An Old Friend . . .

I visited classmates.com yesterday and got frustrated because you have to pay to get any information. One girl I wanted to find wasn't listed. I began trying to search for her online and found an obituary from her granddad. From this I found out her last name. I did find her brother and sister-in-law's email and I got one from her today! I am so thrilled!

We were pretty darn close in middle school and high school. I found picture of us at graduation. Man, I can't believe I was ever that young. I can't wait to talk to her about the last 20 years. . .

Myrtle Young . . .

Years ago when I used to take the daycare kids to Seyfert's Potato Chip factory we would get a tour from Myrtle Young. Her job was to sit at the end of the production line at Seyfert's and pick out the chips that had too much starch and had burn marks. She found chips that looked like other things and collected them. Later they installed infrared cameras that sucked out the bad chips, and Myrtle ended up working elsewhere in the factory.

My favorite thing was getting to see the semi-trucks that delivered the potatoes being lifted into the air so that the potatos would dump out. Often, you could drive by the factory early in the morning and see the front end of a semi sticking way into the air above the factory. On the tour, Myrtle used to tell the story about a driver who was waiting to get his truck dumped and fell asleep in the cab. They guys lifted the truck with him inside, thinking they would be funny and got in big trouble. The Seyfert's factory has since been leveled.

This morning I drove by the Mike Sells Potato Chip plant and saw a truck in the air! I was thrilled. It brought back so many memories. I also realized that they no longer lift the cab with the truck. I noticed it was just the trailer in the air.

Here is the infamous clip of Myrtle on Carson . . .

Things you find out on Saturday . . .

Today I found out a few things. . .

1. I found out that Dustin CAN get a good haircut at Great Clips by a woman named Svetlana. She jerked his poor head around like a ragdoll, but man, he looks adorable.

2. I found out a car and an oven can catch on fire in one week. Tonight I put 2 frozen pizzas in the oven and went into the laundry room to fold clothes. Dustin comes into the kitchen and hollers, "The oven is on fire!" Nice. I had a piece of foil in the bottom of the oven which apparently collected some grease and caught fire. The inside of the oven was engulfed in flames.

Robert came in and rescued me, without even having to use the fire extinguisher. I walked into the computer room to turn on the ceiling fan to rid the area of smoke and Dustin had both kids on the floor rolling around. I asked what they were doing and Harrison says, "Dustin told us to stop, drop and roll." So I say, "No honey, that's for when you are on fire."

The pizzas survived the fire and came out quite good.

3. I found out that if you have 2 pets rats and one dies, the other dear, sweet pet will EAT it's former friend. Eeeeeeww! I may find it hard to cuddle her after I found out that she had reduced her friend to a simple carcass.

4. I found out that while I can clean up puke, poop and all matter of bodily fluids as a mother and child-care worker for years, I cannot bring my self to look at OR clean up rat carcass.

Harrison's Art . . .

He calls this one Peace Ducks.

Looking up . . .

Thank you Lord! My car is covered under warranty. Oh Joy!

Turns out my starter remained engaged and caught fire. They are ordering the part and it will be done in a couple days. My fabulous step-father is allowing me to use one of our old crappy church-vans in the mean time!

God is good.

Monday mish-mash . . . and pyschotropic drugs . . .

This weekend sucked. Dustin was horribly dysregulated. I say that, but then immediately I flash back to what that meant in the past. I didn't have to restrain him and he did have moments where he could function with the other kids. I suppose it wasn't that bad, but I suppose it's all relative anyway huh?

Our computer died. We purchased a new desktop in December. Robert and I were watching something on DVR and he walked back over to the computer and it was asking for a boot disk. He spoke to Support and of-course they were NO HELP AT ALL. I called Best Buy and he took it to the nerd-herd (man I miss "Chuck") and they said the hard drive was totally "gone". Thankfully it qualified for exchange since it was bought during the Christmas Season and returns and exchanges are lengthened to January 31st. He came home with a brand-spankin' new computer that is faster, has more memory and a $25 credit. Gotta like that.

Perusing some blogs over the weekend, I found some people critical of giving children psychotropic drugs for children "ailments" as they call them. You know what I have to say about that? Pitooey! I will acquiesce that in the past, physicians were far too quick to label a child and medicated them, and may still be. However, in my personal experience that is not the case. I think it is the family's right to medicate their child, but also their RESPONSIBILITY to educate themselves about the medication, the risks, to side effects and the half-life of these medications.

Whenever Dustin is placed on a new medication I ask these questions:

1. What is it used for?
2. What positive results should I be looking for?
3. What negative results should I be looking for?
4. How long before I should see a change? When should I call you if I don't see a change?
5. How long does it take for the medication to get out of his system?

The last 2 I find particularly important since I need to know if a medication should begin working right away, or if it will take 3 weeks before I see the wanted results. That way, I can see if this medication will be effective or a dud. For instance, medications like Adderall are "in and out" in one day, where Zoloft may take 3-4 weeks before you see if it is effective. I also like the last question, so that I know if the medication has a half-life in his body. That one is particularly important for me since he typically has EPS reactions to medications. I need to know how long after he stops taking it will it still be affecting him.

I have no problems with medicating Dustin. He would be a danger to himself or others in our family if he was not medicated. You may say, "Well, Sheri, that's an easy decision." But, I also do not have issues medicating a child who is typical in most areas but has a problem focusing. My 5 year old, Harrison, is brilliant. This child was talking in full sentences at one year old, and reading words at three. He was reading for comprehension and enjoyment by four. Last night I found him in my bed, propped up on a pillow reading a comic book before bed. He is a kindergartner. He has really been struggling with keeping his body still at school. He doesn't look at you when you are talking, yet he can tell you everything you said. He is full of energy and is ALWAYS moving. I chalked most of it up to immaturity, because he is young for his grade and he has always been a little extra emotional. The last time he was at the doctor for an illness he was bouncing of the walls. The doctor said, "Boy, is he always like this? When you're ready to talk about that, let me know." We became ready after the holidays. School began being an issue and he was really struggling with self-esteem since he is always being reprimanded at school. He began to dislike school, and saying things like, "I hate this family." He even talked about being a bad kid. I noticed his relationships at daycare were changing and children were choosing not to play with him. He wasn't mean, he was just always moving!

He has been on medication for 3 weeks. He is happy and much calmer. He has been having success at school. Last week he came home and said, "Mommy, I kept my body in control." He was so happy. If medication can do that for my boy, I am all for it.

Parenting hard kids is hard . . . part 2 . . .

I wrote last summer about how parenting kids with disabilities is difficult on the entire family. My kids are better for it in some ways, and probably worse off in some ways due to the parenting it takes to make Dustin a part of our family. The huge amount of "gumption" it takes to be "on" at times regarding Dustin and his behaviors, his triggers, his rages, his possible reactions is tiresome. It is not possible to simply come home and "check out" for the evening, as some parents can, leaving perfectly "normal" children to fend for themselves. "Mommy is tired, can you just go play please?" doesn't work EVER! Let me give you a snapshot of my night . . .

Last night, Robert had an appointment to film a piece for the local public television about PEACE. Meaning, I had all three kids to myself. It is not my forte. This may sound horrible to most moms, especially ones who deal with far more children than I, but Dustin really knows how to push my buttons. He rarely acts the way he does for me with Robert. Claudia talks alot about how hard it is for her not to play the "push-pull" game when her girls push her buttons. I can so relate even though I am getting better.

Last night Dustin had a major melt-down turned rage about dinner. We used to struggle with major food issues. He would hoard, binge, and even refuse food regularly. Most of that has subsided, and we only deal with it occasionally. Last night was that occasion. Of course. He refused to eat dinner. I never make an issue out of food. If you don't want to eat what we eat, fine, the rule is you have a peanut butter sandwich. of course, he didn't want that either. Usually this is a perfectly acceptable option for him. And by the way, he LOVES the meal we had last night. He was simply being difficult.

He asked if he could go get some air. I told him he could, but he had to stay on the porch. This was the compromise we came to after he ran away the last night. If he needs "air" he can ask, but he has to stay on the porch. he went out, milled around and came back in about 4 minutes later. I said, "Nice job calming down." and he stomped his foot and went back out slamming the door behind him. This continued about 8 or 10 more times. I was proud of my lack of attack and handling the situation calmly and ignoring him. Finally I had had enough of the door opening and closing and the "Hhhrmph" theatrics, and told him he was to stay in the house. Then the running through the house ensued and the stomping, slamming and hollering. Hollering things like, "You want me to starrrrrrrrrve!!!!!" "You never feed meeeeee!" "I'm calling the poooooliiiice!". Nice.

The dog was stepped on, a bowl was broken, the kids were shell-shocked, stuff was spilled, towels were thrown. I was calm. I waited until he was done and asked him if he was ready for dinner. He said "yes." I shut the kitchen door, made him a small plate and started to clean up the kitchen. He grumped, he breathed heavily, he picked. He walked over and opened the door. I said, "Dustin the dog needs to stay out of the kitchen." He ran to the bathroom and barricaded himself in. I went over and removed him. He said, "I'm hungry!" and went over to his plate. The dog had indeed come through the kitchen door he opened and ate his food. The LAST of the food. Nice. Can you say. . . natural consequences?

Another rage ensued but now directed at the dog. Finally as soon as it began, he calmed, looked at me and said, "Can I play gameboy?" Oh Lord, thank you! About an hour later he ate 2 peanut butter sandwiches and said, "Mom! Those were the best sandwiches ever!" Oh brother!

Nostalgia . . .

Okay that last post got to me. It made me start thinking about my babies . . . check out these wee-little ones from long ago . . .

Posting frenzy . . .

I thought I would share a picture with you from 2004. Robert and I went to see John Edwards speak in Lima, Ohio in October. We took McCartney while Harrison and Dustin stayed with Nannie.

Isn't she the cutest little decmocrat ever?

And check out that stylish sling. . . Thanks Cindy! Look how snuggly and happy she is! If you know anyone having a baby . . . you MUST have them buy a sling. And Cindy's are the best!

Transitions . . .

The day mother's of special needs kids dread. . . back to school after a break. A change in routine for most kids can be difficult. Going back to a normal sleep schedule, a normal play schedule and just making sure you get to the bus stop on time can be difficult on the first day back to school after Christmas Break. For kids that have special needs, a transition back to a "normal" routine can be quite traumatic. Kari dreaded the day, Cindy had issues getting her kid's heads off the pillows, Jo's son had issues in the after-school program, and even Marla and Maizie struggled with returning to their homeschooling routine. Yes, even I stressed out as my kid's returned to their normal grind.

It is on days like this when I have to remind myself that I cannot control my kid's behavior. I have to give them the foundation of a happy morning, a full belly and a loving hug as they run out the door, but ultimately it is their responsibility to act appropriately. But what about the kids whose brains have been affected by pre-natal alcohol exposure, or who have autism spectrum disorder, or who are just plain on their own schedule. They usually need someone, an external brain, to control their behaviors. That is not something one commonly finds in a "general education" classroom, or even a special education placement. My family is lucky enough to have Dustin with a 1:1 aide that is basically his external brain while at school, but that is not always the case. And even that can fall short when it comes to a child pushed beyond his or her limit for the day or their ability handle their impulses.

I have to ask myself what kind of pressure are we putting on our children to perform at a particular level that stresses them out so much. When I orientate a new employee into the child care world, I stress meeting each and every child at their level. We have a long talk about how each child had different abilities and temperaments and needs. We are expected to meet each child on their need as much as is possible. It can be as simple as helping children prepare for the next transition. We talk about those kids who need a 5 minute warning before clean up time. My youngest son will freak out if you all of the sudden say, "okay, time to clean up". He needs fair warning that his play is about to end. He needs time to "wrap-up" his play and be done. He needs to be prepared. Other children couldn't care less, you have to KNOW your students.

This cannot always happen in the "real world" of public schools. The classes are bursting at the seams with children. The day is so packed with the scope and sequence of what the Department of Education says must be accomplished in that school year, that there is little time for much else. In most classrooms, children are not given the opportunity to explore a topic and learn at their own pace. This is not always the fault of the teacher. People like Marla and Angie and Cindy are angels for homeschooling their kids. Years ago, I had images of home schooled families as outsiders, families whose children were not socialized and maladjusted to living in the real world. I have found there are so many families doing the right thing by their children. I envy that. I don't think I would be capable of that. I have a degree in elementary Education, but have chosen not to teach in the "real" school system because I became disheartened by the constraints placed upon teachers.

All in all, my kids had a great day yesterday. I worried for nothing. We shall see what today brings . . .

2007 in review . . .

Well, I wasn't gonna do it, but I guess I will.

January . . . brought with it some changes on the home front. Dustin had a rough time of the few months prior and we started a new and scary medication. "The mother of all anti-psychotics" the psychiatrist called it. It has been a lot of work, but well worth the troubles. It really has been a god-send. Our renters of 3 years moved out. Robert made yet another trip to D.C. for a peace rally. The church that houses the daycare I work at, purchased a new "home" and thus began the most thrilling, scary and eventful 8 months of my life. I am not a fan of change, and this year rocked my world in more ways than one.

Febraury . . . The Colts win the Superbowl. Before the game, our back bathroom pipes froze, I broke a toilet seat, and our front door jam broke and the door was completely un-usable. During the game we had a huge pipe break in the basement, but the Colts won and all is right with the world! We had a nice new family move into our duplex, and did a bunch of improvements next door. Dustin turned 12 and Robert celebrated his birthday as well. Harrison got his tonsils removed and he can finally sleep well and actually swallow food. Amazing. Dustin's behavior at school was absolutely out of control. We began sitting in class with him and he could do it. But, as soon as we left he began acting up and actually attacking staff. We knew all would come to a head soon.

March . . . We modified Dustin's school day to 2 hours daily to try to get some success for him. I bucked the idea and then listened to the success stories. Looking back, it was the best thing I ever did. It has allowed Dustin to make more progress in 9 short months than all the time we have had him combined. He also received his very own 1:1 aide. We also flew to Florida for a vacation with my mom. We had a fabulous time, and the kids enjoyed every minute!

April . . . seemed to fly by as we struggled to change our routines to come to grips with Dustin's new schedule. We had our yearly celebration at daycare and all went well.

May . . . Harrison turned 5. McCartney had her tonsils removed. We now have 3 kids and one set of tonsils. McCartney lost more than her tonsils . . . she hacked off the entire left side of her hair. Blessing in disguise . . . she hated ponytails and didn't like barrettes, now she doesn't need them. The mayor's race got interesting around here, and we worked for Tom as much as our schedule would allow.

June . . . The crazy summer at work began. The weather was beautiful and we spent long days outside with the kids. I got bronzed and tired. At home we stayed outside far into the evening playing with the neighbors.

July . . . Mommy had yet another birthday. I think we spent more time outside this summer than ever before. My kids would rather play outside than just about anything else. Work got crazy as we got closer to moving the facility. I worked in excess of 60 hours some weeks.

August . . . the moving day came. A giant paycheck with tons of overtime came as well. Robert and I celebrated 10 years. Well, I worked and he watched the kids. The move took a ton of time this summer. My baby boy went to kindergarten, and I put him on a "big bus". Dustin continues a modified day at school and is doing fabulous.

September . . . McCartney Raye turned 4 and moved to Pre-K. Football season returned and I could once again see my Colts in action. Robert made another trip to D.C. for a rally and spent a longer time there this time with a police officer friend from Chicago. He enjoyed his time tremendously.

October . . . I reconnected with an old friend in the "blogworld" Angie, and have been frequenting her site since. We installed a huge new playground at the church and worked our tails off to do so. Dustin "ran away" for the first time and scared the pants off Robert. The mayoral election continued with much ado. Tom stayed true-to-form and was kind and complimentary to his opponent through it all. Halloween came and went, an angel and Clark Kent attended the festivities.

November . . . We got to see Evan Bayh support our own Tom Henry. I was accosted by Kelty supporters, and Mayor Tom was elected. Our roof had to be replaced . . . ugh. My kids had their first trip to the Roller Dome and they fell down more than they stayed up. They loved it, and I loved sharing an "old love", roller skating, with them. We made our yearly Thanksgiving trek to Kentucky and spent time with Granny Wanda and Aunt Teresa. McCartney started having symptoms of her Spina Biffida Occulta and we began testing.

December . . . tests for McCartney all came back negative. Great! The writer's strike significantly hampered my TV viewing habits (my world is rocked). My hair got funky as I visited my old stylist. And we celebrated a wonderful Christmas season with parities, food, family, neighbors and friends. We are truly blessed!

And to all my blog-friends, thanks for sharing my year with me!

Fun with Mommy . . .

So let's see . . I'm up until 2:00 this morning playing a ridiculous Guitar Hero song and I finally go up to bed. I am kid-less. They are all three fast asleep in their beds, Robert is downstairs. I have the entire king size bed to myself! Ahhh.

At 4:30, I hear Robert's footsteps coming up and I slightly awaken to realize McCartney is sweetly sleeping next to me. But hark. . . what's that sound? She's retching. Oh my Gosh, awaken yourself woman! But too late, as Robert walks into the bedroom McCartney is now yakking all over my freshly laundered sheets and . . . well, me. As I wake myself, shaking my head to make myself as alert as possible with puke running down the left side of my body, I have Robert put McCartney in the tub. I run to the bathroom to choruses of "Mommy, my nose is bleeding too!" Arghhhhhhh! The tub floor is now covered in blood, and well . . . puke. I wash the kid, my arm and strip the bed.

So now my sheets are once again the in washing machine. My daughter is watching Blue's Clues, and I am now wake for the day.

Ah, motherhood . . . yawn.

**update. . . breaking news. It seems everyone loves me. I just walked in the kitchen and stepped in dog pee. Nice. Poor Cayenne, the excitement must have been too much for her.

Christmas fun . . .

Lazy dog . . . "who put this pillow in my chair?" . . .


Daddy is now addicted to Guitar Hero . . .


Uncle Steve is being attacked . . . "All my daddy a "damn liberal" again, I dare you!" . . .


Little boys LOVE Hot Wheels . . .


Little girls LOVE babies . . .

Bye sweetie . . .

The puppy poopin' machine is gone! Woohoo. I got a call and we decided to meet at the pet store nearby. While I was there wainitng, I had 4 people offer to take her. I should've went and stood there earlier! I have since had 3 more calls. I have developed a new love for craigslist.

Merry, merry . . .

Whirlwind of a couple days. Christmas Eve with my immediate family was nice. The kids were well behaved and I had spent the entire day cleaning, so I was relaxed and sleepy. My mom did stay and help me wrap the presents. Thank goodness, I hate to wrap. I figure the kids couldn't care less and decimate them in about 3 minutes flat, so I'm good. The kids had a great time opening some small gifts Christmas Eve and the "big haul" on Christmas morning. We then went to my aunt's house and ate till we about puked. Dustin, only had one melt-down and spent about 30 minutes in the van calming down.

When we got home, there was a lady standing the lot behind our house with suitcases and a puppy. When we got out of our car she asked if we wanted a puppy. I said that we had plenty of animals. She began to cry saying that she had just gotten kicked out of our house and was hitchhiking back to New Jersey. She said she couldn't find a ride with the pup. I am a sap. I said I would take the dog and find her a good home. About 10 minutes later I was wondering what I had done! A puppy. . . man, oh man.

She is a good dog. Fairly obedient, and after a few tense hours, she was pretty much potty trained. She has only had 1 accident since we got her. I posted her on craigslist, and a few strategically placed flyers around town. Hopefully she will find a permanent home soon. She is excellent with the other animals and with the kids. My daughter is gonna be heartbroken, but I keep repeating my mantra . . . no more dogs, no more animals, no more poop.

Here's to keeping our fingers crossed. . .

The princess . . .

McCartney Raye was born in September 2003. We were fostering 2 very difficult children at the time, Dustin was in a very difficult mental state at the time, and Harrison was 15 months old. I was a crazy-busy pregnant mommy. I began to have problems with my blood pressure and was put on strict bed rest. The following day I began to black out and was sent directly to the hospital to be induced the following morning. I gave birth to McCartney 4 hours later before being induced. She was 17 days early. After she was born, I went directly into surgery and McCartney had difficulty regulating her body temperature so she went into an incubator. Daddy spent the night by her side. We found out the next morning that she had a sacral dimple and could suffer from some form of Spina Biffida. After a few weeks of horrific waiting, we found out she was fine.

She was a mellow baby who slept through the night at 3 weeks old. She was active and alert. She loved being next to her brothers and her eyes lit up when they spoke to her. She was completely bonded to me. Where Harrison was Robert's boy, McCartney was MINE. She cried whenever I was away from her. I was totally responsible for her happiness. I found the "art of baby-wearing" and purchased a sling from Cindy. It was the best thing I ever did. She could be with me and up against me at all times, and yet I could function. When I went back to work, Robert would "wear" her in the sling and it totally helped create a bond. She loves her daddy, but to this day she is MY GIRL.

She was enrolled in speech when she was a toddler because she had nearly no words. After about 3 visits, she was speaking like crazy. I fully believe she could before, she just had no reason to. She knows all her "stuff" but will not perform. Still at 4 years old, it amazes me when she reads a word like she has known what it was for years. You think she has no idea and it quite ditzy, she isn't, she just doesn't flaunt what she knows. I'll ask her how she knows something and she says, "Because I'm smart."

She is bossy and strong-willed. She is sweet and ornery. She can charm the pants off you one minute and scream in your face "you're stupid!" the next. She's purely a girl. When Harrison was little we would ask him, "Are you rotten?" He'd say, "I not rotten, Sissy's rotten!" As ornery as she is, she is also very thoughtful and kind. She knows when someone is upset or angry and tries to reach out to you. She is extremely cuddly, but doesn't like to be held for more than short periods of time. Where Harrison would be content to sit in you lap for hours, she will hug you 15 times in that hour, but will not sit there and will not be still. She is full of energy and always on the move. She is tenacious and determined.

She's my princess who loves to dress up in dresses and skirts and then wants to where jeans and play with the boys. She constantly changes her mind and loves to annoy the pants off her brothers. She pushes Daddy's buttons and drives me over the edge. She's definitely a female!

Awwww. . .

The boy . . .

Harrison Tyler was born in May of 2002. I was frantically dreading labor and promised Robert that there would much screaming and gnashing of teeth. As the day grew nearer, I became quite ill with laryngitis. Robert found it quite amusing. On Monday morning I went into the OB to have a stress test (with 18 days before my due date) and the OB said, "Do you have a bag packed and waiting by the door?" I said, "Yep" and he said quite unexpectedly, "Go home and get it and head to the hospital. This one has cooked long enough, we're gonna induce" I freaked. We headed to the hospital and started the "devil water" drip. 37 hours later I held my wonderfully beautiful baby boy. By the way, during that time in the hospital they had me on IV medications for my throat and by the time birthing time came, I could holler nicely thank you!

Harrison was a mellow and happy baby. He was small and cuddly. He loved to be next to you and against your skin. . . plastered to you actually. Still to this day he cuddles up next to one of us at night when he climbs into bed with us. Since he was born in the spring all of my early memories of Harrison are outside in the yard or on the porch. The best part of that early time with the first baby was the wonder on my husband's face as he looked at his son. The youngest Rouse, the child who would carry on the name. The joy and love that I felt as I looked at my child and my husband were unmatched by any other experience in my life. The bond that I felt was unlike anything else. It always made me weep for Dustin as I imagined his early life and the trauma it contained as I held my little bundle who completely relied on me. Harrison was completely and wholly bonded to daddy. He was definitely Robert's child and spent every waking moment with him. I have a myriad of pictures of Harrison sleeping in the crook of Robert's arm as he types away on the computer.

Harrison has always been a little precocious. He got all of his teeth early. I was at the dentist with him at 11 months asking what the black blood blisters were in his mouth. Astounded the dentist found that they happened to be his 3 year molars. He was speaking to his daycare teacher in full sentences at 13 months. By 2 he could tell you all his colors and recite simple poems and sang a boat-load of songs from memory. He knew all of his letters, upper case and lower case at 3. By 4 he was reading with comprehension. He seemed to absorb everything he saw. He is inquisitive and veracious in his learning and questioning. He is intuitive to his surroundings. He is curious and lovable . . . and ornery.

Kindergarten has been a challenge. As advanced as he is in his learning, he is immature. He is sensitive and can have what we refer to as "melt-downs". He astounds me with his wit and his humor. He is a likable child who makes friends easily. He is out going with other children and is very imaginative in his play. He's my boy, my first born and I couldn't live without him.

Comfort food . . .

My favorite cold weather soup. . .

In about 4 cups of water boil 3 potatoes cubed and a chopped onion until potatoes are tender. Add 4 bouillon cubes, 2 cans of cream of chicken soup, one package of chopped broccoli pieces thawed, one pound of velveeta cheese cubed.

Curl up on the couch with a comfy blankie and eat broccoli soup while watching football. Recipe for a great Sunday!

The chosen one . . .

I decided this Christmas season I would do a post about each one of my kids. Today is Dustin's day. I talk about him a lot, but I decided I would share with you about my eldest and maybe you'll learn something you don't yet know about him.

Dustin has only been in our lives since 2001, but he has certainly made an impact on the way we see the world. He is a loving, kind and helpful child. He will happily complete any task or chore that you give him as long as he is kept on task and he doesn't think it is a punishment. He loves to be a "helper" and this can really distract him from unwanted behaviors if used properly.

The day he came into our life was a rainy one. He had a silly bowl cut haircut, a dirty jean jacket under a too-large spiderman raincoat. He also had a striped weighted "Snake" on his neck. He was sitting in the front seat of a pickup truck rocking back and forth, sucking his cheeks in. He had large "pick marks" across the top of his head from his obsessive-compulsive picking. He was obviously a mess. I can't say it was "love at first sight", actually it was fairly obvious this child came with "baggage" and it scared the stink out of me. Robert turned to me and said, "Is it too late to run?" The next few hours were interesting as he explored our home and got into far too many things. We dug worms all afternoon. He was loving and fun and yet very distant. The next visit was far better and by then, we had become attached to this odd, funny, "broken" child. We knew we were destined to be a home for Dustin, if only til the "right one" came along. Little did we know, the "right one" was us!

Having Dustin has made me look at the world in a different way. In one respect it has made me more aware of the "ugliness" the world has to offer. The ugliness that allows mother's to drink while pregnant, the ugliness of mother's allowing others to harm your child in your own home, and the ugliness of some aspects of foster care. In another respect we have seen ugliness in people's reactions to our son and his behavior, the ugliness of expectations the school has had of him complying with "general education" standards, and the ugliness of misunderstanding even within our own extended families when it comes to "what is best" for Dustin and our choices in dealing with him. We can also experience the ugliness in ourselves when we have "reached our limit" in dealing with the daily struggles that life with Dustin comes with. It is those time when having a supportive spouse and a committed father is absolutely a god-send. We have learned when it is time to "tag-team" Dustin.

Thankfully having Dustin has also opened us up to a whole new world of kindness. I have experienced the kindness of another mother in a restaurant who gives you that "knowing" look and a kind smile when he is wailing about something. I have seen how he touches people and how his story has changed someone's perception about the world of a moderately handicapped child. I have experienced the kindness and patience of his teachers and his administrators who deal with his issues daily. The kindeness of the ones who have a true heart for the moderately hanidcapped child and truly give all they have on a daily basis and still can give a parent encouragement and praise. I have unfortunately experienced the kindness of behavioral hospital staff who take care of your baby when you cannot keep him safe from himself. Those staff who know it is not the fault of bad parenting that your child needs their services. I have also seen the kindness of my husband in his dealing with Dustin. He is so very patient and determined to give Dustin the best possible life. I have also felt the kindness of families like my own and some who are learning about families like ours who have commented on this blog and others. These words of encouragement and advice mean more than you can know.

We often say that Dustin's saving grace is his kindness. We have been touched by the kindness and acceptance from a child who has been "for-saken" by some many other adults in his life. He loves us unconditionally. He trusts. For that we are truly blessed.

Good news . . .

I just got word that my daughter's MRI results were normal. That makes my day. Now I cen rest assured that the leg pains are growing pains and the "piddling" is normal 4 year old stuff. Life is good.

My boy acting goofy . . .

The update . . .

Today we were supposed to go to McCartney's pediatrician for her blood work results. They called and we need to repeat one of the tests. Meaning another blood draw. Stink! She was good the first time, so maybe it will be alright. The MRI went great the other day, by the way. She was a fabulous patient and the nurses at the Lutheran Children's Hospital outpatient clinic are PHENOMENAL! It was a very positive experience and the intensivist that did her sedation was great. The meds were easy on her and it was as though nothing was done about 5 minutes after the procedure. I should know something soon from that test.

The bloodwork issue is a bit concerning. The doc said that she had an odd bacteria, and he wanted to repeat the test so they could rule something out. Hmmm. I'm so glad I am medicated, because "pre-OCD medicated Sheri" would be crawling out her skin waiting to hear something. Modern medicine is amazing.

Now how about modern non-medicine. I have used alternative medicine in the past, actually quite often. I have seen an iridologist, and would love to visit Solomon Wickey someday. My mom has learned about something called an Aqua Chi Footbath. Anyone heard about this? The info on the web looks promising and interesting, but you could find a website for making gold out of soap if you wanted to. I wanna try it, but it is quite pricey to have the procedure done. Anyone out there seen this or have any testimonials? Or am I just crazy?

My baby . . .

The first Christmas Robert and I were married, he bought me a special present. He bought me a cockatiel. We thought for sure it was aboy so we named it Elvis. Elvis turned out to be a girl. She was an awesome bird. Fully flighted and really special. I adored her and it spawned a love of birds for me. I became addicted to birds. We ended up with many different birds over the years, some from bredding, some from rescue. With the birth of the kids we have decreased our flock to 2 birds. (We recently lost our last cockatiel a month or so ago) We have a blue and gold macaw named "Boomer" and an african grey named "Caesar". I have blogged about Caesar and his escapades before when I spoke about the passing of Alex, a famous African Grey.

Boomer is my baby. We brought him home before he was fully weaned, which was a huge mistake. I had to hand-feed him day and night and make sure he was eating and gaining weight. At first I had to feed him through a syringe and then by soaking food and dropping it in his mouth. I was un-godly concerned about him not gaining weight and I had to take him to the vet and weigh him weekly. It was a mess. He is definitely my baby. He does speak. He says, "Shut Up Boomer" and "Dustin! Go to time out" and "Diiinnnnner!" and "That's enough!" and "Robert, I need you!" other wonderful things we say around here constantly. We wanted him to be able to say thank you when he was handed something so every time we gave him a treat, we would say, "Say Thank You Boomer". You guessed it, he now says, "Say Thank You Boomer". Not too bright, but loveable.

I'm not sure he is doing well. He should live to be about 60-80 years old and I think he is about 10 years old. He doesn't seem quite right. Tonight I got him out of the cage and gave him some lovin' and decided to take some photos to share.


Showin' the love!


Who's your momma?


A pretty boy! (or maybe a girl, who knows?)


Lovin' the scratchin'


Cayenne isn't too happy when Boomer tries to kiss her.

Flashback . . .

Today I went to get my haircut. My sister-in-law has been cutting my hair for some time, but infomed me last month that she was no longer doing hair. I freaked out when she told me but then she reminded me that her mom was doing hair again. Her mother who used to cut my hair back in my "punk rock" days and always had some crazy cut or color for my hair. So today, I made me first trek up to the small town north of here to get a cut. She asked me if I wanted to get colored to and I said I hadn't planned on it, but I would like to. She said she already had some color mixed, so it would be easy. She then went in the back to mix another red and began coloring. I sat there processing while she cut someone else's hair and she came over the check on me. She made this little laughing sound and said, "Oh yeah, I think you're definintely ready to rinse." When she was done rinsing, she said, "If I remember right you like crazy right?" Yeah, like 20 years ago, but it was a little late. My hair is crazy and I love it.

If only . . .

I blogged on Friday about Dustin saying things at school about his former abuse. I also blogged that he had a therapy appointment later that day and I thought it would be nice to visit that topic then. When Robert picked me up at work Friday evening, I asked how it went. He said that Dustin told her that he was thinking about being hurt because he had some bad dreams about his abuser lately (which I think is a crock). He tends to say he has bad dreams every time he gets in trouble, steals or says things that aren't true. He has learned through years of therapy that they always ask him if he has bad dreams and he always says "yes" even if he never mentions having bad dreams at home. I don't fully believe he has them, I think he uses that as a learned excuse. Whether or not he does doesn't dismiss the idea that he is telling people at school things that are not true.

So, do you know what his therapists answer to the issue is?

Freakin' pixie dust.

She told my concrete thinking, 12 year old FAS child to sprinkle pixie dust around his bed at night to keep the bad dreams away. This is a woman who is supposed to understand FAS. Pixie dust is her answer.

Please.

She didn't talk about telling truths. She didn't talk about past tense or present tense. She didn't deal with his PTSD issues. She told him to sprinkle imaginary pixie dust. Better yet. . . she actually told my husband to get a shaker and put some pixie dust (nothing) in it and use it at bedtime.

No. I will not. And she better be glad I didn't take him to this appointment. If only it were that easy.

Soap, neurology, and accusations . . .

Thank goodness today is Friday, I'm not sure I can handle another day this week. Today was McCarntey's doctor's appointment with the neurologist, but we took a detour first. We ended up over at Cindy's house and bought a bunch of her fabulous hand-made soups for Christmas gifts. She is quite a talented lady. I sniffed so much soap that my nose still has the aroma of soap in it. I did buy a tub of body butter in Icy Juniper that I am already addicted to. I can't wait to bless my friends with some awesome soaps for the holidays,. and I can't wait to take a shower! Stop on over to Simple Indulgence and visit her website today to buy some soaps! If you are in area, she also has a display over at Angie's shop, the Lakeside Learning Garden, that she said she will restock soon.

On to the appointment. The neurologist is a wonderful man! I forgot how much I liked him. we talked at length about McCartney's issues and he is concerned with the 2 diferent forms of incontinence that she has. He said he felt she was fine, but felt "in his gut" that he should do some testing to be certain we aren't dealing with an issue related to the Spina Bifida Occulta. She will have blood work, xrays and 2 kinds of MRI's done. That will tell us if there are any issues going on that need specialized attention. He also fouond that the reflexes in her lower limbs are deficient. She has almost none in her knees, hips or ankles. Odd. He said he could feel them, but they are not what they should be. So, something else to make me worry. Actually he did make me feel at peace with all this and said he is fairly confident that she is fine. He said that if an issue is found it is reasonably easy to fix and/or deal with at this age. So that helps.

I came home to have Robert take me back to work so that he can use the van (we are a one car family) and he tells me something even more concerning. Dustin told the teachers at school today that he was constantly hit and pushed this morning before school by his father. UGH! not this again. Due to Dustin's PTSD, we struggle with invasive memories that pop up from time to time. We usually see him bring these things up near the holdiay season, so it wasn't really a surprise as much as it was concerning. It alway freak out when he says these things beacuse you're not certain who is going to believe them and start an investigation. With Dustin's functional level combined with the FAS he has no concept of time order and when you ask him about something in the past he will always say yesterday, or this morning, or today. So, it can be confusing. Robert talked to the teacher and she didn't believe Dustin, but I know the red flags are always there. It scares the crap out of me. When I talked to Dustin about it he said, "Oh I meant a long time ago." We talked about how people can believe him and he says he understands, but I know it won't matter the next time. Thankfully he has therapy today and maybe they can talk about it, or at least get our concerns on the record.

My funny boy . . .

Last night I was whooped and decided to go to bed early. The kids were still awake (fortunately still in their beds) and when they heard me coming up the stairs I was blessed with their presence in MY bed. We prayed together, laughed and said our goodnights. McCartney reached over to take my hand and accidently hit Harrison in the nose. I said, "Oh man, did sis hit you in the schnoz?" He giggled and said, "What the heck is a schnoz?" I told him it was a silly word for nose.

It became quiet. Suddenly in this sweet little voice Harrison said, "I love you mommy. Know how much?" To which the answer is inevitably "all my heart." But last night, in the quietest little voice, he said, "With all my schnoz." And all three of us broke out in the most uncontrollable laughter.

Catching you unaware . . .

A while ago, I read a post over at Adventures with Toots and Noodles about her crying over something that reminded her of her father who recently passed away. She had heard a commercial for a Christmas toy truck from the company that her father worked for. Her father used to purchase one every year for her son. She talked about the emotions that hit her and she cried in the car. She asked if this is the kind of thing that happens.

It has been 11 years since my father passed. Occassionally I get teary when I think about my children birthdays or Christmas traditions that my father will never be able to be a part of. I smile when I hear certain songs he liked on the radio and think about times we sang them together. It weird the things you remember. I vividly remember singing "(Don't Fear) The Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult in dads car going home from Sam's Club one night. (I told you it was weird) Whenver I hear that song I am taken back to that road on that night in his red Berretta Z26, singing BOC with dad.

This weekend I was sitting in my sister-in-laws living room in Kentucky and I saw something that made me weep. Lotion. My dad always had a bottle od Cornhuskers Lotion in his side of the headboard. A bottle of lotion made me cry. I think Teresa thought I was nuts. So yeah, this like this happen.

Attraction . . .

On the way home, we took a little detour so Robert could show me a cool little place near Mammoth Cave. He remembers staying here as a little boy. It is too neat.

Holiday Road . . .

Wednesday started awfully scary. The pediatrician was concerned about McCartney's issues and said that each one of them is nothing to be alarmed with. The fact that she has a sacral dimple and had both of these issues is of pretty big concern. He is having some blood work done on her to rule out arthritis, etc. He is also sending us back to her neurologist. I'm assuming that means we have another MRI. We had one when she was 3 weeks old and then one when she was 2 years old. This one I think will be more traumatic. I can't imagine her being still for this one. They will probably have to sedate her. The pediatrician did tell me that they will check to see if her spinal cord is tethered (stuck to the boney defect in her pelvis). I told him that they dtermined ti wasn't back when she was born. That was what I held on to all this time knowing that we coudln't have any spina bifida issues later if the cord was not involved. Well, I found out that all can change. The cord can become tethered as she grows. Great. We see the neurologist Friday, they got us in right away. I hope he thinks we are worrying for nothing, and I am praying all the tests come back okay.

The rip to Kentucky was nice. The drive on Wednesday was horrendous and the rainny conditions didn't help much. They kids had a great time with Aunt Teresa and Grandy Wanda. And they were thrilled to have their Christmas presents from that side of the family. McCartney ahd a huge meltdown at bedtime. After listening to her cry for about an hour and a half, I pulled on some jeans over my jammies and carried her out to the car to go for a ride. No shoes, no coat, no phone. I actually had to cover her mouth because she began screaming, "No don't take me!" I thought one of Teresa's neighbors may actually think I was abducting her. She settled down after about 6 trips down 31W in Bowling Green. She was cmpletely exhausted and went to sleep before we even got into the house.

Dinner was great. Grandy Wanda came over to cook about 7:00 am and the dinner was done about 10:00 so we did what any respectable family would do. We ate before it could get cold and have to be rewarmed. It was pretty odd eating Thanksgiving dinner at 10:00 am, but what the heck, it was good.

The trip home was pretty uneventful until we got into Fort Wayne and saw a gruesome accident Thanksgiving night. It did remind me of how thankful I am for my family and how I am very blessed.


I rode in the back most of the time so Dustin couldn't irritate "the littles"


The sillies creeped in by Louisville.


Annoying the brother.


Sweetness.

Kentucky and OSD . . .

The blue hills of Kentucky are calling our names, maybe that's just Grandy Wanda (as McCartney calls her). We are heading south for the turkey holiday and I have TONS to do to get ready. We haven't ventured to the Bluegrass state since the weekend after last year's Thanksgiving. I look forward to seeing Robert's mom and sister and all the rest of the family. The kids look forward to running around the farm chasing cows and torturing Grandy Wanda's farm cats. My mom has returned from Florida and is taking "the littles" home tonight to play at her house, so maybe I'll get some stuff done.

I am also fretting over a doctor's appointment that McCartney tomorrow morning. She has been complaining about her legs hurting for about 3 weeks. I have brushed it off to "growing pains", but this weekend she was really complaining. (McCartney can run a 103 fever and act like nothing's wrong. She has a pretty high pain tolerance) After I investigated, I found out that what is really hurting her are the front of her thighs up around her hips. McCartney was born with Spina Biffida Occulta and has a visible sacral dimple. We have had MRIs in the past to rule out a smaller opening at the top of her spinal cord and a tethered cord at the bottom. I am however concerned about her hips hurting along with her incontinence that she struggles with. She is a "piddler". Some kids with OSD (occult spinal dysraphism) have issues with due to lack of sensation and don't feel like they have to potty until it is too late. That's my girl. I've never thought it was too big of an issue, but this coupled with leg pain worries me.

Our pediatrician is awesome I adore him. I worry that he will think I'm nuts and she is fine. I also worry that it could be a problem. I guess I'll find out tomorrow.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly . .

The GOOD. It was a nice day. I left work early to take Dustin to a therapy appointment. I spoke to the therapist about how I can react to Dustin and his issues differently. We also spoke about how his behavior is effecting "the littles" and how I can stop some of that as well. Most of what she said I will incorporate into my daily parenting, some not so much. She is good, but she doesn't get what it is like to live with an FAS child. After the appointment we did the bi-weekly blood work and for the first time ever he was good with me. (usually he's great with Robert). I didn't even have to go into the lab room. We had a wonderful day running errands and doing a small bit of grocery shopping. He was happy and funny and a joy to be around.

We went to pick up "the littles" at daycare and he was very well behaved as well. Robert is sick in bed with a fever and I came home, put away groceries, made dinner and cleaned up with minimal issues from the kids. Super. However, about 20 minutes ago the BAD started. Dustin stormed up the stairs and slammed his door because I busted him putting things under his rug instead of picking them up. He is really mad at me. I'm letting him cool down before I tell him the consequences of his fit.

The UGLY. I have opened my mouth thinking I was asked to be honest by someone and inserted my foot. Either this person thought I was going to sugar coat my feelings, or they really had no idea that their actions effected me as they did. I should have just pushed it back down because I had already dealt with the issues and gotten over them. I thought we were "clearing our chests". Apparently not. I have never been one to sugar coat anything. I have very little tact. Pretty much what you see is what you get from me. I like to think that I am a very trusting and caring person who would give and give and give until it hurt if I considered you a friend and thought you needed it. Sometimes it gets me in trouble, but you know what? I'd do it again, just with less emotion. I trust too much sometimes. I let things go when I probably shouldn't. I have become more jaded over this past year, and I thought by sharing it would help heal. Maybe I was wrong.

The result. I will go on. My family is more important than stressing over something I cannot change. Years ago this would've devastated me. I have learned that you make your own choices and not coming to grips with your emotions can destroy you. I wish I would've smiled and said, "No problem.", but then again, that wouldn't have been me. What is left is between me and my God.

Roll on . . .

Last night I took both "the littles" to their first roller skating outing. Harrison's school had a skate party at the Roller Dome and we had a blast. I nearly peed my pants watching my kids fall over and over and over. Actually, Harrison must have fallen 300+ times, but McCartney, who is the klutziest child, did remarkably well. She had so much fun watching Harrison fall that she actually would "sympathy-fall" for him right after he would.

It was interesting to see her interact with other children. Until know I really haven't observed her with other kids other than daycare and church. She has no fear of rejection, she will talk to any and every child. She made friends with a little girl and they skated around holding hands most of the night. She also watched the kids do the macarena and the cha-cha slide and did all the motions as well. It was hysterical.

The night actually made me remember all the skating parties I went to in elementary school. I can remember tooling around the rink in my jeans with the satin roller skate on the butt and woven ribbon- braided barretts in my hair, groovin' to Blondie's "Rapture" or Queen's "Another One Bite's the Dust". We would then take a break and eat a big ol' Dill Pickle.

Boy, we thought we were cool.

A gift from Harrison . . .

Yesterday afternoon the supervisor came into my office to tell me that Harrison had "thrown up everywhere". When you work at a daycare, you realize that some people have a different idea of what constitutes "everywhere". I went to his room, and sure enough, he had puked everywhere. But, because he is my boy, he didn't get anything on his clothes. I am a good puker. My boy has no problems letting it fly so to speak.

We went home and propped him up on the small couch and he proceeded to beg for food. No way Jay. Finally I got him to sleep and he slept through the evening. I woke about 1:30 in the morning and had the very same issues. Nice. Thanks son.

This morning, after being up all night, I took the kids downstairs and McCartney began the wonderful job of yakking. Nice. She however never acts sick, so she spent the day running around and making a mess. I spent the day on the couch sleeping on and off. Hopefully tomorrow we will be back to work and school.

Every parent's nightmare . . . School pictures . . .

My sweet little kindergartener . . .






My dear Pre-K girl . . .

Call me anytime . . .

I had the most wonderful phone call from Dustin's teacher last night. She began by calling us about busing since there are 1/2 days of school today for teacher conferences. Since Dustin goes to school on a modified day, his buses are not available to bring him home. We are keeping him out of school since I cannot provide transportation. What followed gave my heart hope.

I have been astounded lately at Dustin's progress. The behaviors are still there and always will be. His is impulsive as always and can turn his attitude from good to ugly on a dime. Even though he is more like a 4 year old than a 12 year old, he still has the hormones, and the snarky pre-teen seeps out from time to time. That being said . . .

He is doing REALLY well in school. For those of you who may be new readers, Dustin had a particularly bad run of school last year. His first year of middle school (in a Moderately Handicapped Program) consisted of a 14 day hospital stay, 9 suspensions, countless days in In-School-Suspensions. Behaviorally he was running out of the building, stabbing people with pencils, wrapping the television cord around a teachers neck, biting, yelling, riding on a child's electric wheelchair WHILE the child was in it, etc. Need I say more? Near the end of the school year, we chose in an IEP conference to modify his school day to 2 hours and provide a 1:1 aide. Did I say we chose? I didn't have an option. It was either that or the school system was done. Alternative placements had been exhausted and due to his ow IQ, a behavioral placement would not have been functional for him. (Thankfully, because that was a washout before) According to Article 7 in Indiana, the school is required to provide appropriate placement for my child and if there isn't one they have to create one. In Dustin's case it seemed appropriate placement was home-bound instruction if modified day didn't work. Much to my surprise and delight, it did work. We then increased his day to 3 hours at the beginning of this school year.

This first 10 weeks of school has been spent reintegrating Dustin back into the classroom. His aide accompanies him, but she has taken more and more time to help other children and give Dustin the space to learn to regulate himself in the classroom on his own. He has done REMARKABLY well. When his teacher called me last night, she had nothing but positive things to say about this "new" child in her classroom. His aggressive behaviors have disappeared, and his learning has definitely taken and up-swing. The emergent literacy I am seeing at home is definitely being noticed at school. His writing skills are far superior to where he was before and he has even begun cursive and is excelling. She told me the days that comes home with sad faces on his behavior card is simply because they are increasing their expectations and that those "sad face" days would've been happy face days last year. INCREDIBLE! His aide is increasingly away from his side and he is still remaining on task and focused for the most part. He is even doing 2nd grade story problems in math and loves it.

I was flabbergasted when I got off the phone. I have never, in the 7 years we have had Dustin, received a phone call from the teacher such as this one. I am thrilled at his progress. Now, if he could leave his sister alone. . .

Sunday at the Courthouse Green . . .

Family.

We've heard it all over this election from Matt Kelty. The "families of Fort Wayne". Well, today at the Courthouse Green we saw those families of Fort Wayne and they were supporting Tom Henry. As opposed to the "white crew" that supports Matt Kelty in this flyer, this was a diverse crowd kn support of the ONLY mayoral candidate in Fort Wayne. It wsa a beautiful day, a good crowd and a nice visit from Evan Bayh. I saw friends, neighbors, bloggers and some other wonderful people downtown supporting Tom.

I now have a picture of three generations, my father, my husband and my daughter, with Senator Bayh.

I found it amusing that when asked about Evan Bayh flying in to endorse Tom, Kelty said something to the effect of "it's not who support you about economic growth in our community". Maybe that's because no one is supporting you! Ha Ha!

Raise the roof . . .

Today is the day. We begin our roof project. It has needed done for the entire summer, but thankfully has not leaked yet. So today, we have shingles coming to complete the project. I had planned to get up there and help my brother, but I just told Robert that and he said, "I don't think that is a good idea." I laughed and asked why. He replied, "I've seen you trip and fall on a flat surface."

Good point.

Maybe I will still defy my husband and the laws of gravity. If so I'll be sure to post a picture. Isn't home ownership fun?