to do, still leaving my persistent question- "what TO do?". These days, I try to mix it up I guess. Tell a joke, change the subject, move away, send her on a task, get her doing something with me. None of that is really teaching her how to manage, but defuses the situation and it helps. If she will not be distracted, I send her to blow off her steam in another room (incidentally, a reason for never putting away laundry, we use the laundry room here and there as a 'calm down place' and the piles of clothes make for a great acoustic shield! I know, lots of people don't approve of the separation, but I cannot let the tantrums of one person hold the rest of the family hostage. Cue end to the longest parenthetical ever).

Let there be no mistake- I have no pedestal to lug around with me. I am a yeller who comes from a long line of yellers. It's in my epigenetics. Many times (a day *ahem*) I have to almost cauterize my vocal cords to keep from yelling and I OFTEN fail. But I'm trying. Yelling doesn't help and usually makes the situation worse. This information about trusting only the person who can remain in control gives me a little more ammunition to try harder.

Just... fail

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 14 May 2015 14:59:00 +0000

In conclusion, it is apparent that I am a ginormous fail in all things domestic, up to and including the very ground this house sits upon.

Dear Carolina

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 05 May 2015 17:21:00 +0000

I was sent a new book to read, y'all!

"Dear Carolina" is a story by Kristy Woodson Harvey about two women, Khaki and Jodi, whose lives become permanently spun together following the birth of baby Carolina.

It's not easy to describe the pregnancy of a young alcoholic and keep the reader liking the character. Likewise, when the possibility of adoption came up, it felt like I was rooting for both women equally. An author has to have considerable skill to pull that off with topics so easily judged.

There are unexpected pops of humor, and the book is loaded with "southern-isms", which is a word I just made up. Just when you think the story has settled down, another twist flies in to keep things interesting.

Its the sort of book that is easy to read and moves quickly. Yet I kept finding bits and pieces jumping around in my brain later and realized, A is connected to B, but also to J, Q and possibly E. So while its a great summer beach read, there are depths and complexities that surface when you're done.

I'm not going to say anymore because I'd have to give away story details to do it!

So! I recommend it!
Here's the link!

Now featuring theft!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 08 Apr 2015 18:38:00 +0000

And so, as we whittle our way through the list of symptoms that make for a diagnosis of RAD, we have moved into stealing. Woo hoo?

For most of her life with us, Genea has only shown the stealing habits of a typical kid but with her DSM- NOS spin. You know, swiping cookies, taking her sisters toy, that sort of thing, but with the exponential that RAD seems to add to everything. Once she took a full orange juice carton into the bathroom, slammed every last drop and left the carton weeping on the floor. We dealt with it firmly, so of course that led to a host of wonky/wtf thefts. Crackers under the bed! Binged through a box of cookies! 2 inch high crumb trail leading to her room!

This past summer though, with the Middle School of Doom approaching, she went off the rails in about 90 directions and one of those directions involved Things That Belong To Mom. So normally, we have been lucky that our RAD does not single out "MOM" for her RAD fun but has always divided it equally between The Husband and I. Sure, most people think of winning the lottery as lucky, my perspective is skewed.

While I can maintain a poker face for just about any offense Genea can think up (which took hella practice and could rescind itself at any time) , I made a rookie error late last summer and absolutely flipped my shit on her.

She had stolen my candy bar.

Not just any candy bar, but one of those uber fancy chi-chi foo-foo handmade by a glitter fairy candy bars. The kind of thing you buy yourself once a year to make just one day suck less. Dark chocolate with the perfect amount of caramel and sea salt, I pinched off tiny little crumbs to indulge in, meaning to make it last. This candy bar, I tell you, it was an orgasm for the mouth. Then it vanished.

I tried, really I did, to maintain composure as I cornered the two potential criminals and noted one no longer had beautiful brown eyes because her pupils had been replaced by 2 black cantaloupes. My poker face devolved into Freddy Krueger face and my voice may or may not have elevated to where only dogs could hear it. I. Was. So. PISSED! And so, I sabotaged myself.

Most of the Pre- Middle School of Doom behavior has faded, but stealing has evolved and progressed. No candy is safe. Box of candy for my birthday? Swiped. I left a few dollars laying on my desk. Swiped. Now expanded to lifting cash out of my purse in increments of 20. Jewelry? Gone.

Maybe it's me being stubborn, but I REFUSE to lock up stuff. It's my goddam house (though seriously if the issue were knives or antiques or something, it would be different). I can prevent her from stealing things I lock up sure, but it is guaranteed she will find something else. I wouldn't be surprised to see her hauling my couch down the street. In therapy, she blames me for the thefts. She doesn't steal from daddy because he doesn't leave stuff out. HE thinks I should lock my stuff up too.

Here's the thing- it's not impulse control. It not lack of cause and effect. Its not because she's hungry or needs something we are not providing. It's to "get" me. She actually told her therapist, "I know Mama is the one who loves me the most, so that's why I do it". Don't bother re-reading that looking for the logic, it's not there. It's RAD logic, push-pull on steroids sucking a crack pipe.

We quickly and uselessly moved through the usual. Natural consequences. Manufactured consequences. Room time. Restitution. LOTS of restitution. Banking money ahead of time. Moral discussions. Lectures. How-would- you- like- it conversations.

What is sorta- kinda working now is a combination of things. Manufactured Natural Consequences, like, "I'm sorry you can't go to your voice lesson today. You stole the money I was going to pay for it with". Hitting it heavy in therapy. Paying me back with chores. And traps. Cookie traps and money traps. I tell her I set out money for her to take and she resists stealing it, proving to us both that she can stop herself. High, super high structure with any free time being used for calming meditation. Since she has to be supervised, she has to go to bed early because no one can watch her. In my bizarro opposite world all this is actually easier than the usual day to day, and harder for her.

aghhhhhh gaatheusop BUUUPSTAPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
(that's me not reacting in the moment)

Oops! Almost forgot- If anyone has advice, suggestions, tips etc., for the love of Xanax, puh-leaaaaase share!

Messy Musings

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 17 Mar 2015 12:24:00 +0000

I'm getting older than I used to be. I realized I'm not just looking exhausted and stressed, but that what I see is my actual face now. Ugh. (If anyone saw my new FB cover pic, rest assured about the only thing still me in that pic is my head).

One of Genea's teachers is pregnant and going on leave. I'm planning a field trip for all the teachers in our area. We are going to march on down to the Walgreens and visit the family planning section. Maybe show a video. I'm not about to do a show and tell but if need be, I'll find someone. Probably a teenager. I love me some happily attached babies, but people need to be having them over the summer.

Thanks to Seraphinalina for alerting me that the full video of shopping cart has been released. Woot! Here it is in all its glory Killer Karts . While I hold bitter, resentful thoughts toward any stores that use quiet plastic carts instead of metal, I have to admit those plastic ones maneuver nicely. Smashing them is nowhere near the fun though.

This happened:

Her name is Bella

Poor Teena. She has wanted a calico kitten for ages. The Mama cat was in the same cage and when we took the baby out, she cried and reached her paws through the wire trying to grab her baby. Teena sobbed and begged to take them both home. We take Mother- Baby separation seriously around here. However, we did not take the Mama home. Note that The Husband was NO HELP being practical and logical on the issue. This is my pathetic and unsuccessful effort to cheer her up.

Boo Boo does not like the kitten. He does not like anything. While the picture is adorable, when he eventually awoke and realized this invasion was happening he hopped up, hissed at her, and left. He then turned and gave me a look clearly meant to communicate abject betrayal.

Bindi, now Bindi loves the baby.

I think everyone should have a kitten. There is nothing cuter! She loves to pull the drain plugs out of the sinks. Which is vile. But she's still cute. OMG SO MUCH CUTE!!!

Bindi continues to be kind of a bruiser. She loves Genea most and sneaks off into her bed all the time. She also loves gloves. Not sure what that's about, but she digs them out and carries them around the house while yelling. Unless a person comes along, then she's invisible. We call them her glove babies.

(took this picture in the fall!) No one knows how that glove got there. In fact, I'm not sure I even see a glove.

I had 5 inches of hair removed from my head. Has one single ingrate that I live with noticed? No. I posted a pic of Genea and I on facebook and four people, including two I've never met, commented on my hair. I just know if I put their clean goddam socks on my head, they'd notice.

AAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, I got a paying job. Substitute paraprofessional at not-our schools. There can be any range of duties, its mostly 1:1 to 1:5 "aide" work with kids who need extra help. I'm finding a few issues with myself immediately that I need to work on. First, I have to stop paying attention to the teacher! I catch myself listening attentively as if I were the one being taught, LOL! The other is my inclination to therapize with the *ahem* challenging kids. I'm all like, "Are you feeling nervous because your regular para isn't here?". And, "lets do a firm pressure massage on your arms to see if that helps you calm down". As much as I like to think I'm being intuitive and helpful, the job is to make sure the kids get their work done. Nobody cares what the kid is feeling, and it's someone elses job to figure it out. I'm there to make sure assignments get finished.

I have this idea for like a group post. I can't be the only one with dozens of half finished, or un-edited, or forgotten posts started. So my idea is we start posting them in all their half assed glory and link them up. Edit them, clarify them, leave them as is, whatever. I'm still thinking of a name for it, maybe Ghost Posts? Or Dead Post Society? LOL, leave a comment if you're interested. Or just leave a comment about other stuff.

WILL WORK FOR COMMENTS!

Her Story

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 04 Mar 2015 18:25:00 +0000

In the dust of Genea's recent question, "why didn't they want me", I received an email about an upcoming webinar class by Heather Forbes, of Beyond Consequences, Logic and Control, called "Giving Your Children Their Story".

I am so totally doing it!

I'm guessing most adoptive parents struggle with giving information to their children. I know I certainly have! To gloss over Genea's story on clouds made of fairy wings would be wrong, but to bluntly tell the whole truth would be cruel. It's hard to use phrasing that never ever hints of anything being her fault, and to avoid projecting interpretation onto a birth mother whose story is unknown. There is so much to consider, and I'm sure many other people have the issue of multiple layers. We don't just have one abandonment, we have two, along with some bizarre situations.

Other issues lurk around too. It's her information and I don't necessarily feel like I have the right to hold any of it back. Yet, she's eleven and I would not expect her to understand trigonometry. I've read from adoptee's who say their story belongs to them alone, and many don't want their adoptive parents involved at all.

I cannot even describe how perfect this is for us right now. I just wrote the post "Black Holes and Revelations" last month (title take from an album by Muse btw) where I realized Genea has gaps in her memory. Not just of the actual events but of what we have told her so many times.

I've lifted these quotes directly from the Beyond Consequences website:

"Trauma is stored in fragments within the memory system".
YES IT SEEMS TO BE! When I was telling Genea a part of her life with the first adoptive parents, she got all excited, saying she had dreams about the event that scared her, but she didn't know why.

"Pieces of memory here and pieces of memory there can create confusion and conflict".
OH YEAH WE HAVE THAT! She often still confuses the story of her birth mother with the story of her first adoption.

"Help your child in the process of sorting through the reality and magical thinking".
YUP, THAT TOO! In the beginning, Genea put her previous adoptive parents on an airplane for a solid year, and whenever one flew overhead she jumped up and down hollering "there they are!".

So anyway! The webinar is on March 11th. I was surprised at how inexpensive the class is in the first place but there is currently a discount running that puts it at just $15.00 ( Seriously?). It's live, and interactive so people such as myself (ahem!) can ask questions. AND! Heather will remain online after the class to answer general parenting questions as well! Several years ago I hauled myself across the country twice to attend seminars with her and I can say both were highly valuable and helped me change a lot.

Class fees were waived in exchange for this post.

Black Holes and Revelations

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 04 Feb 2015 17:51:00 +0000

On our way to therapy last week, Genea started telling me a lengthy story about Daddy's shirt. It's from Denver, and he got it a long time ago. And when she asked him about it, and he told her, she remembered another question she'd been meaning to ask.

"Why didn't that other family want me"?

Um.

"Do you remember what we've told you?"

No.

Whenever this has come up in the past, maybe a handful of times, we've always told her it was because the parents who adopted her first were getting a divorce. This is not exactly the truth, though that marriage had clearly been over for a while, and they did wind up divorcing a year later. Genea has been young enough, or oblivious enough, that the answer was enough. She accepted it with the idea that all three of them separated from each other.

The truth as I know it is, she was too much for them. Her shrieking, that primal infant scream that they could not stop with any usual methods. They resorted to some unusual methods and the shrieking stopped, but there was nothing there then. They had no relationship, and felt like she hated them. She may have. She had stopped growing after a few months with them and developed a cortisol disorder similar to Addisons Syndrome. She also developed the bizarre ability to stop herself from making any sound while crying. Imagine a 3 year old who can do that. If I'd not seen it I would never had believed it.

In the therapists office, Genea pushed me for more information. "I don't know" was not going to cut it this time. I said "I can tell you what they told me, which was they thought they were bad parents and they didn't know how to help you. You were so sad all the time and they tried but they had some really bad ideas of what to try, and that made it worse". I asked her if that made sense, and she said sort of.

I explained some more, the things about her screaming and how they thought she was miserable. I made a point to tell her none of it was her fault. There is nothing a 4 year old can do to make parents do anything. The entire responsibility is on them. It was a hard conversation for many reasons, one being to describe her as she was then, without using any language to suggest anything was her fault.

When I asked her again if it was making sense, she again said "sort of". I realized she was waiting to hear a good reason. Something she could hang on to, to tell herself, oh so that's why. A reasonable explanation as to why the people who adopted her first didn't want her. Just throw a cement mixing truck at my head, I'll eventually catch on.

"If you're waiting to hear something logical, there isn't anything. If you're trying to understand what the good reason they had was, there isn't one. It was the wrong thing to do and they shouldn't have done it. What they did was bad for you, it hurt you".

And so she understood, in her 11 year old Genea way, that it was not going to made sense. I'm certain it will all come up again and again, and I'm not sure why she doesn't remember. My suspicion is that she struggles so much daily just to hold the usual stuff together, that hard stuff gets pushed to the side and eventually forgotten.

What the what?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 15 Jan 2015 05:55:00 +0000

They say there is no such thing as a stupid question. I don't know who "they" is, but "they" are wrong. There are plenty of stupid questions. So. Many. Stupid. Questions!

We recently had a relative from not-my-side come out to visit. She had friends here who wanted to meet my family (really?). So off we went, through the blizzarding snow, to meet these friends of the Relative From Out Of Town. For the sake of expediency, we'll call her Root.

(you have to know how badly I wanted to make the acronym ROT, but it just seemed like too much).

Roots friends have a 2nd home here in Green Bay. One might think of that as an oddity worthy of its own show on TLC. After all, if I were to have a second home you can be guaranteed it would be more than a thousand miles from Wisconsin. Key West, or Hilton Head Island, New Orleans, NYC to name a few. But its actually something people do (freaky- deaky people, ahem). Buy a second home in Green Bay so you can use it for the 10 times the Packers play football at Lambeau Field. I'm serious. It's a thing!

Anyway, we went in and made introductions blah blah blah etc. These people were loud. They responded to normal speech so I don't think it was a hearing issue. They were just super, eardrum- vibrating loud. So much that Teena kept her hands over her ears the whole time. But they were fun, sociable and pleasant. Until one of them made a comment, and it snowballed.

“Teena you look so much like your mom. I mean, I'm sitting here and I just met you, and gosh, you just look so much alike! Genea, how come you don’t look like them?"

Genea- “I’m adopted”

Loud people- “BWAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHA”

I explain, no, she really is adopted.
Root chimes in with, "she’s from ThuhyooCRANE!"

LP- “OH, are you a gymnast?”

(huh? what? a what???)

At this point I should explain that my brain was frantically firing neurons to come up with a logical explanation as to where this was going and why. Distressed little axons whipped about seeking clarity that would not come. So it was busy. (ps, I'm not sure what that means but I thought it sounded good).

Root- “NO, but all my friends think she looks JUST LIKE Nadia Comaneci”!!!!

Nadia

The Husband says- “Nadia is Romanian”

This here is Genea. From ThuhyoooCRANE.

Later I thought, perhaps they were thinking of Oksana Baiul who is Ukrainian. And a figure skater.

At any rate, I am so completely bewildered I have lost the ability to speak

I shit you not. The conversation then extends to all the people everyone ever knew who was adopted.
One of the LP's asked Genea, "do you know other orphans from ThuhyooCRANE? My neighbor has a daughter from Korea and she knows another little girl from Korea too!".

Someone asks about travelling to ThuhyooCRANE in the future.

Root answers. Why would ROOT answer? Just the fact gave my sad little misfiring neurons a toilet swirly. Let alone the words that followed.

“WE are going to take her there when she is 18. WE want her to be old enough to appreciate it. We are definitely going, and it will be a big trip for us. We just want her to be old enough to understand what's happening. But WE will take her there when she's 18.”

The stink eye I sent her the first time progressed to the evil eye, then to a full on WTF face.

My head exploded. WE are not going ANYWHERE!!!!! When and if Genea's parents decide it is a stable time in her emotional and cognitive development, and if she wants to, her PARENTS will take her. In fact, her father and I have discussed 15 or 16. There will be MONTHS of counseling involved before and after. At 18 she can take herself if she wants! However, I managed to let the comments gooooo, let it gooooo, let it GOOOOOO. Why? I have an unfortunate history with Root wherein she says stupid shit, and I call it out and make her take it back. Apparently in some circles this is not as appreciated as it should be. So I try.

But there’s more.

LP “Genea, you are SO LUCKY to be adopted!”

Me- ACK! ACK! ACK!

That's the point where I almost let loose with a little crazy of my own. Possibly they sensed it, because it was quickly expanded to "you're so lucky you have them for parents- Teena too!"

Seriously, I didn't realize before how fortunate we are that we’ve never been around people like that before. I’ve always heard stories of stuff like this happening, but this was my first experience with hard core dumbasses. Obviously, us all being Caucasians means we rarely get a second glance and that's probably a big part of it. At least nobody asked her WHY her real mother didn’t want her (although I’d bet a tray of cheese curds they were all trying to think of a way to bring it up).

The stupid. It hurts.

Ye Olde Crusty Post- Mimimize Holiday Meltdowns!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 23 Dec 2014 05:59:00 +0000

I've put this up a couple times before, but I like it. So I'm posting it again!

The holidays are too much for many of our kids. Though it seems to us regular adults from regular childhoods that this should be the most wonderful time of year, for a kid who struggles getting though a normal day, getting through a series of high-expectation days with multiple events is stressful.

I have learned a few things over the years about managing the holidays with a child who has Reactive Attachment Disorder, Bipolar Disorder and DSM-NOS. Things which have worked to help Genea remain on the planet during times of stress, and I thought I would pass them on. I'm not an expert and I don't even play one on TV.

With holidays and school breaks, kids easily go haywire and stay off track for weeks, even months. Most childcare professionals will verify- kids who are sensitive often destabilize this time of year. In other words, they blow their shit.

First and foremost, be mindful that your RADish will probably struggle. Work from a position that expects problems and makes the effort to contain them before the fallout. Anticipate. Think to previous years and plan. Understand what is causing the blowouts and why.

RADishes do not like change!
My RADish (affectionate term for a child with Reactive Attachment Disorder) does not like change. She has every day scheduled to be exactly the same as yesterday. It might seem as if a holiday like Thanksgiving where my little food hoarder/sneaker can eat all she wants would be a positive. However, the overriding feeling will be anxiety due to change in schedules, locations, people and rules.

But.. but... but... it's Christmas! She's getting presents! How could she flip out about that? That was my question until I realized, it's because of the changes. All change- even good change- is bad.

When things are predictable, she feels safe. Even though she knows it's Christmas, maybe she didn't realize that meant her regularly scheduled breakfast would be at 7:05 instead of 7:00 and there would be a parade to watch on tv instead of her usual cartoon. A typical kid wouldn't think twice about it but for the child with RAD, one change means everything could change and that is dangerous.

Anxiety always comes out.

When your child starts up with provoking behavior, constant demands and does bizarre things it may mean she is feeling unsure and unsafe.

So what do you do? You talk it through at every opportunity. I would describe every single thing I could think of to Genea ahead of time. We are going to Grandma's house. We are taking my car and leaving our house at 12:00. It will be a long car ride and I want you to bring a few books. We will try to drive straight there without stopping. When we get to Grandma's, remember her 2 dogs will bark at you at first. We will not eat right away, it will be about 2 hours after we get there but she always has snacks out for you right? She's having ham and those mashed potatoes you love (and sweet mother of tequila, those potatoes better be there) for dinner. These are the people who are coming.

But wait! Do not tell her too far ahead of time because then she will freak out anticipating the day of changes. For Genea, usually the night before a big event is good. Sometimes, the day of. Seriously, rarely more notice than that. Where you have anticipatory anxiety you have your meltdown. Simple.

The other thing that helps is to tell her you know what is happening and why. You know change is hard for her and makes her feel nervous. It is hard! But you will be there to help her, and you've always kept her safe.

Do what you have to do to keep the chances for failure at a minimum.

My child could not control her urine when stressed. Even though she was 7 and fully capable, unfortunately her continence was always one of the first things to go. We used protective garments at the homes of other people. If Genea doesn't need the back up, she doesn't need it but if she does it will not ruin the whole day, her clothes, or the furniture of others.

Know your child's signs of stress and look for them.

Genea can look perfectly calm, even happy, on the outside. I know she is feeling anxious because her pupils dilate. That may well be the only sign at all that she is internally dysregulated. And where does all that go if left to fester? After all, she looks good on the outside, why not take that for the truth? Here is why: because the meltdown is coming- it never just fades away. Maybe not at Grandma's for Christmas, but the next day? The next 7 unstructured days at home without school? Oh yeah, you will feel it!

Check in with your child often with physical contact.

I am always amazed when I casually hug Genea and I can feel her heart thumping like the drummer from a death metal band has moved into her chest cavity. Another cue she is feeling stress! I make her sit next to me and I firmly hold her. Not forcefully, but as the adult in charge. We might discreetly work on breathing or counting. I will have her place her hand on her chest to feel her heart beat and work on slowing it down (I call that biofeedback for the poor, lol). I'll slowly "draw" the infinity symbol on her back, purposefully crossing the medial line to engage both sides of the brain.

We might escape to a bedroom and close the door and do some strong sitting in quiet. We can do quick brain shifts or some academics. I might ask her to spell "frog" or use the math trick. The answer doesn't matter in the slightest- it will shift the brain out of panic and fear and away from fight/ flight/ freeze. Other ideas- ask her favorite color, favorite tv show, etc. Think of it as driving a car with a manual transmission (good God, why do those things still exist). If the car is in 1st gear going 45 miles an hour you are going to wind up with a messed up car. You have to shift to bring it into safety.

Other things that have helped Genea and I survive:

Keep visits to other homes short. Short. Short as you can.

Plate your child's food for her. A buffet style or family style meal is going to overwhelm and freak out your little loved one.

Keep as many rules from home as possible. Example- we have a rule that you have to try everything on your plate with one bite, then you can decide not to eat it. Awkward and annoying to keep that rule at another persons home, but rules are reminders that someone is in charge and the child is safe.

Try not to "let it go because it is a holiday". I have wound up with 2 ungrateful, overstimulated brats on many occasions thinking I was giving the gift of fun and freedom from structure.

Get over the idea that this is your holiday too and you should be able to have some fun. Maybe you will, maybe you won't. Yes this will all be a lot of work. No, it probably isn't fair.

What about pushy relatives?

Those that are sure your RADish needs a fistful of crackers and you are just being too strict, you know them? They spend half the holiday trying to convince you that you are too hard on the child, you need to loosen up. Or the other where your child runs off totally out of control and just needs a good spanking. I have two lines that I have found will stop all opinions, second guessing, and unwanted "help".

1. Say this with your head tilted to the side and try to look tragic.

"You know, she will just never be totally sure that we won't abandon her too. No matter how long it has been she still doesn't quite fully believe we will always bring her home. Our rules may seem odd but she functions so much better with them".

Without fail, the "helpful" relative will make sad clucking noises, look off into the distance, and wander away. I think the it helps kick open the door that reminds people, we are not working from a regular box of chocolates here. Half the box isn't even candy.

2. Looking helpless or a little doubtful, shift the focus (blame) off of yourself.

"Mmmm hmmmm, her therapist (insert whatever professional you want) says we have to 'blank' for her to get better. You know, after all she's been through".

Around my relatives that will move immediately into a discussion about this feelings crap in society now-a-days, psychiatrists are nothing but drug pushers and the Big Pharmaceutical Companies are running the world. And then the subject of medical malpractice with both a malpractice attorney and a medical doctor in the house. Before the beer bottles actually start flying, get out of the way because no one cares about you anymore. (though, hmm, that might just be my family).

I realize the above ideas may turn folks off completely. Do what works for you. This is what has worked for me.

Now, on to gifts!

Around here, my kids get a lot of gifts. What a problem, right? No, it's not something I complain about. However with my children, too many new things at one time overwhelms them. Then they wind up playing with the box or an old cat toy from way under the couch. Spread it out.

We will do our family gifts 3 days before Christmas. No one has ever been arrested for opening gifts early. Winter Break from school starts five full days before the actual holiday this year- that's a long time and I'm sitting on a pile of new toys? Gifts mailed out from relatives get opened two days before. That will give the kids most of the next day to play with their new stuff.

I know many people feel they should be teaching their children delayed gratification. That kids should darn good and well learn to wait and they'll be better people for it. That is totally valid, and I get it. It's true. My thinking though, is that my daughter spent the first year and a half of her life in abject neglect. She was forced into a life where delayed gratification was the standard. Only it wasn't a new my- little- pony doll, it was food that was insubstantial. Hugs that never happened. Non existent stimulation. She knows too well what delayed gratification is because it damaged her brain and torpedoed her development.

Anyway, like I said, these are the things that have worked for us. You may have already tried every single thing on the list and none of it worked. For me, it's about maximizing the fun and helping my RADish be successful. We will absolutely still have fallout, but if we try to work at the problems ahead of time and have a plan for the other stuff, it helps.

I actually wrote this a few years back, but to this day we still do most of the same things. I've updated it and added a little. Of course Genea is older now and able to respond better so that helps.

So, opinions? Suggestions? What has worked for you and your family that is not typical? Fill me in, I will take all the help I can get!

Zero Dark Always

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 11 Nov 2014 17:04:00 +0000

I've worked with many children who suffered from the "trophy for showing up" trend, and the "criticize the action not the child" movement (prisons are full of people who believe they are disconnected from their actions!). For them to have come to me at my former job in the first place meant they had severe problems getting through each day. But as we worked through the issues and would have success, one specific blockade was awfully durable.

The kids felt, almost universally, they deserved fireworks and a Mardi Gras parade for showing an effort. Never mind what they were capable of, and for sure never mind what the rest of the day looked like. We could have a school suspension, been picked up by police- intoxicated, and said child expected a parade because when she came home she hung up her coat. Even though it should go in the closet and she hung it on a doorknob, because she remembered to bring it home and didn't throw it on the floor.

It was near impossible to get through to the kids what a minimum day should look like. That hanging up your coat is a basic expectation that should be done right, every time, without anyone telling you to do it. That hanging your coat does not erase the alcohol you stole. Hanging your coat does not even erase your snotty attitude. It is basic. It is a "zero".

Eventually I came up with the idea for a list I called Zero Dark Always. It uses a range of numbers from [-5] to [ +5] to describe what's expected, what could turn a good day bad, and what really would deserve a parade.

When Genea came to me last week genuinely confused why she was restricted from fun until a specific chore was done, I tried out a Zero Dark Always list. She said, "I do everything you tell me and I'm still grounded". The job was to wash the windows. Her attitude was so nasty and the job so half arsed, I really could not believe she didn't get it. She had ripped down a curtain at one window, breaking the rod. She had "fallen" down the stairs, actually hurting and bruising herself, to get out of it (didn't work, I knew she had done it deliberately and she admitted it later). She "accidentally" yanked a large set of heavy wooden blinds out of the wall. It bonked her in the face, making for another injury (still insists that one was real- I'm guessing the injury was not intentional but yanking down the blinds was). Screamed, cried and banged things around the entire time. About 1/2 the windows were worked on and of those, the job was 1/4 complete.

So what was my problem? She had shown up! And all those problems were from her actions, not her!

Anyway, here's what I wrote up for her.

{+5} great manners and attitude, helps w/o being asked, occupies self, pleasant/fun to be with, using calming before it's needed, gets everything done right away, needs no reminders
{+4} Good manners, keeps self busy, accepts changes, uses calming when annoyed
{+3} flexible, pleasant, helps out, extra music practice,
{+2} Calms with reminders, asks to help, positive attitude and voice
{+1} is quiet/not disruptive, accepts "no" the first time, dry bed, uses calming without complaining, respectful to everyone

"ZERO" : pick up your things, take care of all pea, polite, honest, no tantrums, listen the first time.
Does: chores, homework, music practice, hygiene and dressing. May need 1 reminder for 1 task.

{-1} complains, in others' business, does most of chores, needs 2 or more reminders for daily routine, fake crying, cooperates with calming after tantrum. Any issues with the cats.
{-2} whiny/short tantrums, uses mean voice, rude, noisy, corrects adults
{-3} nasty to others, stomps around, bangs things, ignores "no", ignores reminders, completes 1/2 or less of routine, resists calming
{-4} yelling, screaming, refusing to use calming
{-5} full volume crying/screaming, shrieking, hitting, destroys things, hurts self or others

So the point is not to push [+5] days every day. I expect a [+5] to come around about as often as a [-5]. Which is to say, almost never. If there are all [+5]'s, that could very well indicate something else was going on (like she ate all your candy bars and is hoping you won't notice. Just for example). The ideal mix would be zero to [+2], with a few [-1] or [ -2]'s here and there, because no one is perfect. Usually I would build in more room for reminders but with Genea, relentless unnecessary questions and confirmations are part of her issue. Everything is written down for her in detail and posted on the wall. Yes, it looks like a group home in here sometimes.

I haven't tried this with Genea before I guess because I thought she was too young to get it. And I have to say, had my own mother given me list like this I would have blown a gasket in 3 different languages. It should probably come from someone else, a therapist or teacher maybe. I did it for Genea because she asked. Obviously this one is specific to her.

But with the teenagers, after about a month they would be consistently over +2. Naturally they played it at first, and usually hovered at -1 or -2 in the beginning. The message had to be strong and unwavering, showing up is not enough. Usually, when they "got it", they got it good and would actually strive for higher numbers which was weird because that was not the goal at all.

I think, this is my opinion only, that most kids know smoke is being blown up their butts when people praise them for nothing. But as kids, they accept it and become complacent. It's easier to make half an effort and then go off for something more fun or to their own interest. They've known all along it was wrong, and felt disdain for the meaningless awards. It only builds an empty and dissonant confidence, and it makes for a far greater fall when the truth roars up.

Middle School Perils

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 22 Oct 2014 16:04:00 +0000

I'd be happy to report this was a normal "freak out" if in fact it was not me "freaking out". And if I was happy about it.

I should be more descriptive. It's less of a peril and more a landmine positioned on top of quicksand. In space.

Hints have been wafting through the fetid air of my house for weeks. I'd chosen to save my sanity by ignoring all of it. I've learned a lot of calming techniques over the past several years. Change my focus. Breathe. Do math in my head. Tap-tap-tap. The hints kept coming and I tapped harder, focused on bigger unicorns, exhaled the entire tidal volume of my lungs and attempted the Fibonacci sequence (I can do double digits now!).

There is a dance this week. At the middle school. Where my daughter attends! I sort of feel like I just announced they found snakes in the toilets or a sniper on the roof. Or both. How are you going to tell me my 4 year old is going to a school dance (in my head she's still 4- see that cute pic on the right sidebar? That's her, forever) that will have booooooooooys! Boys who might want to daaaaaaaaaaaance! WITH GENEA!

Because lemme tell ya, no hormone addled mini perv is going near my daughter. I'm not the kind of parent who wants to be friends with her kids friends. I want them to fear the sound of my footsteps in case a foot slips and lands where the sun don't shine. I want them to stutter when they speak to me. I want visible shaking. Because your limited life experience means you cannot even imagine what I will do to you if you touch my little girl. And it will hurt.

A few weeks ago, Genea came to me- very serious- to ask how she would know if she 'like' liked a boy, and how she would know if he 'like' liked her back. I covered my stomach with a pillow to hide the sudden onset abdominal convulsions and pinned my face with binder clips to reflect calm curiosity. My brain was screaming- get those thoughts out of your head right now little girl you are only four! Fortunately the screaming stayed in there and didn't fall out, so I asked her for details.

What passes for interaction these days slays me. This boy has an ipad, and doesn't let anyone watch him play on it except for her. Aaaaaaand, she thinks he is cute. ACKKKKKK!

Being only 4 years old, Genea had already jumped to wanting to ask him on a date.

HELLNO!

Okay, see honey, you're skipping a few steps there. What do you know about him (#anyfelonies)? What does he like (#betterhavenetnannyonthatipad) to do? What makes you think he might like you (#checkthesexoffenderlist)? What's his full name and address, parents names and occupations (#backgroundchecksforeverbody!)?

I get that this is the goal and I should be proud of Genea (I am). This is what moms are told to do- lay the groundwork when they're little so when big things start coming up kids come to us with them. I just think the theory is a much better thing as a theory. One I'd still be working towards. Sigh.

At any rate, thankfully Electronica Boy moved with just a few days notice and *poof* the issue is gone. I won't get that lucky again. And now this dance is coming.

*****

I'd like to interrupt myself with an elevator pitch. I was sent this super cute spa bag by simply bridal to review. I answered the original email by saying, my blog is about adoption and most of the people who read are already married! She wrote back- I know but check out our gifts! And sure enough! This is the cute spa bag:

(there's a way nicer pic on the link with all the different colors)

It holds full size bottles and such. For me though, it works awesome for my daily stuff of distraction. I was kind of surprised at how much fit in there. My tablet, day planner, knitting project with 2 skeins of yarn, water bottle, sunglasses, notepad and some pretzels. Anyway, it's really well constructed, super cute and can be monogrammed. The best thing though is the fabric can be easily wiped clean. UNLIKE my other travel- stuff bag which has a multitude of messy reminders all over it.

*****

So anyway. The dance is this week after school. It's even in the afternoon. I'm letting her go with a friend despite my reluctance. She's actually 11 years old. That's young, I think, for a boy-girl dance. But all the kids are in that range and if I can remember that far back, mostly there's a lot of ignoring and giggling going on between genders. It's a costume dance. I'm thinking she can be duct tape- which I'll apply. With precision.

Have I mentioned she's learning the saxophone? It's big and it's heavy. I gotta teach her how to swing that thing.

And then.....

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 14 Oct 2014 18:01:00 +0000

We saw Aladdin Friday night. The group rate must have been something awesome because we were in the 3rd row- I've never been so close in my life! Genea for sure never has. It was her first "Big Production" and she was in awe. She'd met Courtney (Jasmine) earlier that day and it was cool to see her perform.

Leaving the hotel to walk over to the theater.
(That's my- holy hell I hope we can find it if one more person tells me how easy nyc is to navigate and holds their hands up to show me a rectangle I'm gonna drop down and do the wango tango -face)
(Sigh, actually it's my -no my eyebrows are not sagging down to my chin because I'm so danged old if I lift them up they will look like they used to- face)

The theater was an amazing place with beautiful details. This is the main entrance.

A shot of the inside.

After, Aladdin and Jasmine came out to chat with the kids in their normal faces and clothes. Two ensemble members joined as well. They made a big deal about how flying the magic carpet is a Big Secret. Genea raised her hand to tell them she knew it was on wires- I shushed her just in time, in case anyone had not grasped that for themselves. She asked a different question then, about food that appears on a table. "Disney magic" was the answer. She has come so far- just a few years ago she would have frozen like a rock and now here she is asking chatty questions of Broadway theater performers!

We were told the cast exits the same door as the audience so we waited around to try to grab some autographs. However, the guy who told us that was lying- there were the expected back door exits and we were not there. Because we were here.

Yes actually, we did plan for her sweater to match the color scheme of the production.

At this point, it's like 11:30 at night and Genea's bed time passed us by 4 hours earlier. But, as Genea said, we had the "staying up late disease" city people get. We still had to walk back to the hotel and- wait! What's that? A gelato shop open at almost midnight? We couldn't pass up that opportunity, and btw, it was delicious!

Back at the hotel Genea was certain she was not... tired so..... she........ thunk- and- out.

Saturday morning was a tour bus thing called The Ride. I'm not sure how to even describe it- it was hilarious and definitely not the usual tour bus! There were 3 rows of stadium type seats running sideways and 2 hosts to facilitate. They had microphones that could talk to people outside, which was wild. At a red light, they were talking to a man with a delivery package and broadcasting music when the man started tap dancing right there on the street. Similar things happened at each red light and we finally realized it was set up that way, lol.

It was raining- which I had prepared for but we still got wet- and we had planned to go to the TKTS booth (the place with the huge red stairs where The Amazing Race started this year) but even in the rain the line was ridiculous. They are in Times Square and sell theater tickets at a discount 3 hours before a show and usually have great deals. I knew I wanted to take Genea to see Mama Mia because she suuuuuuuper loves ABBA, so we slogged over to the theater and got good seats straight from the source, and for the same (or better) discount!

Seats were pretty good!

Following the show we did more tourist-ing.

This is from the Disney Store. They use these mannequins that I just think are creepy. They are all basically the same with different "skin" tones. A clown crawling out of a sewer grate would be less creepy. In my opinion.

Sunday was check out and we packed ourselves up but still had 4 hours until our airport bus would arrive (whee!). Genea and I walked over to the Museum of Modern Art, which was a block away, to browse their design stores. I'd heard they have something to do with innovation and inventions and awards? Anyway, they had cool stuff to see and play with.

AND THEN, we went back to the hotel and waited for "maggiek", who often comments here and on other blogs. She came with her children to meet us and go on a backstage tour of Radio City Music Hall. How cool was that of her!

That was something special because we got the rare chance to go on stage!!!!!!!!!! They said, "it almost never happens"!!!

We're Rockettes on a day off in our normal clothes. Seriously.

Why yes, I did take a picture of the bathroom. I love art deco and this was gorgeous!

Looking down from maybe the 2nd floor balcony? I think there were 4 stories of seating.

We bummed around with maggiek and her adorable daughters and headed over to Rockefeller Center. maggiek is lovely and her daughters are polite and silly and cute. Here is one of them photo bombing us-

Here I am with that damn scarf again. You'd think I didn't bring 2 other choices!

Everything was as perfect as could be. For Genea, it showed her a world of experiences and choices she hadn't even imagined. She loved everything we did and never got "symptomatic". She was flexible, she went with the flow, she put in her opinion. She didn't seem to get overwhelmed and it was crazy overwhelming! She was happy and enjoyable, calm and pleasant. Wonderful.

Then came,

The airport of doom.

Can I just vent?

Dear Southwest Airlines- you can call it "open seating" all you want. When you divide passengers into 3 separate groups for boarding, then divide each of those into 2 more groups, then have them line up in groups of 4 to stand next to a sequentially numbered pillar (and don't you dare mess up your pillar) YOU HAVE JUST ASSIGNED SEATS!!! Who do you think you are kidding?

(I really like Southwest and normally wouldn't bitch about a few mishaps but this was ridiculous)

It was so fucked up, seriously. We were at the end of the last group to board and Genea and I could not sit together. I was lucky to find 2 middle seats, one behind the other. One row had 2 enormous buffalo men and the other had 2 lovely, fit women. I debated with myself for just a second before I directed Genea (the smaller of us) to the spacious seat with room to hula dance between the 2 women, while I jammed myself in between the buffaloes. And you know what else? They were both armrest assholes.

But we did not have it the worst. Just before boarding another mom who had come with her 2 young girls approached me with tears in her eyes. She asked if I would watch out for her daughters on the plane and make sure they were okay through Milwaukee and on to Green Bay. There were only 2 seats left on the plane and she was going to send them alone so they could get home, leaving her to flounder around LaGuardia indefinitely. Ultimately people bumped and she got on, but what a horrible plan to have to make.

And so, we got home around 1 AM. And I was sad when no one came to make my bed in the morning or bring me dry towels. And Genea went to school Monday because I was like- hey, you want to be a performer, this is the performer life dude! I however, went back to bed after the kids went to school and slept until 2:00.

IT WAS SO FABULOUS AND THANK YOU AGAIN TO EVERYONE WHO HELPED US OUT!

As promised, I am lowering the price of Parenting Pandora significantly. Mwah!

Here, and probably staying forever

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 04 Oct 2014 22:50:00 +0000

NYC is fabulous!

We left Thursday morning at 4:30 AM, otherwise known as the buttcrack of dawn.

and got in at about 1:00. Our bus from the airport took the kids straight to their first workshop- with the cast of The Lion King! Parents went to the hotel and dragged in all the bags. I'm not going to say we over packed because I like options, but maybe the over flow bag was one too many.

ANyWAY, the kids met us at the hotel and we went to Ellen's Stardust Diner- where the wait staff also puts on a show. So much awesome! Here we are....

The guy standing in the middle was standing on a table singing- they were so good it was scary.

So, when a group of performers goes to a diner to see performers, you get a lot of back up vocals and assistance with your chorus. It was cute.

After dinner I thought we would be exhausted but we weren't. Genea said she thought we probably got that disease that makes people in the city stay up all night. We decided to go to the 9/11 memorial. We got out "in the area, right over there". We walked a few feet, turned around, turned around again, and asked for help. I thought it would be obvious- there are 2 enormous water features, but I couldn't find it. Just about every 20 feet there was a city police officer, so that was really helpful and I spoke with each one individually. Finally the last guy was like, you're there. Oh. Oh!

It was incredibly quiet and peaceful, with a small crowd. I know there is some controversy around it, but I thought it was beautiful. Names of those killed surround the edges of the square pond and are backlit. Water is pooled around the edge up high, then cascades into a pool and disappears into a smaller square at the bottom. Here are pictures I took.

Friday, it was off to another workshop with Jasmine (aka Genea's new best friend Courtney) from Aladdin. They ran some scenes and got critiqued. According to Genea, she got no critique. Instead they told her she showed great emotion and expression. True/not true, I don't care, works for me!

While she was there, I bopped over to Grand Central Terminal and met Casa Bicicleta! Hold your green stones people, she was as awesome as she seems! And totally adorable! Here is a picture she took of me:

(I dunno, it didn't LOOK like an old lady scarf when I put it on!)
I don't have a picture of her and she keeps pics private on her blog so I didn't ask. I guess that means my claim is suspicious and without evidence.

Genea and I spent the time afterward roaming Times Square. In my persistent quest to find a benefit to some of the more *ahem* intrusive behaviors, I have to say Genea seems born to live here. Child maneuvered crowds like a pro! Her compulsion to be first in line, first to "get", first to see, makes her incredibly quick and worm-like when getting to her goal. I think she walks faster than she runs- and I'm no crowd slouch, I've long considered myself a crowd-maneuvering savant.

(I would decide later I don't like all those people. It's not that I mind the crowds per se, its that I cannot stand any of the people in front of me blocking my way with their picture taking, map reading, confusion).

Toys r Us here has an actual live Ferris Wheel inside. WHAT? I was excited we got the Barbie car.

We also stopped in the M&M store. I've seen one before, Vegas maybe? But this one was 3 stories tall. Genea was highly impressed with the unique colors.

Wow, so yeah, this is all still Friday and I haven't got to the evening yet!

Okay, last thing. When you are in a place like New York City, you sample from the world renown cuisine right? The top restaurants anywhere are right here. Genea agreed. She's pretty good about trying new food but not so good about liking new food. So we went super- exotic.

Genea is getting antsy so I will continue this later. I have to say again, THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who helped us- including CH for her donation. It has been absolutely amazing and I'm pretty sure I'm going to stay!

Parenting Pandora

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 24 Sep 2014 15:15:00 +0000

"You held out your hands, opened your arms, and accepted the puzzle that is your child. It's a puzzle make of up of 1000 pieces. The picture on the box does not match what is inside. There are missing pieces, but also the pieces of a dozen other puzzles mixed in. It is impossible to put the whole puzzle together as it was new. Some pieces will never be found".
Quote from Parenting Pandora, section titled "It's Not Your Fault", by Essie Johnson.

Parenting Pandora

See, I wrote this little e-booklet thing to raise funds for the trip Genea and I are taking to visit Broadway in NYC. I don't own a cookie sheet so a bake sale was out of the question. We did a car wash, and raised $34.00, and that will cover some food, which is cool. I thought I would explain a little about the contents of my booklet and maybe sell a few more!

(hint- go to the end for a coupon!)

My main premise is that the kids compulsively manipulate to control their constant internal anxiety by forcing the people around them to act predictably.

"Child, you sucked the nothing out of me six months ago!"

I cover relentless attention seeking, and why negative attention is not negative to the child with Reactive Attachment Disorder. Why that fake charming behavior in public is actually a good thing. I suggest using inconsistency to change unwanted behavior and talk about why standard parenting techniques do not work when your child has RAD. Here is an example:

Love and Logic does not work because "a child with RAD has not developed a system of logic that responds to loving guidance. Her logic developed in response to trauma".

(consider the booklet as a gift for teachers, therapists, family or friends!)

Included is a brilliant, if I do say so myself, idea for managing voluntary daytime pea-ing. Perhaps the best idea I ever had about anything. In addition, is my unusual opinion on why kids with RAD are so dedicated to pea-ing.

Of the ways suggested to manage lying, is this. Let them lie and watch closely for "tells". If there aren't any perceptible "tells", plant one.

The booklet is self published. Reading through it again, that fact stands out even more than it did originally. Admittedly it is a little janky. I really tried to be clear and not wander off on tangents and such, but some of it reads very 'amateur'.

The beauty of self publishing is there was no editor to remove my *ummm* jokes. Here's my favorite "The child is told to wipe down the kitchen table after lunch. She does, and it's an excellent job on all but one conspicuous corner. I call that the "F-you spot". Heh heh, still makes me laugh.

The unfortunate side is there was no editor to say, this is stupid and makes no sense!
(I did recruit a lovely friend to give it a look. Hi Tia! She's why it's not super awful)

SO! I am offering a discount coupon for the time up until our trip. 20% off!
Go here:
Parenting Pandora
The link goes to Smashwords, the publisher I used. You can download to any e-reader right there! Kindle, Nook or others. It will also download to any computer or i-gadget.

Then enter this coupon code:
JK43W

That will bring the price down to 10 bucks and change. I programmed in a free sample which gives the first 20% of the book. I did not understand how it worked until after I put up the final copy so the sample is just some introduction and not really the good stuff. However, it is free :)

If anyone wants to put this on their facebook or twitter or whatever else, I will give you a big juicy smooch! If anyone leaves a better-than- suckass review on Smashwords you will get TWO smooches! (Does not apply to anyone I will meet in the next couple weeks). (Ok, honest truth, I'm only saying that because it won't happen).

When Genea and I return from NYC, my plan is to drop the price significantly. I would feel like a shitty person if I was not upfront about that. So if you are truly interested but cannot afford the $10, hang on.

Remember, if you are like, but WAIT ESSIE! I want to send Genea more! Or, I don't want your janky booklet can I just send funds? YES! Use the link on the left that says "Broadway Bound" to send us a much appreciated donation.

Speaking of, a BIG THANK YOU to AKP for your recent donation!

I'm SO freaking excited to be doing this! Genea is starting to have nerves about the changes in her routine, and it will be hellish until we leave. So she's SUPER excited and a bit flippy too. Once the anticipation is over she's always happier and she'll have a fabulous time.

The first stop after we get off the plane is a theater where she will workshop with an actor who has been in The Lion King for 20 years. Parents are not invited- we go to the hotel. So I asked her if she would be okay by herself, thinking she would be scared to death about it, and offered to take up the issue and insist on my presence. No, she said, I'll be okay because you'll be with me the rest of the time.

I'd be a lousy southerner

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 16 Sep 2014 13:02:00 +0000

Where do you go when you want to take a vacation but all your funds are tied up, choking and gagging?

You impose the hell out of yourselves on relatives, of course!

The Husband's grandmother from way south Ohio moved into an assisted living place, leaving her home of 70 years empty. To kill 2 birds with one minivan, we ventured out onto A Dreaded Road Trip of Brain Death. We could stay at Granny's house, visit Granny, and roam to random places of interest in Kentucky. We could visit with other extended family too, those who refer to my kids as "yer young'uns".

So one might think I dread the road trip because of my charming family. One kid with ADHD in the 97th percentile, and one with DSM- NOS,( also known as more mental health diagnosis' than can be counted on one hand). And lest we forget, a husband who loves minutiae more then gravy.

That's not it, actually. Truth is, it's me who is miserable on a long drive. Its awkward and uncomfortable to knit or read. I get so antsy and bored my brain feels like it was replaced with steel wool and everything else in there set on fire, whether I'm driving or not. Plus, I am annoying and short tempered. I even annoy myself. But gawwwwwwd I get SOoooooooo BORED!

At any rate, that's what we did. It's a 10 hour drive to Granny's house, a fantastic microcosm of every decade since 1940 (specific post to follow because omg, that house!).

Here are my observations of Kentucky.

People talk funny. HA! No, what was striking was the dramatic difference over the border. Ohio-ins have a typically Midwest sort of accent with the strong vowels mellowed, where Kentucky-ins have an outright full blown southern accent, to the extent I had to translate for the kids! The Husband pointed out, the Ohio- Kentucky border is the line between being a northerner or a southerner. I did not know this bit of trivia.

(side note- growing up in the Chicago area, my education was ethno- Chicago- centric. We were taught many "facts" putting Chicago in charge of the US. Such as, newscasters around the country take elocution lessons to learn how to speak like Chicagoans. Not exactly true).

HOLY CRAP THE BUGS! Bugs the size of vermin. Several bugs that carried weapons. One spider looking thing that was wearing a black leather biker jacket and toting an AK- 47. Only I've never seen a real life spider that big and so maybe it was some mutated giraffe. Pictures to follow, so YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, skip the pics!

Inhabitants of Kentucky do not find me funny. It's possible they find me appalling. Ooops. I cracked to a cashier that my family needed badly to shower. Maybe I added that in my opinion, it could take several showers to undo the funk. She made that half-laugh -omg grunt sound as when a person is horrified and doesn't want to be rude about it. She repeated the words "OH MY", alternating with that grunt, 6 times. I wonder if she was struck with the genius of my comedic comment. Maybe not.

Mammoth Cave is big. There is no cell service down there.

Kentucky is beautiful. Lush, rolling hills with lots of green. Highways are clear of billboards and lined with trees. I say that as the sandwich topping to my next comment.

We went to a Wal Mart, in Kentucky, on a Sunday night. Yikes. As Mr. McKay on South Park says, "drugs are bad, mmmkay?". Zowie. Seems I saw on a news magazine show they have a bad meth problem in Kentucky. Can confirm.

Other side of the sandwich- the people who are not on meth are really nice. People are friendly, pleasant and helpful. Genuinely kind. They smile and were extra sweet to the kids. Called them "Beautiful little darlin'" and such.

(I'm not judging the people on meth, they might be very nice too, I just didn't talk to any since they seemed in a hurry).

Photographic evidence of vermin sized bugs:
(hoo-da-hell goes on vacation and takes pictures of bugs?)

What is this thing?

Meet Satan's Spider. It's a sucky picture because I was not going to get any closer, and it's like 12x's magnified. The white blob is a water faucet. The black blob to the right is the spider.

This appears to be an orange wasp. Freaky thing was the size of my fist. It threatened me and gave me the finger. IT DID.

After my evidently offensive comment about unpleasant stenches, I tried to be more culturally sensitive and use nicer language. I hollered across a room to The Husband (I guess that was probably not great, the hollering) I was taking the girls to the "delicate ladies resting room". So naturally, the girls were all like, WHAT? WHERE ARE WE GOING? WHY ARE WE GOING THERE? I NEED TO GO POTTY!

So! The south! I think they'd prefer I stay north. Too bad though, because I really liked it.

You've got this!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 05 Sep 2014 16:31:00 +0000

Starting a new school year is not easy for someone who dislikes change. Even though it's the same thing every year, it's the disruption in day to day living that will change. And, a new year is NEW so therein we have a double offense to our gossamer thin sensibilities.

I've written about the really hard transitions Genea has going from summer break - back to school several times. Notably because they have sucked mightily. We spent many an August month marinating in every circle of hell Dante thought up. Plus, I'm certain we invented a few more.

At any rate, I was pretty sure nothing less than renting out all of Disney World for ourselves would make a dent in this summers transition. It's been especially evil this time because...

*cue drama music*

Genea changed over to middle school.

Just the thought has sent my nerves tap dancing every year since she started kindergarten! The dread, I tell you, my stomach clenches just writing this. Not only was middle school the setting for The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, it brings so many changes, oh dear lord the changes!

So we have talked about it A LOT. She had the usual fears, but escalated to hot-air balloon proportions. Since *we* still are not terribly clear on expressing ourselves with words and using our multiple calming strategies, *we* rely on our faithful EPIC TANTRUM. The Husband and I have done so much coaching we could write 7 books and still have plenty more to report. My best advice has been, smile, say hi, keep your tongue tucked in your mouth, and it will work out. We told her, everyone is nervous, teachers too (she didn't believe me until I texted a college professor friend who confirmed). Even if it is the worse day of your life -and it won't be- it WILL end. Whatever happens, at 3:00 it's over.

Then I thought, if I describe to her some of the other scary things she has done over the past several years, she might see that while this is big, she has done LOTS of hard things and come out fine (ish).

"Look at ALL the hard stuff you have done! You rode a horse! You walked to the park by yourself! You went zip-lining! You put your face under water! You perform on stage! You ride a bike! You did all that stuff and you can do middle school too! You've got this!"

I even told her I expected a whopper tantrum. Before anyone calls the Rotten Parenting Commission, I had reason. Because sometimes, it's okay. She would be doing a lot of new things and it would all be really hard on her. It might be too many things to manage and if it was overwhelming, go ahead and let it out. We'd work through it when she was done. With great pride (yes, that go-eth before great fall, I know), it turned out she handled it all minus the meltdown!

She accepted my offer of a ride the first day. We actually drove her to school for several years to avoid the chaos and frazzle of the morning bus. I always felt if she started her day freaked out because she could not control all those other kids, she would not make it through school without falling apart. Oh yeah, and learning stuff too. She took the bus home everyday. Anyway, she did not want me to walk her in, just drop her off in front of the building.

Whoa.

I appreciate it if you read through all this. Truth is, it's mostly a post so I have an excuse to brag and post these super cute pics.

First day of kindergarten! OMG she was so cute and LITTLE!

GET. Me. OFFA. This. BUS!

Waiting to leave. Excellent posture suggests extreme stress.

Getting there. I told her dumb jokes and she relaxed a little.

Walking the wrong way to enter the building. Ah well, she figured it out. I dropped her off a good 20 minutes early.

She rocked her first day of middle school.

She's got this!

What the EPIGENETIC?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 22 Aug 2014 12:56:00 +0000

Quick Take:
A recent study found evidence that child abuse, and trauma from abuse, causes actual changes in the body.

I came across some interesting- to- me stuff, and thought it might be interesting -to- other- people too. So I'm going to write about it as I understand it, given their excessive (IMO) use of ultra big words and fancy terms.

The study focused on epigenetic changes in children who had been abused. "Epigenetic" is when a gene changes in response to something external. So, lets say you put a hot dog in the microwave for too long and it splits (but on the inside where you can't see it, to make the example work). It started as a hot dog and is still a hot dog. It's still made out of beef or whatever, but a part has been changed. The microwave caused an epigenetic change.

When a child is abused, it flips a switch in their bodies and changes their genes. The switch makes stuff called "methyl group". Methylation can wake up certain genes and put other genes down for a nap. The genes have now been changed, and are activated for cancer, autoimmune disease, mental disorders, and diabetes.

Credit to Epigenetic Mechanisms National Institute of Health

Here is a very readable link for details Abuse Casts a Long Shadow by Changing Children's Genes

The gene that helps manage stress, NR3C1, was altered following traumatic abuse. And guess what NR3C1 affects? Cortisol! And the Adrenal gland! It makes a burst of energy and amps up vigilance while shutting down processes that are not important during the perceived emergency.

So does it seem like kids with RAD are stuck in fight or flight? They are!

Like the kid wakes up already amped and on edge? Yes!

Like once she gets going in a meltdown she can't pull herself out of it and it goes on forever? Totally true!

Research in epigenetics proves children are not resilient (I so totally fucking hate that phrase). They are changed by what happens to them. It also shows why a child who experienced traumatic abuse as a baby for example, has problems from it decades later.

The good news is, this is not bad news! Before the study on children was a study on rats that was essentially the same. When the rats were later paired with nurturing mothers, the gene went back to the way it started. No one has figured out how to reverse the change in a human yet, but there is a huge puzzle piece filled in.

The next time someone says, "you're too hard on her/ too easy on her, have you tried *fill in the blank?*", you can tell them this: "We are trying our best to help her but her NR3C1 gene has been methylated and epigenetically altered, what do you suggest?".

Epigenetics yo'! This stuff is so cool!

Housekeeping

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 12 Aug 2014 19:23:00 +0000

It's time to arrange a few things.

I have a blog list going on the sidebar here, and many of them are older than dirt. If you want your blog listed, I will be happy to pull my hair out, scream new cuss words, and ultimately, list your blog.

Giving out a BIG FAT THANK YOU to all the people who donated to our trip. I'm not sure how to manage etiquette vs. personal information. To the following folks, MWAHHH!

PC
MK
CW
DS
WJ
AM
CC

I wanted to write out first names, but one is fairly distinctive and after all, I don't use MY real name here so I just did not want to risk any sort of anything. Anyway, seriously, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I've been awed, each time I see a donation in my email, to think that people I've never met (some who have never even commented in the 6 years this blog has been around) are helping us out. It's amazing!

THANK YOU as well to people who bought a book! I have no way of knowing who you are, though out of the 6 there are only a couple mysteries, ha ha.

For fun, a few one-liners around here this week:

Genea: "I sure am glad I got stuck in a home I love"!

I came out of the shower and the mirror was fogged up except for the writing, which said, "I knew you were TROUBLE". Courtesy of Teena, the Taylor Swift fan.

Unknown family member: "Sometimes I go to grab a t-shirt from the laundry and grab underwear instead. They're both huge".

I have had the most brain splintering headache for 2 weeks now. I don't think it's allergies, but I don't know what it is. I want to smash my head through concrete because that would hurt less.

I am shocked and stunned by the news of Robin Williams suicide. I look at him, the homeless street person, and my daughter and see the same thing. It is a profound tragedy when a person cannot trust their own mind to accurately relay the world around or inside of them.

Hoping for Help!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 24 Jul 2014 16:04:00 +0000

Last year Genea started taking performing arts classes at a studio near by. She has been singing, dancing, acting, and most recently, tapping her little feet out for local audiences. At Christmas, the whole studio does a show at our largest venue and this year, it was filmed and shown on PBS stations across the state. So, it's a serious thing.

She is somewhere in there, I swear!

Genea has gone from a shuddering, soggy, mess of hair to a sort- of confident and brave performer. She gets excited and struggles with a triple dose of overwhelming anxiety but to her, it's worth it to push through and try her best.

Girl can sing. Not just I'm-her- mom- I have- to -say-that sing, really sing. She has a beautiful, sweet voice with a natural vibrato that is startling to hear from a kid. She is starting private voice lessons in the fall, and earned her way to a higher level ensemble group at the studio.

So, am I just bragging or what?

Well, I'm super squeamish about this. My bragging is about to turn into begging.

This fall, the studio is taking a trip to New York City and Genea and I signed up! We will stay in Times Square and spend a lot of time in Broadway theaters. She will attend performance workshops, see a professional show and go back stage. Meet real actors and actresses, and be able to ask questions.

NYC is an expensive place and the trip, while pricey, is within a reasonable range as far as these things go. The problem is, Genea and I have to have our own hotel room. Most people are sharing rooms, which cuts the cost down by a huge chunk. I guess if anyone has been reading here for a while, it is easy to imagine why we cannot share a room with another mom/daughter. Just Genea's medication list would probably scare the crap out of any regular family, not even considering the ocean front bedding issue. Regardless, it's going to be a LOT for Genea and so far out of her comfort zone she will be able to touch Jupiter. There's no way we could go if room sharing were required- thankfully we have the choice. We just have to pay for it.

*Begging Alert*
(argh, the hair on my legs is cringing I dread this so much)
If anyone out there should, you know, think they maybe might want to help out in the financial department here, there are a couple things.

I wrote a tiny little short 40+ page e-booklet about Reactive Attachment Disorder. For the longest time my biggest struggle with Genea was why. Why is this happening, why is this not working, why am I getting this reaction, why why why. I wrote down what I figured out, and threw in some tips, tricks and idea's. It probably sucks. Argh. Anyway.

It's available on Smashwords.com It is called Parenting Pandora, Understanding Reactive Attachment Disorder. Written by me, Essie Johnson. It is priced at $12.99 which should result in an $8-$9 dollar donation for our trip. It can be purchased directly from Smashwords for any e-reader and in about a week it will show up on book retailer sites like Amazon, B&N, ibooks, etc.

I got the title, Parenting Pandora, from the Greek myth and not from the ipod app. Pandora was a goddess given all the best qualities at birth. At her wedding, she received a gift from Zeus. When she opened the box, the evils of the world were released. All that was left in the box was hope.

"But wait Essie, what if I just want to send like, a thousand dollars but don't want your ebook"?
I thought of that! I put up a link to Pay Pal on the top left sidebar hoping for donations.

SO THERE YOU GO! I am sucking it up and doing this, lol. I know people do fundraisers all the time on blogs so I shouldn't be flipping my lid but I AM. I am actually planning to cut costs and take an electric kettle so we can sort-of- cook. I figure I can pack a bunch of protein bars, fruit, ramen noodles and instant coffee which should save us a couple hundred bucks. We are having a garage sale fundraiser for ourselves, and doing car wash fundraisers with the studio for group workshops.

If anyone can help us out it will be SO GREATLY APPRECIATED YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!!!!!!

AND, if you like the book and could link it on your facebook groups, message boards, twitter etc I would be SO happy!

Parenting Pandora

(Click the words not the picture. Surely there is a way to imbed the link right in the picture but I surely do not know what that might be)