Adoption is LOSS . . .

Today I was directed to an amazing article entitled, "Adoptee View: What Can a Tiny Baby Know?".  It is something that everyone, whether involved in the world of adoption or not, should read.    It is powerful stuff. 

"Adoption is a trauma that happens to a child. The child is torn away from her biological mother, placed in the arms of strangers and is left with questions, doubts, fears and anxiety with no way to verbalize, express, mourn or contextualize those feelings. Though the common misconception is that a child won’t remember any of it many psychologists believe, with evidence to support, that children remember their birth and the following events, including relinquishment and adoption, up to the age of three."

Even as a fairly clueless foster parent, I refused to have my foster kiddos call me "Mom".  I found it disrespectful to their birth parent and not a good practice for the child when it can to attachment. The foster children in our home either chose to call us by our given names or they could choose Aunt and Uncle.  I did have one girl who asked if she could refer to me a school as her mom because she didn't want to be different.  I totally understood and told her I was okay with that if she chose.  I recall her whispering in my ear, "I know you are not my mom and please don't tell my real mom because it will hurt her."  I knew that day that we were making the right decision.  

As an adoptive parent, I have never felt like I am a saint for bringing my adopted child into my family.  I resent it when people talk about what we did as a miracle.  I hate when people tell us we are special.  I hate when they say that my son is LUCKY to have us.  He isn't LUCKY.  I bet if you asked him he would've rather been LUCKY enough to have a parent who could raise him in his own family.  I bet he would tell you that the abuse he suffered to get to us wasn't LUCKY.   While I understand their sentiments,  I know where their heart is, but it is basically a slap in the face of my son's journey.  His journey is ugly, hard, tragic and filled with grief.  There is nothing LUCKY about it.

 "Research shows that, at birth, a baby is able to recognize her mother’s voice. Within a few days of birth she will recognize familiar faces, voices and smells and be drawn to them. With research showing that babies do have a memory, in contradiction to long held beliefs, it becomes unreasonable to assume that a baby would not remember or recognize (at a visceral and thus almost imprinting level) the loss of her mother upon separation."

I know as a pregnant momma I spent hours talking to my baby.  We are told by doctors to read to our children in utero and play music.  We are told after birth they like to hear our heartbeat because they heard it all the time in the womb.  We are foolish to think that that baby who is removed from their birth mother won't experience trauma that that voice, that sound, that smell, that presence is no longer there. 

I had a friend this week tell me that her family is considering adopting an international teenager.  I hate that my first thought was "No!".  I am sad and ashamed that I cried for her family.  While I support her in her decision I wept that her life (and of course the child's life) will be turned upside down.  I prayed for guidance and I messaged her asking if I could share my heart.  Thankfully she was open to what I had to say.  I explained that if she went into this thinking everything was rainbows and unicorns that she would be extremely disappointed.  That if she went into this thinking that she was going to "save" a child and give them a better life and they would be eternally grateful to come to America she would be sorely mistaken.  I wanted her to go into this with her eyes wide open.  I wanted her to adjust her expectations so they are not dashed and she ends up on the other side battered and bleeding asking me why I didn't tell her it would be this hard. I explained that it could be not quite so terrible, but it wouldn't be easy.  And the "hard" that it is is not the "hard" you have ever experienced.  It changes you in ways you never knew existed.  It cuts and it hurts.  When you finally come to the understanding that you, even through the best of intentions, are a part of the pain that your child is experiencing, it is heartbreaking.  It is life changing.  It takes your breath away.  When you understand that small piece, you understand the pain of attachment issues.

That being said, I will support her in whatever she chooses.  I will be her greatest champion.  I will rejoice if it goes swimmingly.  I will support her and her family in any way I can!  She will make the best choice for her and her family, I just wanted to keep it real from my perspective.

 The article talks about the two different ways that kids react to adoption and the loss is creates.  I can't do the subject any more justice than he did . . .

"Every adopted child, allow me to reiterate, every adopted child falls into one of two categories. She either acts out and is difficult or is quiet, adaptable and compliant. Of course the degree to which each adoptee acts out or becomes compliant is individual.
 
Some who act out will go to the extreme of running away from home, threatening their adoptive parents, rebel academically and even attempt suicide. A 2001 study shows that of teens in grades 7 through 12, 7.6% of adopted teens had attempted suicide compared with 3% among their non-adopted peers. The compliant child may become a model citizen in school as well at home or she may just kind of fade into the background, trying not to be noticed or cause trouble. Either way they are both reactions to the trauma of being adopted.

The child who acts out, is, in essence, attempting to initiate some form of rejection from parents, teachers, peers and others in order to prove that she is unlovable or she finds herself rejecting these same people prior to being rejected by them. This type of child is obviously troubled and it is easy to identify as needing help. However, parents and therapists often try to counsel the child into acting more appropriately, instilling tough love or even unknowingly furthering the child’s abandonment issues by sending them to boarding school, camp or other such institutions. Rarely do adoptive parents and counselors see this behavior as a reaction to her adoption trauma. They are never truly treating the source of the wound.

For the compliant child the situation can actually be much more devastating. As a compliant child who is either not causing problems or actually well engaged and visibly successful, she is not seen as having any problems at all. Parents see this child as well adjusted to life, including being adopted, and with no outwardly troubling signs of concern, this child is often overlooked and not given any form of counseling or assistance in dealing with life or emotional wounds. It is difficult for anyone to see that the child who is often referred to as, “mature for her age” or “pleasant and articulate,” is actually in equal distress to the child who is acting out. Both are hurting, both are devastated by the trauma of relinquishment and both have no way to articulate, understand, contextualize or grieve the loss they have endured.

These two behavior types present themselves at various ages, though adolescence is the most common time for them to reach their strongest levels. Additionally, some may actually experience both behavior types, switching from one to the other depending on their environment or transition back and forth throughout maturity. Also noteworthy is that no matter the age of adoption, infant through teen, all adoptees essentially suffer from the same issues."

For me, these paragraphs were eyeopening.  While talking to people about our adoption struggles, I have often said something like, "You could be fortunate, your child might escape these issues, they may do well with the loss surrounding adoption." I think the author does a good job of mentioning that even though a child is compliant and seems to adjust well, there are still underlying issues that need to be addressed to help them become a well rounded, productive adult who is happy in their own skin.  Depending on the child, I think this could be done just by parents being open and honest about the issues.  I think individuality it a HUGE part of this.  Every child is different.

As I have progressed in my own journey and dealt with my son's "demons" I have come to see that we are waging a war.  A war with what he believes to be true and what he feels.  It is ugly.  It is hard.  It is something he will never, ever forget.  I can only hope that I am able to help him through it to be who he is meant to be.


 

Collateral Damage . . .

I worry.  It is who I am and who I will likely always be.  I worry about things  that I have no control over.  I worry about things I cannot change.   I worry abut worrying.

Lately by biggest worry has been my 2 younger kiddos.  I worry that raising them in a home that is as chaotic as mine and as crazy as ours can be will "break" them.  I  worry that all the attention given to Dustin will make them feel "less".  I worry that they are not getting what they need from me as a parent.  Are they getting a tired, grumpy and on edge parent?  They deserve better.

Logically, I can tell myself that no one grows up in a optimal environment and that this life will make them more compassionate, more patient and more loving.  Logically, I can tell myself that I am doing the best we are doing the best we can and it will all come out in the wash.  But it is HARD.  It is hard to see them struggle.  It is hard to see them get frustrated that their 17 year old brother is on the porch in his underwear when we come home from daycare.  It is hard to see them get angry that he can't just do what he is asked.  I hate seeing them grouching at him.  I hate hearing them say "Can't you just listen for once!?"  I hate denying them the ability to go somewhere as a family because it is a place that Dustin can't handle the sensory aspect of.  I hate saying no to sleepovers and play dates at our house because of what I would be exposing other children to.

Today is teacher conferences at their school.  I know that both kids will get talked to about not completing homework.  In reality, that is more my fault than theirs.  Typically they get fabulous grades and do well in class. Our life is so chaotic in the evenings, homework is one of the last things I push.  Most nights we scrap it in order to have some semblance of family time or Dustin is so out of hand that nothing would get done anyway.  It is my issue and something I am going to have to address with the teachers.  I hate airing our "dirty" laundry, but sometimes I feel like it has to be done.  I hate feeling like a failure not being able to juggle it all.

Both of my kids have definitely inherited a piece of my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and I think that s where the problem lies.  The way that is presents itself is different in each child, but our household and it's atmosphere is not helping.  I have to come up with a way to calm the entire house and to make each child feel as though they are an integral and important part of our home.  And maybe they already feel that way and these are my own insecurities spilling over!  I thought as the kids got older, it would be easier, and it seems to just present new challenges and hiccups. 

There are no easy answers.

Rough . . .

Things have been rough around here lately. We have had another incident in public the weekend after the last post.  It was not too drawn out because I caught him before he actually took off.  But we became a spectacle in he parking lot when people began gawking at us and I lost my cool.

Last weekend, Dustin spent a half hour on the corner of our busy street at about 10:00 at night in his underwear in freezing temperatures.  At first, I left him thinking he would come home, but later it became obvious that it was going to take coaxing to get him home.  It was not fun.

This week has been better, but today I got screamed at for most of the day.  Fun times. 

We did just turn in paperwork to file for guardianship of Dustin when he turns 18 next month.  Makes me wonder if we are making the right decision.  The problem is I am not sure there is any other decision to make.  He has no options and I made a  commitment to him knowing that he would not be able to live on his own at 18. We are doing the right thing.  I just wish it wouldn't be so damn difficult.

Ergh, embarrassment . . .

Yesterday I had to run some errands and help a friend with a home improvement project.  I took Dustin and McCartney and then we decided we would go do a bit of shopping.   Heading into Kohls he asked if we could go to the pet store.  The answer was no.  He obsesses over pet stores and truly I was not in the mood for it today.  I told him we were going to the mall next and I would get him a pretzel.  I could tell in his eyes that was not acceptable and he was going to make me pay for it. 

Once we were inside he kept venturing farther and farther away from me.  I ignored it.  I could tell he wanted me to chase him.  We have not had an issue in public like this for a long time, not since our trip to Kmart where the police were actually involved.  I decided that I would not chase him and I actually needed to try on some undergarments so I would just let him wander the store.  I was fairly confident he would not leave the store and every time I saw him sneaking by me I would mention to him that he could keep walking around and I would tell him when we were leaving.  Of course I was smiling even though I wanted to holler at him to get his butt back over here where I asked him to be!  I did not want an incident, little did I know . .  .

When it was time to go, we headed toward the checkout.  He came by soon and I told him we were leaving.  He jumped, hollered NO, and ran away.  I explained to the checkout girl that he was special needs (even though he is bigger than me and look completely typical)  and I didn't want to cause a scene.  I told her I was going to go sit on the bench near the door and wait.  She was very kind and asked if I wanted her to page him, I knew it wouldn't do any good.   I wanted to chase him down with every fiber of my being, but I knew it would be ugly, and quite frankly since I broke my leg last year I have a hard time walking, let alone running.  Also, I am trying to have GRACE this year and I thought that waiting patiently and being non-confrontational would result in a better ending for all of us.

After sitting there about a half hour, I knew we had not made any progress.  I knew it was time to see if I could get him to comply.  I walked toward the back of the store and asked McCartney to stay up front.  I saw him and he ran back to the bathroom next to the service desk.  I was thrilled.  I knew he was trapped and I knew if I just waited him out, I could snatch him when he came back out.  I explained to the service desk that he was special needs and that I would likely be creating a scene when he came out.  The young man and woman there seemed to understand and gave me those sympathetic eyes.  There were 12 or so people in line to return merchandise too. I was irritated and embarrassed by the point and my voice was bit quivery but I was holding it together.   The worst part is that McCartney had no idea I was standing there and I was worried because she was still up front.

I waited.  And waited.  After about 10 minutes I figured he knew I was out there and he was not going to come out.  I decided to go into the men's restroom and talk to him.  Nice.  He was huddled into the corner of the handicapped stall and refused to talk to me at all.  I knew we were at a standstill.  The stall lock was not one that I could unlock from outside and I was not able to crawl under (ew!).  I walked back out defeated with people staring.

The young man at the service desk asked if he could try.  I told him I didn't think it would make a difference and I was worried it would irritate the customers standing in line to be helped.  HE said he wanted to try.  After about 5 minutes he opened the door and Dustin came walking out.  I was thrilled! I told him how thankful I was and that I appreciated his kindness.  I began to sob and he siad, "Can I hug you?"  It was very kind and very much appreciated.  I was mortified and he made me feel very understood.  This young man was only about 25 years old.  I was so very thankful. 

I held Dustin's wrost and made the trek back up the front of the store with him hollering all the way.  It was fabulous I tell ya! (not)  By this point McCartney had found me and was just as embarrassed as I was.  We left the store with him yelling and me sobbing. 

I put him in the car and took him home.  I picked up Harrison and we went to the mall.  I really did not want to go but McCartney was looking forward to spending her gift cards from Christmas.  We stopped at the pretzel place and sat down to eat.  A little girl walked past us with her parents.  She was mentally handicapped and had an obvious outward disability.  She was carrying on and her parents were simply holding her arm and walking through the mall.  Harrison looked at me and said, "Mom, see that girl over there? I kind of wish Dustin looked like her.  Then people would know why he acts like he does.  They wouldn't think it was your fault." 

Yes, dear boy.  Me too.  Sigh.

Word for this year . . .

I have been reading lots of blog posts about people choosing the "Word for the year".  At first I wanted to choose one and then I hurt my brain trying to come up with one.  I wanted it to be special, meaningful and forcing it wasn't working.  It wasn't magical.  It was work and I didn't want to do it that way.  I decided if I was going to choose a word it had to choose me.

It did today.

grace 

I am not speaking of grace in the sense of being graceful.  I am by no means graceful, I mean, I broke my leg in three places on a blow up carnival game for goodness sakes!  I could definitely use some grace in that department, but that is not what is talking to me at the moment. 

Grace has been defined as "the love and mercy given to us by God because God desires us to have it, not because of anything we have done to earn it, the benevolence shown by God toward the human race . It is  a spontaneous gift from God to man - generous, free and totally unexpected and undeserved that takes the form of divine favor, love and clemency.

Boy, I am who I am because of the grace the creator has given to me.  I need to make certain that I am showing grace daily to those around me, those living in my home, those in my circle of friends and probably most importantly to myself.  I will focus this year on pouring that grace into the lives of those around me and myself.

What will that look like?  I am certain that will evolve as I do.  I am thinking right now, that will take on the face of patience.  I will learn to be still and wait.  I think it will also start with giving others the benefit of the doubt.  That is what grace looks like right now, the future . . . it will be a journey that I am happy to take.  


Knowledge is but folly unless it is guided by grace.  - George Herbert



Faith is a living, daring confidence in God's grace, so sure and certain that a man could stake his life on it a thousand times.       -Martin Luther
 

But what we can do, as flawed as we are, is still see God in other people, and do our best to help them find their own grace. That's what I strive to do, that's what I pray to do every day.      - Barack Obama
 

I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.      - Anne Lamott


And you know, when you've experienced grace and you feel like you've been forgiven, you're a lot more forgiving of other people. You're a lot more gracious to others.     - Rick Warren
 

Grace in women has more effect than beauty.     -William Hazlitt

Grace has been defined as the outward expression of the inward harmony of the soul.    - William Hazlitt

2 Corinthians 12:8-9 Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

Hebrews 4:16 Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

So here's to the year of grace. . . 

Silent Night is a pipe dream . . .

I didn't quite feel well when I left work on Friday evening.  By the time I got home I was shivering and found I was running a temperature of 103.  I have been sick since.  It has been a miserable Christmas weekend.  Our family Christmas was supposed to happen on Saturday and my siblings and steps siblings thankfully rescheduled for next weekend for me.  We cancelled Christmas Eve at our house that we usually spend with my mom, stepdad and brother.  We even cancelled the Christmas Day dinner that we planned on having at my mom's with just my family.  It has not been a banner year for Christmas around here.

Yesterday I thought I was on the upswing and hadn't fevered since early morning.  I woke up this morning and was fevering and it seems the plague is back with a vengeance.   I had promised the kids we would go see The Hobbit in 3D and I was going to make good on my promise even if I exposed everyone in that theater to my sickness.  Thankfully there was only 4 other people in the theater and I spread out on 3 seats and laid down. The worst part is that the Hubs is sick too and is about 12 hours behind me so he knows everything that is coming!

The 2 littles have been decent about helping out.  The most frustrating part is of course dealing with Dustin.  His impulse control is not easy to deal with on a good day, but being sick makes it doubly bad!   Add in the anticipation of the holiday, and he is absolutely bonky!  He has no compassion for anything someone else is dealing with.  He only thinks about himself and how what you are doing/feeling is affecting him and it is so very tiresome.  His brain is simply not wired to care about anyone other than himself.  I find it extremely hard to deal with.  He also fully aware that we are functioning at a small fraction of our ability and takes full advantage of that by trying to sneak around and get into anything and everything he knows he is not supposed to.   There is no resting in my household. The constant vigilance is tiring when you are well, you can imagine what it is like when you are sick.  Fetal Alcohol Syndrome sucks!

Solutions? . . .

Everyone and their brother is spouting off about what could've been the issue that  caused Adam Lanza to kill those at Sandy Hook Elementary and who or what is to blame.  I have consciously stayed away from speculation in the news media and have not read a bunch of article about the incident.  Usually I am all over this kind of stuff and I can't seem to get enough information, but this one, this one is different for me. 

Why?  My child has the ability to be the face of this tragedy.  The trauma he experienced early in his life and the attachment issues that have sprung from abuse, neglect, and being shuffled through 10 different placements have broken him in a way that is beyond understanding.  I walk with him daily through his issues, and I cannot even understand what it is like to walk in his shoes.  Now, I must also mention that my son is not only dealing with behaviors that are labeled as Reactive Attachment Disorder but a slew of other mental health issues and brain damage that occurred from maternal alcohol abuse during pregnancy (FAS or Fetal Alcohol Syndrome).  My child has the deck stacked against him.  My child has a "grab bag full of crazy".  I don't say that disrespectfully, I say that to make people understand that we never quite know which disorder is making it's way to the surface to control his thinking at any given time.  He is a whirlwind of trauma and it pains me to think abouot the utrmoil he lives with daily in his mind.  It is a hidden disability, the appears to be a kind and pleasant 17 year old in public.  He appears to be able to function at  a "typical" cognitive level, he cannot. There is not a connection of cause and effect with him.  He doesn't understand that their are consequences of his actions. He acts mostly out of impulse without regard of the fallout.   Without medication, mental health services and constant supervision he is not only a danger to himself but to others. 

As I sit here and make him out to seemingly be a "monster" he is NOT.  His mental health issues don't define him. When he is able to control himself and his impulses, he is a wonderfully pleasant, helpful and loving child.  He is kind and compassionate at times.  He engages in conversations and wants to be a part of the group.  He is not a loner who prefers to stay on the outskirts, he enjoys being the center of attention.  He is a joy.  He loves his family. 

I don't believe this answer is solely gun control.  I am all for owning weapons if you choose, however, I don't believe assault weapons or semi-automatic weapons are necessary for anyone who is not on a battlefield.   I also think each gun owner needs to be held responsible is their weapon is used to commit a crime by someone who had access to it.  Proper gun ownership is key. 

I don't believe that metal detectors or armed guards at schools are the answer either.  This is not about schools only, it is about malls and movie theatres and any where else a large amount of people gather.  I went to Jamaica in the 90s and everywhere I went there were armed guards outside of the building.  Want to go to Burger King? There is a man holding the door with a automatic rifle.  I don't think we need that kind of climate in our country. Besides, who is to say that man is mentally healthy himself and won't go bananas so day?

So what is the solution? My first thought is BETTER and more AVAILABLE mental health services. People that are this kind of crazy do not just "breakdown" one day and shoot up and elementary school.   There are indicator, there are signs. There is not enough services and not nearly enough affordable care for people who are struggling with mental illness. Too many families cannot get their loved ones help or the stigma is just too great. We need to have frank and honest discussions about the mentally ill  in our communities.  We need to eliminate the barriers to people seeking help.  We need compassion and kindness.  We need understanding and patience.  I would suggest that someone knew that this shooter was not stable from a young age.  Adults may refuse care, adults may refuse medication, but if we start early and are offering coping mechanisms and appropriate therapy, perhaps the lifelong healing process is in forward motion before it hits a breaking point.  Will it be enough is every case? Absolutely not, but there is still room for improvement.   

I mourn for these families. I mourn for the young man who thought this was the answer.  It may not be popular to say that I am sorry for the man who committed these crimes, but I am.  Somehow, "we" as a community failed him.  We failed the children.  It is time to be honest about what we can do to prevent this from happening to anyone else. 

The day Craigslist nearly killed me . . .

OK, not really, but it could've happened!

A few years back I began looking for a desk for my daughter on Craigslist.  I found a cute one with a hutch that was really inexpensive in a town about 45 minutes north of me. I spoke to a man and he said that he and his wife would be there all night. He also told me that there was matching dresser I could have for a mere $10 more. I was thrilled!  I set out in my mother's van with my special needs son. 

We arrived and I left the car running because it was very cold outside.  My son was instructed to stay in the van.  I grabbed the money out of my purse and stuck it in my back pocket.  When I got into the house, which was on a very poorly lit street, I realized the man was alone.  He said his wife had left for the night.  Not one to give up a bargain, I walked in and checked out the desk ad hutch that was in the dining room.  He asked if I wanted to look at the dresser and I said I did.  He then said it was in the basement.

I got about halfway down the basment steps before I realized it was a very bad idea.  The man was behind me on the steps and as soon as I decided I should be creeped out he revved the drill that was in his hands (to take apart the hutch) and laughed when I jumped.  He apologized and I decided whether I should run or keep going.  Once again, the thought of  a matching set for $40 made me press on.  The dresser was in another room of the unfinished basement and he instructed me to open the door and go inside.  I refused, thinking he would push me in there and lock me away forever.  He went in first and I positioned myself between him and the stairs so I could run if I got weirded out.  I told him I would take the dresser and he helped me get it up the stairs.

He went up the stairs first.  We got about half way up with this incredibly heavy real wood dresser and he jokingly says, "Hope I don't drop this on you and trap you in the basement" and I nearly screamed in terror.  Just then, I hear heavy footsteps upstairs in the house.  He had said he was alone, I was certain that it was his partner in crime coming to kill me.  I freaked out and began to sweat thinking I was going to die in this small town basement for a bargain!  Then I thought of my son in the car, he had my purse and my cell phone.  He would have no idea what to do if I didn't come out of the house.  I began kicking myself for not bringing my cell phone into the house.  Just as the foot stomping got closer, my son appears at the top of the steps.  I was relieved it was his foot steps, but was mortified seeing him grabbing the back of his pants. 

Here was my son, jumping up and down in a stranger's house saying "Mom, I am gonna poop my pants!"  Thankfully the Craigslist killer seller was kind and apparently did not want poop on his floor and allowed him to use his bathroom.

I did not die that day . . . except from embarrassment.

Pffft. . .

So much for blogging daily in the month of November.  I really sucked at that one.  Oh well.  Life got in the way.  This is the worst time of year for my son, which is referred to as a traumaversary.  Things are just starting to even out and life is somewhat back to normal on that front. 

My husband's momma died very suddenly.  She went from preparing Thanksgiving dinner and shopping to sick 2 days later and ending up in the ER.  She was immediately diagnosed with Leukemia and ended up in the ICU within a couple days.  She started a dose of chemo, he went down to Kentucky and she died the following morning.  It was quick and unexpected.  We are all still reeling emotionally from that. My littles are struggling emotionally, but this was the first death time that they were old enough and close enough to the person who died for it to make a mark on them.  It has been overwhelming navigating their grief.  Being that she lived out of town, they weren't super close to her, but she is their grandmother!  And seeing daddy (the husband) stressing out and sad has made them very fragile. 

Better days . . .

Over the last year or so I have really made a turn around in how I see myself and how I react to the world.  Some of the things I struggle with have gotten markedly better and some things are still quite there, I just deal with them better.  As I step back and look at what I have done differently, I can point to a few things that have directly helped and I wanted to outline them here for me as well as whoever might benefit from how I currently see the world . . .

1.  I communicate far better with my husband than I used to.  I try my best not just to snap at him, but explain why I am frustrated.  He has made a point of listening instead of getting defensive.  I think explaining how my mind works and how I perceive things has helped him get a better understanding of who I am and why I get so bent out of shape about certain things.  I take time to explain when things bother me and why.  He has been trying really hard not to take things personally.

2.  Reiki has helped me take control of not only how I relate with people but also my circumstances.  IT has allowed me to rest in the "now" and stop and take a breath.  It lets me "sit" with where I am and revel in the fact that I am alive, breathing and can experience the energy and world around me.  It helps me connect with God on a level that I can "feel".  I feel closer to God than I have in a long while and feel a connection with Him in a different way than I ever had. . . that alone is life changing.

3.  I have tried to surround myself with positivity.  I have affirmations on my wall at work directly above my desk.  I purposely put them on sticky notes so I could change them out and move things around.  I am trying to focus not just on "Woe is me" sayings, but positive things that can affect my mood and my outlook.  It is easy to gravitate toward the "ugly" and wallow in pity, but it is hard to pull yourself out of that and look at the positive side of things.  Having stuff in my face works for me.  Focus on the positives even when you can't see them. For me, when I cannot think of anything positive, I think about a roof over my head, my children, food in my belly, and the love of friends.

4. Tapping.  I use tapping mostly when I feel like blowing up and losing my cool.   Sometimes I find myself tapping even before I am conscious of it.  I also find that I tap in the car alot.  For me it is not about the mantra it is a self soothing technique and it works for me.  Tapping has so many benefits that I truly think it is miraculous.  I am pleased it is in my arsenal!

5.  Unplugged.  I have tried to unplug from 24 hour news media.  The divisiveness  made me crazy.  I try very hard to get my news and move on.  I cannot wallow in that type of negativity that news channels bring.  The same thing with my phone.  My phone that was always attached to my hand gets plugged up in the foyer when I get home.  I am still accessible for friends and family, but I am not constantly receiving news alerts, text alerts and being fed garbage from media.   My home number is only given out to a few friends and family and I know when it rings that it is someone I want to talk to.  I feel so much more relaxed than I use to with that phone stuck to my body!

6.  My Best Friend.  She is amazing.  Always there for me even through her own crap, she is willing to listen and laugh with me.  I couldn't have made it through the last year of family issues, constant pain from my leg accident and "just life" without her.  She is a part of who I am today even though she has only been in my life a short time.  She is the sister I never had and sometimes I think we were separated at birth.  She amazes me with her strength and her resiliency.  She makes me a better person. 

Just for today . . .

Mostly finished project . . .

The stairs have been finished as much as they are going to be for now.  If they hold up, I will likely make a few changes and take time to caulk all the joints in the wood and repaint the edges so things look clean and finished.  For now, they are good enough!

I ended up purchasing  16 x 24 carpet tiles from the Dollar Store (!!!) and a package of 97 cent nails with larger heads.  I did have to purchase 2 different tiles due to availability, but that is my favorite part.  I simply cut the tiles in half and tacked them on the treads with the nails.  $11 and I am so pleased with how they look!

The kids picked the words so they are all a bit different.  If I had picked them out they would all be the same family (like they would all be verbs) but it was a joint project and they are thrilled with their choices.

It is nearly impossible to photograph the steps, so these photos will have to do :)

See ya . . .

Last night was the first time in a while that Dustin has chosen to run out the front door.  He was mad at me because we were cleaning up the house and I asked McCartney to hold the trash bag.  Yep, mad for not getting to hold the trash bag. He shouted, "That's it! I'm out of here." and walked to the front door.  I chose not to chase him.  I knew it was quite dark and cold and I knew that he wouldn't stay out there too long.  He stopped at the door and turned around and said, "Mom, did you hear me? I'm outta here and I'm not coming back!"  I simply kept working on my project, called his bluff and said, "Bye dear."  He called my bluff and took off out the door.

The littles were cleaning and they always freak out when Dustin runs.  I told them to be calm and try to ignore it.  About 4 minutes later we heard him tromping onto the porch.  I knew he was making noises so I would hear him and come chase him.  I wasn't going out there!  It is cold! I quietly crept to the door but he heard me coming and ran out to the sidewalk.  He was standing there waiting for me to come out while I snuck a peek out the peep hole.  He was getting rustrated that I wouldn't come out and then he walked away.  We did this "dance" for about 25 minutes.  Then the doorbell rang. 

I answered the door and it was Dustin.  I said, "Well hi!  Can I help you?" He said he was cold and asked if he oculd come inside.  I said, "This is your house so you are welcome to come in."  We carried on like nothing ever happened.  He was not amused.

I was, however, quite amused.

Will it work next time?  Who knows.  But it was quite funny to see the look on his face when he realized I was not going to chase him.  Later he asked me if I would miss him if he left, and of course I said I would.  He kept trying to get me to talk about him leaving and I was very nonchalant about it.  Perhaps if he sees that it doesn't poke my buttons it will stop this behavior . . . at least until spring. 

Work in progress . . .

My home is 120+ years old.  Most of it is original.  It was a rental for many years and even a fraternity house at one point.  It had been very well abused loved before we bought it.

I have 3 kids, 2 dogs and 3 cats.  We have definitely made our mark.  I replaced the carpet on the stairs a few years back myself.  It was a light carpet remnant and it has well past it's prime.  I decided to rip it out yesterday and paint the steps.  I had originally planned on just painting them with the dark brown floor/porch paint that I used upstairs on our unfinished wood floors that I blogged about here. And then I decided we needed to FUNKIFY them!

I have a LARGE stash of mistint paint and various leftovers from projects.  I knew I had some pretty bright colors from the Glidden paint promotions a couple years back so I decided to go for it.  I did paint the treads with the porch paint and then I just painted the risers random colors. 

On the way to school today I asked the kids for some words for the steps.  They came up with some words and I printed them out on legal size paper in various fonts.  A bit of sidewalk chalk on the back of the paper allowed me to easily transfer the type to the steps by simply tracing over them with a pencil.  I simply took a small artist brush and filled in the words.

It is still a work in progress, but it is turning out to be a fun addition to our eclectic home.  The stairs are OLD and ratty, but I am hoping that the colors and words will distract from their less than perfect finish.  I think I may buy a package of carpet squares from Lowes, cut them in half and tack them to the stair treads with large head nails.  We shall see what strikes my fancy! :)

So much for that . . .

So much for blogging every day for November.  I blew it already, but this weekend was a rough one.  Dustin has been quite difficult and as I was opining to my mother on the phone yesterday (she is on vacation) she mentioned that it is "that time of year".  Duh!  Autumn is always particularly rough for him as he has had numerous traumaversaries in the fall. 

We had a visit to the psych on Thursday and what could I say other than he is doing as well as I can hope.  I don't have much hope that medication can control much of the behaviors we are seeing now.  The medication has done it's best to control his impulsivity and the mood disorder the best that we  could ask for.  The problem we are seeing now is simply being a self centered 5 year old in the body of a 17 year old.  The constant me, me, me mentality is sucking the life right out of us.  He worries about nothing but his needs, his desires and his happiness.  He cares virtually nothing for anyone around him of the needs of anyone else.  

It is tiring and frustrating.  I have to remind myself constantly that he ddid not ask for this life and it is my job to make it as pleasant as possible.  I fail at that daily, but I lay my head on that pillow nightly vowing that I will try again tomorrow.  

I suppose that is all I can do.

Kids say . . .

Tonight we were in the car heading home.  I mentioned that McCartney had an appointment with her doctor.

H:  Isn't Dr. _____ a physicist?
Me: No, he is a Psychiatrist.
H: Don't Psychiatrists see psychos? No offense McCartney.
Me:  BWAHAHAHA
M: Not funny.

After . . .

Congrats Mr. President on a second term.  My family had to pleasure of meeting then Senator Obama during the primary in 2004.  You can read the story here. 

The family while we were waiting. We had my mom praying for the kids behavior to be fantastic. Apparently the prayers for McCartney hadn't yet reached heaven. Check out the grumpiness.

There's a smile! It's about time. She did however get everything she wanted because we really didn't want a blow up. I did however have to threaten her with the secret service taking her away a few times.

Robert and the man of the hour. This was taken just as Harrison ran up to him and hugged his knees.

Harrison is thrilled. Can you tell? Directly behind me are about 2 dozen photographers snapping away. Boy, that man can sure smile.

You can tell he is the father of two girls. He was telling her that she had a beautiful dress on and that he liked her painted toenails. She was smitten.

Pressure . . .

Last night in the car my daughter got a bit teary eyed and said, "Mommy, I am sad I need to tell you something."  I asked what, expecting that she got in trouble for talking in school (wonder where she gets her penchant for "too many words" ?) And she replied with, "I am sorry, but I want Mitt to win."

I asked her why and she said, "My friends want him to win and they said I am bad if I like Obama." 

Deep sigh.

I carefully chose my words because she is a sensitive child.  I told her that I don't dislike Governor Romney.  I am certain there are good things about him as a man and as a candidate.  As a  voter, I get to choose who I think will do a better job moving our country into the direction that I feel it needs to move.  I was careful to point out that others get to make that same choice and that I respect their right to choose for themselves.  I would prefer that Obama was in office another 4 years, if that doesn't happen our world will not fall apart (we survived Bush!)

Then I began talking about peer pressure.  I told her that she needs to make decisions for herself not because others want her to choose a particular thing.  I explained that votes can be secret.  I explained that I have never known who my mother voted for.  She keeps her vote private.  She believes that it is no one's business who she casts her vote for.   I respect that.

I also explained that this is why kids do not vote.  Kids are easily swayed by their peers and the hope is that once someone becomes an adult they may have more of an ability to think for themselves and not worry about that peer pressure.

All being said and done it hurt my heart.  It hurt that she felt WRONG for wanting to like Obama.  And it hurt my heart that she would be afraid to tell me that she might vote for a candidate other than the one I choose.  When my children are grown, I will welcome their vote regardless of the political leaning.  

Reiki Revisited . . .

Completing the education portion of this journey on Saturday was monumental for me.  Truth be told, I really didn't want to do it.  I wanted to sit back and rest assured that I had learned everything I needed to learn in Reiki 1 and 2 and have a relaxing and uneventful Saturday.  Even after I paid for the class in full, I was considering going back and asking for a refund.  I was not "feeling it".  Even Saturday, I woke up late and wanted to just blow it off.  I am so very glad I did not.   I am certain that I was put in that place for a reason and I feel as though I grew exponentially in my understanding of Reiki and in my place in this journey.
 

We focused more on intuition in this class and it really struck a cord with me.  The possibility of providing just what the client needs at the appropriate time and place, even if they don't know what it is, is a heady proposition.  It really secured in me that I am merely a vessel for the energy to flow through.  It reminded me that there is a far greater force at work through me and I am simply the conduit who is willing and open to being used.  That concept was what drives me to use this ability for good.  The fact that I don't have to know what is needed, I just simply have to be present and willing.  While I initiate the contact by welcoming God to use me, I really just have to sit back and allow Him to provide and perform.

The other piece of that puzzle for me is the LOVE.  The acceptance of what it is to be obedient to a higher power and be that part of the puzzle is overwhelmingly peaceful.  I am called to love.  I am called to accept.  I am called to provide kindness and positivity in all areas of my life.  Opening that part of me has been a long journey over the past few years.  It has been one that has taught me to let go of my assumptions, my preconceived notions and my judgements.  It has given me the understanding that I have not walked in the shoes of others.  I have no idea where their journeys have taken them and how they have reached the point where they are today.  I cannot judge their path or their conclusions.  I can simply accept and love that they are where they are at this given moment.  It is my job to love.  I may not agree, but that does not stop the love.  I can see that the journey I have been a part of for these past few years, has been leading up to my Reiki training.  The time is now to begin putting into action what has been resonating within my soul during this time.

Reiki has given me the instrument in allowing that love to feel real to others.  As I call on the God of the universe to work through me and for the greater good of the person in front of me, I am showing that love in corporal form.  I am the avenue for energy filled with love and acceptance.  The force of that love is healing and benefiting another human being.  That, my friends, is powerful and something I am humbled to be a part of.  I am blessed to be given the ability to show that love in such a tangible way.

Election . . .

Tomorrows election.  I am a firm believer that everyone who can vote, should.  I believe that too many people fought for your right to vote and not doing so is just plain wrong.  I have seen many posts of my facebook feed about people wishing this election was not only over, but that they are tired of seeing others express their opinions on social media.  I disagree.  While I may not always agree with their opinions, I am happy to see others questioning and espousing their beliefs.  Usually, that means that they are not blindly following a party like sheep, but they are making their own decisions.

I am a firm believer that if we take the time for have a civil discussion about out political beliefs that we can find something to agree on.  That, of course, requires CIVIL discourse, not name calling, and diving in depth about our beliefs not just spouting talking points and single issue topics.  We will not always come to the same conclusion, but it is helpful to see that while we are not voting for the same candidate we can hold some of the same beliefs important.  It helps me to see that although we differ, we have come to that decision even though we can agree on a fraction of the points that lead us in two different directions.  For me, that makes it much more personal and allows me to honor the other person if not their choices.

I have yet to un-friend someone due to their political rants on social media. I do however have to scroll quickly past some who are so closed minded who cannot even fathom that  there is a different opinion other than theirs that could be remotely valuable.  Those who make me particularly upset are the ones that post things such as "As Christians, there should be no question . . ."  and "We Christians must stand up for . . . " .  Not only does that alienate me as a believer who thinks differently, but does nothing to reach others who may be questioning or searching for faith.  As a Christian, I come to my opinions and beliefs on politics with much soul searching and prayer.  I try my best to separate my beliefs and my political convictions as much as possible and look at what is best for the country as a whole.  I am not bound to vote as you think and as you prefer.  That does not make me wrong or even inherently evil.  I choose love.  I choose tolerance.  I choose peace. Just because a particular candidate does not agree with what my God intends, does not mean I cannot vote for them.  I can still practice my religion and serve my God regardless of their views.  That is what America is founded on and I thank God for that.  It doesn't mean that I have to vote for "biblical values" in order to uphold biblical values and live by them.  No one is taking that ability away from me.

It is my job as a citizen of the Untied States and of Earth to be the best person I can be.  It is my job to love others, help others and be a good example for my children.  I fail daily.  If I held myself up to the same scrutiny that some hold our leaders up to, I would fail miserably.  I try to have faith that God has a hand in my life and in my decisions as he does yours.  We each come for different places.  I am called to do the best for me and my family and honor God.  I believe I am doing that.  I don't need your accolades to feel as though I am doing the right thing.   That is between me and my God just as it is for you.  So, please don't tell me how to vote and I won't assume to know why you make your choices either.