The storm . . .

While I know it is all relative and many people are having hard times lately, whether it be financially, their trauma-kiddos, or the recent tornadoes across the nation, it's been pretty rough in my world. That is not a secret (because I do air my dirty laundry out for all to see . . . and one boy who shall remain nameless runs down the street in some of it!)

Today there were storms predicted all day. The storms were pretty intense this morning around these parts and I went out to run an errand at lunchtime. The storms had broken and there was a gorgeous sunny and warm day underneath. It was awesome. Had I not just stepped in a puddle that cleared the top of my sandal and soaked my feet, I may not have even known a rough storm just blew through.

They are saying that these storms will likely last through the evening and even have the possibility to spawn some tornadoes in our area. It could get ugly. It might be a rough night.

But right now . . . I choose to be thankful for the sunshine.

I think about how that mirrors the life we are living with a child with very specific needs like ours. He is organically affected by his mother's prenatal alcohol abuse. He is emotionally affected by the early trauma he experienced in his bio-home as well as with the many moves he experienced in foster care. Which one of us wouldn't be?

He has cycles of really rough behavior and then just when you think you cannot handle anymore . . .

Just when you think that the raging will destroy you, your family, and the life you live . . .

Just when you think that you are unable to maintain any sort of normalcy . . .

The sun breaks through.

It could be the behaviors diminish. It could be your way of thinking changes, his behaviors mellow due to your attitude shift, and you are better equipped to deal with the behaviors that linger. It could be that you talk to some heavenly women who are traveling this path with you and you get filled up to the point of overflowing with kind gestures, words and encouragement. It could be that you just put on your big girl panties and learn that this too shall pass and the storm will subside (even for a bit) and give you a chance to breath in the fresh air and soak in the sunshine.

Even though you know what COULD be around the corner. What could be blowing in from the west could have a horrendous impact on you and your family. But being able to have those few moments of sun can help fend off the worst of it. And perhaps it may just blow over altogether and you get a reprieve . . . until next time.

And you will deal with that when it comes.

Help me Lord . . .

Dustin went back on his full dose of Abilify this morning. He is much happier. He is less impulsive.

The constant chatter is back FULL FORCE. He absolutely cannot control sounds from coming out of his ever-loving mouth. He is talking NON STOP, making no sense, making fart noises, saying "Did you hear me?" every fifteen seconds, repeating what everyone says.

Don't get me wrong. I will take this over the running out and hitting me anytime. But my ears are already tired and I have only been home one hour.

Anyone else notice this with Abilify? Or am I just lucky?

Just to clarify, I will welcome this with open arms if the underwear boy stops his daily trek out into the wide world.

Crispy . . .

Just when you think that you cannot handle anymore, God tends to throw you what you need. I received several life preservers this morning in the form of emails and facebook messages.

I can keep doing this. So many are travelingthe same road. So many have gone before and paved the way. It may have been paved with blood, sweat and tears, but it is still paved.

It may be hard and ugly, but it is what I am called to do.

My new favorite motto is: I can do this... even if I get a lil singed on the edges! Afterall - it is the "crispy" ones that are the best

I should not say it . . .

I have been blogging for nearly 6 years. I have gone through spurts where I blog numerous posts daily to only posting weekly. Sometimes I think no one is reading these and I should just stop and other times I don't care who is reading because I need this place to vent. Sometimes I worry about saying too much and other times I think I need to be honest for others who are going through the same thing. Sometimes I think what I am writing is falling on deaf ears, and then I get a fabulous comment that makes it all worth it.

Today is a day I really should not be blogging. I have a lot of things I really should not say.

I should not say that sometimes (especially after a weekend where he ran out 3 times) that I really don't want to be around my child. I should not say that it is hard. I should not say that I blame his birth mother for mucking up his whole existence and sometimes I hate her for it. I really should not say that although I love him to pieces and would not ever change the fact that we adopted him that I wonder what our life would've been like had we not.

I should not say that I hate my house. I hate plumbing issues. I hate the fact that we live paycheck to paycheck. I should not say that although I love my job and feel it is my calling that the pay rates SUCKS. I should not say that I envy those who do not have to worry about money and paying bills.

I should not say that I really want to crawl into bed and sleep for about 5 days straight. I should not say that I couldn't care less if my children eat chocolate cake for breakfast and wear the same clothes to school for 5 days if I could just sleep. I should not say that the husband should take care of things so I could just clock out for 5 days and do nothing. (mostly because then he would want a turn!)

What should you not say?

Again? Seriously . . .

I am sure you are sick and tired of hearing about our trials with the running. Personally I am tired of living with it. I feel like I need to document it, so if you want you can totally skip this post, however, we did get a very big gift this morning in the shape of a possible "community" that I will talk about too.

I woke this morning with an awful migraine. I used to LIVE with migraines from the time I was 10 until about 10 years ago when I went on a preventative. I went from having 4-5 a week to having maybe one a month. I have been having them with much more frequency and I hope it is stress related or linked to my back injury. I really don't want to go back to having them so often. Anyway, I stayed in bed to try to sleep off the migraine and Robert and all the kids went downstairs.

About an hour later Robert burst into the room and said he had to chase Dustin because he took off again, in his underwear. I could hardly believe it. This was the third time in as many days. I got dressed and headed downstairs.

We have a new set of neighbors that live next door. Until now we have only seen glimpses of them since they moved in during the winter months. They have a boy who visits every other weekend who is super polite and a really good kid who comes over to our yard and plays with my littles. I knew that any parent who had a child this pleasant had to be "good people". The mom was standing at my door when I came downstairs.

She told me that he husband and son were helping Robert chase him. She said she could tell we were stressed and that she wanted to help. She asked if her son could help entertain Dustin some days. I told her that she needed to rest of the story and she said she understood. She said, "I can see he is not normal, honey, he is running in his underwear!" We laughed. She said, "Honey my son is 22 years old and has a passion for helping others. He works third shift and I know he would help you out by playing games with your boy." I nearly started crying. This family really knows nothing about us and they were concerned about us. She was concerned with our stress level. She kept saying, "we need to get YOU some help." It was sweet. They said to come get them every time he runs.

The best part is that this family is african american and Dustin has always been extra-respectful to african americans. When he came to us he was fearful of them due to his prior family's misconceptions, and we have worked hard to change that. I think his initial fear has turned to cautiousness.

They caught Dustin at the end of our block. Scarily, he was trying to walk off the path that heads directly to the riverbank. They hollered for me and I walked my underwear-clad child home.

This is tiring. This is embarrassing. Perhaps we have a community who is willing to help, we can hope.

Rough day . . .

Today was not good. Dustin was off from the minute he got up in the morning. I tried loving on him for a bit this morning, but he was combative. I knew it was going to be ugly. When I left the house to go to the fabric store he took off. He was unseen for close to an hour. Usually when he runs he is easily spotted as he juts all over the neighborhood. Today he hid. We called the police after about 45 minutes. They had to chase him and tackle him again.

At least this time he had clothes on.

I don't know how we are going to make it through the summer.

Finishing the porch . . .

I decided last week that I wanted to paint the trim on the porch. I chose a soft sage green and an even lighter color of the same swatch. What a pain! I have about 60 feet of railings. Ugh. I finished on Thursday evening and I had some touch up to do today.

I deiced our old table needed some love. I went and picked out some outside fabric and considered making a tablecloth. I knew it would drive me nuts if it was always hanging crooked. The kids play on the porch a lot and I knew it would be crooked a lot so I thought about making on that is fitted.
First, I brought the table inside. I laid the fabric out upside down and flipped the table upside down on top of the table, on top of the fabric. I cut about 4-6 inches from the edge of the table.
Then I pinned the fabric around the circle so that I could sew a channel in it.
I tucked as I went along so the channel was pretty uniform.

I put elastic in the channel and sewed the ends together making something that looks like a giant shower cap.
I used the remainder of the fabric to cover two outside pillows I had already. I simply sewed an envelope slip cover and tucked the old ones inside.

Cute huh?

Thoughts for Friday . . .

What is with all this rain? I am about done with it and my grass is going to reach my armpits before I get to mow it.

Dustin ran out again yesterday. This time he was fully clothed. Robert chased him on our moped and he finally came over to him. Robert took him to Dairy Queen for complying. I hope we havn't started something, but he already runs out so maybe this will help. I have a feeling we are gonna need stock in ice cream.

I signed Harrison up for tennis lessons. We have never really done anything like this with the exception of a horrible experience with T-ball. We shall see if he likes it.

I signed McCartney up for gymnastic classes. She is the klutziest kid on the planet. This should be interesting. She will however rock the leotards and the hairbows!

I finished painting the trim on my front porch this week. What the heck was I thinking? That was a lot of work. It did however give me a break each night from the children and my porch looks great. Sorry hubby.

My crazy summer starts in a few weeks. I will be doing 2 field trips each day with the exception of Wednesday mornings. That means 9 field trips a week! Fun times. Busy, but still fun.

EPS . . .

I was asked after the last post about EPS. EPS is extrapyramidal symptoms. It is a reaction to anti-psychotic medication. The first medication Dustin had a reaction to was trileptal. He broke out in a massive rash. He was fine in the morning when we sent him to school and within an hour or arriving he was covered in a rash from head to toe. The nurse said you could actually watch it grow. It was freaky. This was after about a week on the medication. It is unclear as to whether the reaction would've gotten worse and developed into EPS. We gave him Benadryl immediately and for about 5 days after and he never took it again.

The next reaction was to Trazadone. After he had been taking it about 4 weeks he began to have problems with him bottom jaw. I thought it was simply a tic and had become a habit. Within a few days he was slobbery and talking funny. He complained of a sore throat and he talked like he had strep throat. A cough started so we gave cough medicine. That Thursday at school (he was attending an alternative school on the campus where his former psychiatrist was) they called the psychiatrist over to the school because he was complaining of his neck hurting. At this time NO ONE told me this was a group of dangerous side effects called EPS. They just said he was having a reaction. The doc gave him Cogentin and said it would get better.

By Friday he was a bit better physically but he was very paranoid and very distracted. He kept looking up to the place where the ceiling meets the wall. He was not sleeping. The p-doc visited with him at school again and upped the Cogentin, still leaving him on the Trazadone.

By Saturday morning we were in deep. His neck was so wore he could not move his head downward. He was constantly looking up. He was displaying Dyskinesias, Akathisia and Dystonia.

Dyskinesias are movement disorders and can include any of a number of repetitive, involuntary, and purposeless body or facial movements like :

• Tongue movements, such as "tongue thrusts" or "fly-catching" movements
• Lip smacking
• Finger movements
• Eye blinking
• Movements of the arms or legs
  

He was doing ALL of these. He had no idea he was doing them. He was clueless. You could tell him to stop and he would just say what and keep doing it.

Akathisia is an extreme form of internal or external restlessness. It may be a complete inability to sit still, with an urge to be moving constantly. I think this was why he was unable to sleep. I have been told that this can lead to suicide because it is so unbearable.

Dystonia is a muscle tension disorder involving very strong muscle contractions. These uncontrollable muscle contractions can cause unusual twisting of parts of the body, especially the neck. The condition can be extremely painful and can affect any part of the body, including the eyes. He would be totally okay then he would look like he was having a seizure. He would just start jerking his shoulder or his leg or his arm. It was frightening.

It was so bad, my mom came and took him to her house so we could have a break. While there he started have awful hallucinations. He was saying that "they" were coming from the ceiling. By about 9:00 at night he was screaming and running saying that the demons were coming to get him. He was pointing and screaming. At this point he had not slept in about 56 hours. My mom called scared. I came over and we took him to the ER. They admitted him and we removed him from the Trazadone. It took 3 days in the hospital and lots of shots of Geodon to dope him up while his body recovered.

He has had a few other instances of this reaction. The first time he had the reaction I called our current psychiatrist (who was new to us at the time) and told him that we had this happen before. He called it EPS and had me immediately remove him from the med. He told me that if we ignored the reaction it could be very dangerous. One time it happened in the psych hospital and I noticed it while visiting. Two other times we had recently had a dosage increase and reverting to the old dosage worked to stop the EPS. He has a very touchy system and dosage increases have to be done very small. I am thankful that our psychiatrist understands this and is super careful.

Scary stuff.

Thank Goodness for meds . . .

Shortly after we came home from Florida we had to remove Abilify from Dustin's medication regimen. I have never thought that his Abilify was particularly helpful anyway so I was okay with it. Our state-sponsored insurance in Indiana is FABULOUS. I have very little to complain about in that area of our lives. The kicker is that a portion of psychotropic drugs need a prior authorization. Meaning that your doctor has to provide documentation that the meds your child needs once or twice a year is necessary. It is a tedious process for the psychchiatrists office who is already receiving payment at a reduced rate. They will not cover two meds that do the same thing without a bit of difficulty.

Dustin's system is very sensitive when to comes to upping dosages on medication. He develops EPS very quickly and it can be life threatening. For this reason, he is on Chlozaril and Abilify. Both are anti-psychotics for his schizophrenia. I did not think dropping the Abilify would make a huge difference.

Boy was I wrong.

Last week we went back on the Abilify at a half dosage. I had a bit leftover from a previous refill. I wanted to try going back on it since we were having such a HORRID time of it lately. I wanted to see if it was a typical cycle of rotteness or if it was truly the lack of Abilify. Within 2 days we knew the verdict. He was back to "normal". He basically stopped the UGLINESS we had been seeing and reverted back to the normal ugliness that we are used to dealing with. He has stopped yelling and has not had to be restrained since we restarted it. I couldn't be more pleased.

Robert took him to the doctor last week and they are going to begin the process to get it approved. I am thankful for a doctor who is willing to do this. I am pleased that his behavior is changed a bit for the better. I know this means he is feeling a bit better in his own skin too.

Just like chemo can cure a person's cancer, psychotropic medications can be lifesavers.

Bathroom redo . . .

Wednesday afternoon I came home from work and walked toward the kitchen. I stopped in the dining room to talk to the hubby and I felt a "plunk" on my arm. I happened to be directly under our upstairs bathroom. We have had major issues with that bathroom over the years and have had to rip the ceiling out a couple times so now we have a panel up there covering the hole. I ran upstairs just to make sure the water had not been left on, but no such luck.

At this point there was just a small little drip forming on the panel, but I knew it was not good. I unscrewed the panel and it dumped a couple cups of water on the floor that had been storing up there. Oh no.

Thanks for the power of facebook, I had just found out that a friend was a plumber and has his own business. I messaged him and he said he would be out on Friday morning. I stuck a bucket under the drip and tried to forget about it. Since it was coming from a supply line it was pretty consistent, but it was not very heavy.

Here's where my OCD comes into play. I could not sleep. I kept thinking that the supply line would just let loose and flood the downstairs. So I laid in bed thinking of projects to do! When I was pregnant with Harrison we had some problems with that same bathroom. The floor around the toilet had rotted and had no DIY skills back then. I took a 3x3 foot piece of plywood and simply put it on the floor. I didn't cut out the bad stuff, I just went over the top of it. So there was a little step up to our toilet. It has bugged me for years, but I have never wanted to attempt fixing it. Until 5am on Thursday morning, then I could think of nothing else! (my mind is a scary place! LOL) When I get something in my head, it must be done and done NOW.

I decided that we (my husband loves me!) would take on this project Thursday after work. We would, remove the trim, remove the toilet, rip up the current floor, place the bad spot, re-vinyl the floor, and reset the toilet. Easy peasy! I figured if I screwed anything up I would have a plumber there the next morning to fix it for me.

I would've taken before pictures, but I just couldn't bring myself to show you the nastiness of my bathroom. This is bad enough. You must remember I live in a 120+ year old fixer upper.


This was after the trim and old floor was removed. I had already patched the floor (a huge piece of almost 2ftx3ft). I was about 1/2 way into the project at this point and just past the "What the heck was I thinking" part. I made a template of the entire floor with newspapers. I have neer done this, but I have seen it on HGTV (my old favorite show Decorating Cents) and filed it away in brain for future use. Note to self: next time don't skimp on the tape.


Then I took the template downstairs and laid out the vinyl remnant I got for half price (woot). I traced around my template with a marker and cut the vinyl with an exacto knife (scissors work too). I then took vinyl upstairs and simply laid it on the subfloor. I did have a cut some areas a bit more carefully upstairs, but all in all it only took about a half hour to install the vinyl. I love the no-glue Dupont vinyl they stock at lowes. This one was originally 11.28 a linear foot and the rolls are 12 foot long. Really inexpensive and super DIY friendly.



I had some white quarterround trim before, but I like it chunkier. I simply used 1x3's. I did not even miter them. I will caulk and paint them later. I need to refresh some wall paint in certain places too.


I still need to caulk around the tub, that lovely blue monster is my fabulous cast iron tub. It really needs resurfaced, but she is a beauty!

While I would love my bathroom to be perfect with awesome materials, that is not my life. For instance, that awful vanity really needs a home in the dump! I have realized that I can only do so much and I find ways to make do with what I have and what I can afford. In the end, I think it turned out fabulously!

On to the porch . . . the husband doesn't know it, but he's gonna help me paint . . .

Blow out . . .

Tonight was a bad night. I came home from work and immediately started mowing the grass before it rained. Dustin had to go get his every-two-weeks blood work and he was in a foul mood. Robert took him and he came home in a worse mood.

I came in from the yard work and took a quick shower, then began to work on dinner. Robert started the dishes and asked Dustin to dry them (which is ALWAYS his job) he refused. He refused. He just stood there staring at Robert. He calmly said, "Come on. Grab your towel and dry the dishes bud." I came out of the shower and he was standing there with his arms crossed and a foul look on his face. I said, "It's okay, I will dry them for you since you are grumpy." I thought he could use a break and adjust his attitude. He flipped the heck out!

He began kicking at me and trying to run from me. We have a 2/3 door in the kitchen and I pulled the lock closed. I asked him to take of his clothes, which typically stops him from running. He started flailing and kicking me. I had my hand on the waist band of his pants because he was trying to run out the back door. He was twisting and hurting fingers. I asked him to stop. He was out of control. He was hitting and trying to hurt me. Typically he doesn't really try to hurt me, he just flails. He ran to where Robert was and started hitting and kicking him. I was trying to get him in a hold and I couldn't really get a grip on him. I got him to the floor and got him into a bit of control. I asked him to go sit on the stool and settle down and he tried to hid between the wall and fridge still screaming at me. He ran into the laundry room and was throwing his sister's shoes at me. I stood my ground and gave him the "stink eye" and he stopped. He is still pretty afraid of me, so I think I still have the upper hand. He settled down after about a total of 15 minutes from start to finish.

The whole time he was yelling, "You hate me" and "You don't want me to live here" and the ever present "I should've said no!" (talking about when he said he wanted to be adopted to the judge) All this because I decided to dry the dishes for him because he didn't want to.

I have dealt with lots of fits and many, many restraints of the course of life with Dustin, but this one was U-G-L-Y. It kinda scared me. I could still handle him because although he is as tall as I am, he is scrawny and I am a big girl! I don't really recoil when he hits me (except when he slammed his elbow in my boob! OUCH! which I think was accidental) I have worked in daycare for 21 years and I have had my fair share of being spit at, kicked, hit, etc. But he was actually trying to inflict harm tonight and that is new.

I am tired, and my boob hurts! My back hurts and my hand hurts where it got twisted in his waistband. The sucky part is that within about 5 minutes he is fine. Once he is calm he thinks all is well. He holds no grudges. He thinks that once he is over it everyone else should be too and that is disconcerting. I hate it.

He wanted to hug me about 6 minutes after he was hurting me. I struggle with telling him no and explaining that people don't want to be around people who act like that and understanding that is how his very childish mind works. Do I hug him and reaffirm that I still love him no matter what, or do I say "later" and explain why? Thoughts?

Our miracle . . .

Harrison and my mom, his Nonnie.

We celebrated my baby boys NINTH birthday on Friday night with a trip to our local Japanese hibachi place. I was thrilled when he picked that particular restaurant because we hadn't been there for a while. I had had a rough day and it was perfect end to an otherwise craptastic day. He is a joy. He is our miracle child. I love my boy!

For those of you who don't know our story, I had tried to get pregnant for several years. The reason I have a son and a daughter today is due to an eye exam. You see, my husband went to get an eye exam since we had brand spankin' new insurance (which we had not had for many years). While there, the optometrist noticed a problem with his peripheral vision. She suggested we go see a neurologist. I thought she was crazy. A neurologist? We ignored her recommendation for several months. My husband began noticing that he really was struggling with his peripheral vision and thought we should schedule an appointment with an actual ophthalmologist. We did, and he said, "You need to see a neurologist right away. I think you may have a brain tumor."

We of course freaked out. It just so happens that ALL the neurologists in Fort Wayne are in the same group and they did not take our insurance. We scheduled an appointment in Kokomo (about an hour away) for the same week. He did some tests and said he thought that Robert had a tumor on his pituitary gland. An MRI confirmed it later that week.

The next week we were in Indianapolis meeting with a neuro-surgeon. It just so happened that he was the pioneer of the surgery for this particular problem that allowed them to remove the tumor without opening the skull. It was pretty amazing. Robert was his last patient. We had the man who pioneered the surgery AND his man who was taking over his practice as his doctors. We were blessed. The surgery was scheduled for the following week.

I remember standing in the doctor's office and telling him about our difficulty in getting pregnant. He said that since the pituitary gland regulates hormones it was likely that while Robert was creating "swimmers" they we probably not fertile. He said it that was our problem, I would be pregnant by Christmas. I was pregnant by August. The removed two tumors the size of walnuts off Robert's pituitary gland and he had a quick 4 week recovery.

It was a blessing that all this happened at the perfect time. We had new insurance which had awesome coverage. The surgery cost nearly $200,000 and we ended up paying $100 out of pocket. We were irritated with the neurologists in our city not being covered and we ended up with the best man in the country to perform the surgery. AND we got our babies out of the deal!

It matters to this one . . .

I have to force myself to stay away from the post I spoke about earlier in the week that was posted on Babble about it being okay to drink while pregnant. I want to rip my own head off my shoulders. But the most wonderful things happened this morning.

I receieved a comment on that post from a mother who also respectfully disagreed with the author. She is an adopted mother. Here is part of the comment she left for me. . .

I was actually directed to your blog from Monica's post. I love reading her blog but I must respectfully disagree with putting the word out for others that it is OK to drink during pregnancy. The reason I am here is that I have an adopted son whom I have always thought had problems related to his birth mother's extreme use of crack cocaine during the first trimester (she was incarcerated during the final months--thank God!)
...

Apologies for the length of this post. I appreciate the knowledge that I know this blog will provide. I have been looking for something like this for a long time. So, although Monica has lost a reader, you have gained one! Thank you and I look forward to becoming a regular reader.

Absolutely made my day! Welcome Sue!

Yearly IEP . . .

Yesterday I attended Dustin's yearly IEP meeting. I expected it to be fairly uneventful and for the most part it was.

There was one thing that disturbed me about the meeting. Dustin's para-professional ( his 1:1 aide) mentioned that she would like us to address the poking issue. Dustin tends to poke people when he wants their attention. He drives my mother nuts with it when he first sees her, but a couple firm redirections and it stops right away. He no longer pokes me because I don't allow it.

I turned to Dustin and addressed it. She said it was "real bad". I told her I knew what she meant and that he used to do that to me but I put a stop to it. She said, "How?" I wanted to say "Because I am the adult and I told him no in no uncertain terms to touch me like that." but I was kinder and told her I just put my foot down about it. Then she began to talk about all the ways he touches her. She said that he rubs her arm and her shoulder. She said he likes to put his arm around her when they walk down the hall and that he rests his head on her shoulder when he doesn't want to do work or when he is in trouble. She also told me that he tends to pet her shoulder when he is done eating and is waiting for the lunch hour to be over so much so that he gets food on her clothing everyday. This apparently has been going on for a LONG time and I was never made aware of it. The teacher had no idea how bad it was either.

I was appauled. I turned to Dustin and raised my voice giving him the business right there in the assistant principles office. I told him that under NO CIRCUMSTANCES is he to touch her again. I said, "She is not your friend, your mother or in your family. You are her job. She is your boss and you may not EVER touch her." She began back-peddaling saying she was his friend. I said, "I understnd you care about him, but you are not friends. He needs to treat you with the respect of an authority figure." I was fuming angry.

I am not in any way insinuating that she was being inappropriate. She was frustrated with the behavior as well. But OH MY GOODNESS allowing that behavior to continue for all this time is just unacceptable. We have had many conversations with the staff about attachment issues and getting "too close" to others outside of the family, and she didn't think telling me this was a good idea? For all these years?

Seriously. Should I even have to have this conversation?

All I know is it better stop. No hugs. No "petting" no touching her period. The kid has to have limits. Boundaries have not been set and it will be difficult to fix that, but it better be done.

Anyone else think that this could be part of the problem we are seeing at home with some attachment issues? Him not wanting to "live in this house" and him always saying, "I wish you didn't adopt me" are coming from something and I am wondering if it is partially from the attachment he feels with her. Ya think?

You must be joking . . .

Unfortunately she is not.
I was directed to a blog about a week ago by the lovely and talented Mamapundit and I have enjoyed reading Monica's posts. Today she posted an article for Babble in which she says drinking occasionally while pregnant is okay. The Girl Who has lost this reader forever! For all that is holy, spend one HOUR with my son and tell you you want to take that risk for your precious babies!

Her premise is you COULD drink a bit while pregnant and you COULD get a perfectly fine child. My premise is, you COULD stab yourself in your pregnant belly and your child COULD totally be fine, but why would you take that chance?

She says "Come give me The Business. Or save me from The Business I'm about to get from a lot of folks." I gave her the business. It was respectful too. (shocker I know!) Head on over and do so, of course if you have high blood pressure you may not want to read all the other commenters. I kinda threw up in my mouth a bit.

Just a thought. . .

Probably not something that is of supreme interest to others who read this blog, but I feel like venting here so I will.

While I think that what the special forces troops accomplished in finally finding Osama Bin Laden and while I think he is a horrid man and really needs to stand and answer for his crimes, I find it distasteful that we as a country are rejoicing in his death.

I got into a conversation on a friend's facebook page about this. She had posted a quote from Pope John Paul II who was recently beautified. It said, "Forgiveness is above all a personal choice, a decision of the heart to go against the natural instinct to pay back evil with evil."

This actually puts into words what I was thinking tonight. While I am pleased that this part of our history has been concluded, I find it a bitter pill that we are rejoicing in a death. It is not sitting well with me, even within myself. I have no problem celebrating our troops and their accomplishment. Something within me just gives my spirit a check that we are celebrating a death. But I suppose it is also why I am anti-death penalty.

I was asked "What is odd about celebrating the death of a man who wants to kill you ALL and your children???" And I answered, "The celebrating part." I am not celebrating. I'm not mourning, but I am not celebrating.

"We can no longer afford to worship the god of hate or bow before the altar of retaliation. The oceans of history are made turbulent by the ever-rising tides of hate. And history is cluttered with the wreckage of nations and individuals that pursued this self-defeating path of hate." ~Martin Luther King, Jr.

Just a thought, I welcome your opinions, they will be respected.

Avoidance . . .

When life gets hard I craft. I don't do anything in depth or fabulous, but I feel the need to create something. Life's been pretty rough and I needed a creative outlet today. I planted some more flowers, and got the garden planted after doing the entire front yard, the front bushes and the lawn of the vacant house next door last night.

We ran some errands tonight and Robert got a new mouse pad. He had been using a really crappy freebie from the National Guard that Dustin got when he was talked to by a recruiter from school. If you missed the rant that happened after that incident when my special needs child was told "He can aim good" you can find it here. I use my laptop on a cute little drop leaf end table I got out of someone's trash. I do not have a mousepad, I decided to give the old freebie a second life.
Here's the mousepad (you can tell it is thin, I am not certain a thicker one would work. I picked out a birdie fabric that I got in a fat quarter clearance pack.


I think that spray adhesive would work well, but I have a long history of bad luck with spray adhesive so I don't even have any on hand. I figured I would try to sew it on and see what happened. The presser feet fed the rubber backing through nicely.


Here was my first row. You can see I pinned the fabric at the edges.


I did 3 rows of stitches all the way around the edges and the fabric still moved around a bit in the middle so I did a row of stitches down and across the center. I then ran some fray check around the edges. I am not sure it was necessary, but I did it anyway.


There she is. Brand new mouse pad for Momma! (and an outlet for the crazies happening around here)

Ugly . . .

I need some help. Since we have been home from Florida, Dustin has this immediate ugliness that rears it's head when he is asked anything. I not even talking about a chore. It can be something as simple as "Hey Buddy! How was your day?" He responds with a nasty, spit out comment. He is grouchy all. the. time. I have no idea how to deal with it.

Perhaps it is because he is on a "short leash" due to the Great Underwear Incident of April 2011 . Perhaps it is the bedroom switcheroo. Perhaps it is the medication change where we dropped a seemingly unnecessary medication. Perhaps it is the addition to his "family" with the fake baby at school. All of these things happened recently, but I am fairly certain this was happening prior to all this.

I think it could be the let-down after a particularly good vacation where he was separated from his siblings each night while they were at grandma's. He got pretty much full attention and got to do things he really enjoys daily. I think he may be bucking the system of normal. Hey, if I could live at the beach everyday I would too! I think this combined with be a TEENAGER is really messing with his hormones and his attitude. School has been particularly bad recently as well.

Yesterday we decided that playing with his Nintendo keeps him occupied and happy so we would allow him the break he needed to play it and keep busy. I don't know what else to do right now. He has to re-set himself somehow and get back into his routine. Lord knows I cannot do this through the summer.

I have to get past this ugliness somehow.

Burning Desire . . .

I have a desire. Maybe lots . . .

A desire to sleep through the night without children's knees in my back.

A desire to not have to have my child 2 feet from me every moment he is home and awake.

A desire to sit down and enjoy a dinner without getting a new fork, another napkin, more drink, and without saying "Keep your hands out of your sister's ear please."

A desire to spend an evening at home without constant chatter.

A desire to sleep as late as I want and wake without people poking me in the forehead and asking me for food.

Just once.

:)

Choosing . . .

Obviously it has been a little rough around these parts lately. Last night Harrison had a meltdown at the book fair at daycare. It was ugly. He was tired because he did not sleep well Sunday night. McCartney was grouchy and angry. I took a step back and realized the stress in the house is affecting us all.

I need to be the adult and pull on by big girl panties. I HAVE to make this change. This morning was good. The kids all slept well and they were pretty pleasant. I changed my attitude this morning and things went much more smoothly.

I know that sometimes it's hard to live with kids like ours. I know it gets to us. We have to cut ourselves some slack, but the time comes when it is our job to change it up. Today was my time.

Will tonight be good? Who knows.

Will I do my darnedest to make it better by changing ME? Yes. Because we all know I can't change him.

I can only control myself.

The GOOD does come with the BAD and the UGLY . . .

I have been complaining a lot about Dustin and our life lately. I dawned on my this morning that I have not really been portraying him fairly. It is of course annoying to deal with these issues every day, but there are those positive times peppered in there as well.

Today is a gorgeous day. I got up early when I really wanted to sleep as long as possible. I took the littles to Lowes Build and Grow and found some lovely clearance annuals. I came home, planted them and power washed the front porch and siding. It has definitely lifted my mood having a springy, clean front porch.

While I was working, Dustin was fabulous. He is usually very good if given jobs constantly. As long as I can find something for him to do that he thinks is essential then he is happy. I can usually switch his mood by asking him to do something for me around the house even if it is picking something up off the floor. He helped me clear the porch and squeegie the windows, then we helped me put all the stuff back.

I am thankful for the GOOD today.

Oh hell no . . .

Dustin was very off today. He was irritated that there was no school due to Good Friday. He hates having his schedule messed up and he hates missing school even more. Both of those things made him very on edge and looking for a fight.

He irritated everyone around him today trying to get a rise out of them. For instance, after seeing one of those annoying Aflac commercials on TV, he must have said "Aflac" 300 times while we were all trying to concentrate on something. Ignoring did not work. He kept it up for about 10 minutes. It sucked. Trying to keep a child like this on a "short leash" is not fun. I have a wicked headache from all the issues today and I hurt my lower back trying to restrain him twice today. (I hurt my back a few months ago getting out of the car. You know you are old when you hurt your back getting out of a car.) Needless to say, we did not make it to the Good Friday church service this afternoon.

At one point, he ran into the other room (which is connected by a large arch) and said, "Moooomm. Commmmme ooonnnnn." and when I looked at him he was holding a bat in one hand and hitting it in the the other. It would've looked pretty threatening if you didn't know that it was a collapsible, plastic bat and that he couldn't hit the side of a barn with a missile. He did take a swing at McCartney, but she just tried to grab it out of his hands. He went running into the kitchen, still holding the bat yelling, "Help me Mom! She's gonna hurt me!" I had to hear about how he "doesn't want to live here", that he wished he was "never adopted", and he wants to go to "kid jail" for about 30 minutes while I fixed dinner. The whole thing was ridiculous.

He got his pills early, maybe he just needs a good night's sleep.

Shut up.

I can hope can't I??

No news is good news . . .

Nothing much to share here. Dustin has had a med change. Last week we had some issues with his state sponsored insurance all of the sudden not covering his very important anti-psychotic because he was on 2 anti-psychotics. The p-doc decided to take him off the Abilify to see if it is really necessary. I personally don't think it is so I was okay with that plan. Oddly enough he has been pretty darn good for the last 4 days. He is much more calm and less angry. I don't yet know if it is a fluke or it really is a good med change. We shall see . . .

The bedroom switch-up has gone well. Dustin is actually sleeping quite well and for longer periods of time. I think it was a good move. I know it has been better for everyone else involved, so I hope it holds out.

The biggest thing that has made an impact in or life lately is the security system. Ours is very similar to the one sold here. We ordered ours from Home Depot on-line as well. The best thing about it is that it rings at the base unit when the door is opened, not at the alarm sensor so we can take the unit downstairs and still hear when it goes off. The other plus is that it continues to go off once activated even if he re-shuts the door. He cannot fool us and he knows it. With the First Alert door sensors, the alarm goes off when the door is opened, but stops when the door is shut. He learned that he could open the door fast and the alarm would ring for a short period of time and if we did not wake up, he was home free! Also, this new system is activated and deactivated at the unit, not the sensor, so he is unable to turn it off. And trust me, it will wake the dead! I am a very hard sleeper and can sleep through anything and this thing wakes me up every time! I have a hard time entering the code to silence it because I am half asleep though!

Other than keeping Dustin right near us. things are pretty back to normal since the Great Underwear Incident of April 2011 . School has been having more difficulties and I received an email today telling me he was currently in ISS for spitting on another child. I have always said that our kids are only able to hold it together one place a day. Most times I would rather he hold it together at school and be a handful at home, but I need a break, so I am okay with school dealing with some crappy stuff lately! :) Their "Crappy stuff" usually pales in comparison to ours anyway, so I don't feel so guilty. ( I think this may be because I "outed" him to the school about the running. He was mortified to learn that I told his teachers about the incident and asked them to keep an eye out for any running behavior because he threatened he would run at school.)

The littles are doing okay. Harrison is doing great in school and it gearing up for the second half of standardized testing this next week. McCartney is struggling with coming back from a wonderfully hot Florida to a not so hot Indiana. She is mourning losing her sandals and sundress and has yet to lovingly embrace the winter coat. Hopefully it will start warming up around these parts next week, but I think we will still be battling the tank tops each morning for awhile.

Medication & Healing . . .

While I would agree that far too many Americans are on medications for mental health issues I think that, as one of those "using" I am thankful for them.

There are a couple different issues here. Let's talk about kids like Dustin. Dustin's issues go beyond "traumatized kid". They are stemming from organic brain damage caused in-utero by alcohol consumed by his mother. We are also dealing with mental illness that has been passed through his birth family. Schizophrenia is nothing to scoff at. Both his Fetal Alcohol Syndrome and his Schizophrenia make him a danger to himself or those around him when un-medicated. It is fairly safe to say that people would not argue with giving psychotropic meds to a child like this. That's not to say that we do not have to be careful and walk a fine line between safe amounts of medication and drooling, overmedicated zombie. Dustin in particular is VERY VERY sensitive to med changes and dosages. He suffers from a particularly dangerous reaction to higher doses of theses meds calle EPS. It can be life threatening and is NOT fun to witness and sometimes hard for professionals to diagnose.

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.

The other issue is kids like my youngest son Harrison. Harrison is 8 years old and 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. When he was a kindergartner, he really started struggling with keeping his body still at school. He didn't look at you when you were talking, yet he could tell you everything you said. He was full of energy and was ALWAYS moving. I chalked most of it up to immaturity, because he was young for his grade and he had always been a little extra emotional. He started getting frustrated about not being successful in the social and behavioral aspect of school. He began getting very emotional about it. We started him on meds for ADHD. It made him a wonderful student in ALL ways. It has given him his self esteem back. It has been a blessing. Could he have lived without this medication? Sure. But he would not be the happy kid that he is now. He would not have the friends or the self confidence he does now. He would be "that" kid in the classroom. We have him on a fairly low dose and I do not think it is effecting him negatively. I think of it as giving him tools to be productive and the ability to restrain himself. Perhaps he can learn this on his own later after he masters how to calm his own body down, perhaps not.

Then we have the issue of my medication. My OCD went undiagnosed until I was 28 and married. I am so very thankful for the meds that helped me get that part of my personality under control and allow me to live my life to the fullest. I could survive with and OCD diagnosis and not have medication, but I would not be "free" to have the life I have now. I would be a slave to the compulsions and the obsessions.

I know that not all meds prescribed by doctor's are necessary, but wow, who am I to judge whether or not a drug could be helpful to someone. Would anyone ever begrudge a diabetic their insulin? Or a heart patient their blood thinner? It would be a no brainer. That medication is needed for them to live! Why are psychotropic drugs looked at as options by so many people instead of necessities?

And don't even get me started on people who say things like, "If your depressed, don't count on medication to help you, you just need to rest in God." Please! I have no issue with the power of prayer, but when we are dealing with a chemical imbalance, medication can help. Most of those people would never say to a cancer patient, "If you have cancer, don't do chemo, you just need to pray more."

Life is hard. Our world moves faster and faster each year. We strive to be better people, to make more money, to provide for our children. We struggle to keep up the pace and to not get weary. Marriage is difficult. So many of us are raising kids with issues. Our lives are spinning out of control in our fast paced world. In my opinion, it is okay to acknowledge our faults and our issues and treat them just as we would an illness. I don't see the harm in that.

Perhaps it is because I have lived it. I can see the danger or not medicating children with difficult issues. I have lived as that child trapped inside my own struggles with OCD and am now living virtually free of those chains as an adult. I have seen both sides. I can see the benefit and, gosh darn it, if I can help my child live a better life I will!

Let me fill you in quickly on my beliefs. I believe that Jesus is the son of God. I believe that he was crucified and rose again to save me. I believe that it is my responsibility as a Christian to follow his teachings. I believe that I am not infallible. I sin daily. I ask for forgiveness when mistakes are made and try the next day to do better. I believe God is a God of healing. I believe I will go to heaven when I die. That's it in a nutshell.

In addition to that I believe God is a God of peace. I believe he tells us to love others. I believe we are supposed to show people love and understanding and have tolerance. I believe that people have free will and while I may not agree with their decisions, I cannot judge them for making them. I believe that they will not consider my view on things if I choose intolerance. It is my job to be the hands and feet of Jesus on Earth with kindness, charity, benevolence and love being of supreme importance. I also believe that God knows what is best for me. I believe that things are done in His timing and because He knows the big picture, it's always best. I believe it's not my job to question that.

All that being said, I would love for Dustin to be healed. I have no idea if that is in the cards or not, but I don't pray for that. He was born with organic brain damage. I don't look at him like he is ill. I see him for who he is and who God allowed him to be. I accept him and his disability. Do I pray that he will get better, yes! But I never have prayed that the FAS goes away in the same way I have never prayed that Harrison's ADD goes away. Could God do that? I believe he could. Does that mean I don't have faith that he will do it for Dustin? I don't think so. God doesn't need me to heal him if he wishes.

I have faith that our life will get easier. I have faith that things will work out. I have faith that while I continue to trust daily in God that life will go easier than if I didn't. I rely on therapy, medication, kind thoughtful doctors, and lots and lots of patience. I pray for guidance and direction. I pray for peaceful spirits and a hedge of protection around my family.

Does that make me less of a Christian. I don't think so. I think God gives us things like therapy and medication to facilitate what he has for us. I think refusing psychiatric medication, chucking away therapy and simply relying on God to fix things is just as dangerous as those religious zealots who refuse medical treatment for illnesses.

Switch-a-roo . . .

I spent Saturday evening switching bedrooms. I am not sure yet if it was good idea. We tried to make a bedroom change a while back and it backfired, but so far this one is going well. Dustin moved to Harrison's room. Due to major anxiety, Dustin's psychologist suggested years ago that we create a corner for him in our bedroom. It was a god-send at the time. It was the only time in the many years that we had Dustin that he actually began sleeping thorugh out the night. Prior to that he would roam the house and get into numerous things. Once, I found him playing with matched in the living room. Scary.

We mixed things up a bit at home and now he is in his own room. With the new alarm system we have, we are immediately aware if he leaves his room. He is absolutely unable to fool his alarm system unlike others we have had in the past. He knows it. He hates it. But it works. He stays put because he knows he cannot get out without us knowing.

I am not sure if this is a good thing or I will be coming back here next week saying we failed and I spent another 8 hours moving rooms back like they were. The only way I would know is if I tried. Pray it works, it is a much better configuration.

This weekend went okay. He is never more than 2 feet away from an adult at all times. It is tiring, but oddly enough he was well behaved. He really didn't have too much of an attitude and he was mostly pleasant. It is as though he knows he has boundaries and he is comfortable in giving someone else the ability to control his actions. Subconsciously I think it makes him rest.

I took all three kids to church yesterday myself so Robert could rest. Lord have mercy! Our service is one hour. I am fairly certain Dustin asked me to go to the bathroom 1317 times! I just kept giving him the "mom eye" and lo and behold after church was over the urge passed. We met the entire family at a local Ice Cream Shop last night and one of the younger cousins who is a friend of mine on facebook said, "Dustin, glad to see you put some clothes on for us!" referencing the Great Underwear Incident of April 2011. Dustin was mortified. I think it was good for him to understand that people know what happens when you run out, acting the fool, in your drawers. He looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders and said, "This one is on you bud. Perhaps you shouldn't run out where people can see you." He was awfully quiet while we were there.

Will it change the behavior next time? Probably not, but it was nice to see some realization on his face.

Alexander's got nothin' on me . . .

Today was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Well, afternoon.

I got a call from Robert just before I was leaving work. He had taken Dustin and McCartney to the doctor. I had Harrison with me at daycare. He told me he and McCartney had been following Dustin on foot for nearly an hour. Dustin had ran out of the house.

In. His. Underwear.

Yes. I said that.

He was wearing a shell necklace from Florida, navy underwear and white crew socks.

He is 16 and nearly 5'8" tall. He is handsome and looks completely "normal".

Obviously he is not.

I told Robert to call the police, he had not yet called. Dustin was being very difficult and he was afraid they would take him to juvenile detention or to the local psych hospital or the children's home that deals with difficult behavioral needs. Any of these places would not meet any of Dustin's needs (since he is moderately mentally handicapped) and is wholly inappropriate for him. He has major abandonment issues and has been sexually molested in the past. Not a good combo for "juvy".

I drove home worrying about whether he was okay or not. I got a call from Robert telling me he called 911 and that the police were already chasing him having received phone calls from other people. (Robert: my son is running away . . . 911: Is he in navy underwear and white socks, sir? . . . Robert: Yep, that'd be him.) Dustin was running from the officer who had abandoned his car and was throwing rocks and sticks at the officer. The officer was having a difficult time chasing him. The officer kept loosing sight of him as he ran through alleys and houses. To make things worse, this officer is new to our circumstances. We have a few core guys who have been here many times and are well aware of Dustin's complicated issues. This gentleman was not and he was less than thrilled. We have a trail system in our city that goes along the rivers and runs right through our neighborhood. Dustin was running along the trail that is on a hill about 25 feet above the street. The officer was being trailed by kids on bikes that were asking "What's wrong with that kid? Is he psycho?". Robert and McCartney were behind them by about a block. Finally the officer got to him, grabbed his arm and tackled him. It took him almost 30 minutes to get him.

Robert called me as I was only about 3 blocks away. When I got there, Dustin was sitting on the ground with his hands in his head. He was covered in dirt and was yelling, "I wanna go to jail!" along with the ever popular "I don't wanna live with you. You all hate me!"

Warms a mother's heart.

I trudged up the hill and spoke with the officer with Robert. He took a report and told us that if he ever hit anyone or was aggressive they could take him and book him and have him spend a night in juvy. Another officer came up from a car and was one of the "regulars". He gave Dustin a talking to and reminded him that officers who do not know him could very well pull a gun on him if he acts like that again. It was a good talk.

Will it matter?

Probably not.

I took him home and Robert and the littles walked the 3 blocks home. He is fine acting like nothing ever happened. He is on a 2 foot perimeter. He is not to leave an adult and go farther than 2 feet from us. He is unable to go ANYWHERE including the bathroom alone. Whenever we go near a door, we position ourselves between him and the door. I do not know how long this will last, but it is a necessity right now.

Sometimes I hate my life.



My life is never boring.

Realization . . .

Dustin has started this thing. When I ask him to do something he just looks at me with his mouth hanging open. It makes me crazy. (I have been saying that a LOT lately) This happens even if it is something he wants to do, like "Dustin come eat dinner."

I have decided it is his only way of controlling the situation. He is playing me.

I ask. He stares. I ask again. He stares. I threaten. He does it. I am no longer doing that, that is simply letting him have more attention and he is "winning". Now, I am simply looking back at him and waiting. I told myself I would give him 30 seconds. Usually he will comply within a few seconds since he has figured out that I will not respond again.

Last night I asked him to turn of a light. He just stared at me slack-jawed. I waited and silently counted to 30. After 30 he was still staring me down and I got up, walked over to him and took his hand. I walked him to the light switch and used his hand to turn off the light. I then walked him back to the seat he was on and sat him down. No words, no pulling, no arguing. He was bewildered.

I win.

I did refrain from siticking my tongue out!

ARGH! . . .

I hate insurance companies. You know the med my child has been on for YEARS that allow the "people" in his head to remain hidden? They will nto authorize it today. You know, the med we only get enough for the exact amount of days until bloodwork is done? That one? They will pay for the bloodwork that is necessary every two weeks, but not the med. Really?? Seriously??

We rarely have trouble with our state sponsored medical care, so this one throws me for a loop.

I think I will drop him off at their office and they can live with the possibly dangerous and delusional child who's "friends" tell him to do stuff to other people. I betcha they would authorize it then!

Gravy . . .

Last night was awful. Dustin was difficult, non compliant and a pain in the arse. If you read the prior post you recognize that he was willfully disobedient. He continued to say things like "I am not a child! I am an adult!" He was still obsessed over the flour baby. Constantly worried whether she was being cared for at her partner's house. Worried something would happen to her. It was tiring and crazy-making.

I lost it at bedtime with the hubby. I felt like I had been pelted with bee-bees all night and poked with toothpicks and I was IRRITATED. Poor hubby took the brunt of it. Thankfully he gets it and it will be my turn soon enough. . .

This morning I had a glint of what was actually going on. When I asked him to get back in bed so the kids could finish getting ready and he could be out of their way, he shouted, "I am an adult! I can get up when I want!" I said, "No you are not." He replied, "Ms M says I am a father now! I am an adult!"

It clicked.

His paraprofessional has been "selling" this baby thing. She has been pretending it is real. She is telling him he is a father and he has to care for the baby. Holy Lord! This is a concrete thinker. This child now believes he is an adult and is obsessed over this sack of flour. It is not working. He swears this is real. I cannot fathom the thought process and how this seems okay.

I am beyond frustrated. I understand most kids would be fine with this, but he is not. I understand the process and I think it is a positive thing, but not for kids like Dustin. We are making these special needs kids, kids with low IQs, obsessed with caring for babies. These are flour sacks, they are easy to care for. All you have to do is keep them dry and not drop them . . . their FLOUR for goodness sake! They don't cry, they don't need food, they don't need changed. Are we sending the wrong message? Kids with the mentally capacity of 4 and the hormones of a 16 year old. Well able to make a baby, but babies cannot be tossed on the bed and pretend fed once a night.

And babies CANNOT make gravy!

I still have some humor left in me!

Seriously . . .

The last hour in my house has been horrid. The littles are sleeping. I am in my PJs. I made my rocking Chicken and Dumplings tonight. The dishes are done from dinner. We are watching DVR programs that were recorded while we were on our wonderful vacation.

So why has it been horrid?

Dustin is sitting in the chair across from my spot on the couch. He is driving me nuts!

D: "Mom, can I have a snack?"
M: "You just ate. No more tonight."
D: slapping his hands on the chair arms in a crazy rhythm.
M: "Please stop. You know that bothers me."
D: looks directly in my eyes and does it twice more.
M: staring at him
D: "Sorry Mom" followed immediately by hitting his heels on the floor in the same rhythm.
M: staring
D: "Sorry, I'll stop."
M: looking away at the TV
D:patting his chest for the dog to come to him (he is not allowed to have the animals)
M: "I hear you"
D: "What?? I didn't do anything" begins staring at me and still patting for the dog
M: "Seriously?"
D: "I'm hungry and you won't let me eat!"
M: ignoring
D: "You hate me!" begins playing rhythm on the chair louder and harder
M: "Nope, don't like your behavior."
D: 30 seconds pass. "Mom I love you. You're the best mom ever"
M: "I love you too. Please stop being difficult"
D: Staring in my face and banging his head on the back of the chair.
M: ignoring
D: Making fart noises while smacking his elbows.
M: ignoring
D: "Why won't you let me eat??"

This was rapid fire. This is the reason I nearly lose my cool every now and then. I can hardly take it! ARGHHHHHHHH!!

Okay, I feel better now! :)

Oil . . .

Lord have mercy! I wrote a bit ago about Dustin doing a project in school about taking care of babies. That in itself is dangerous territory for a concrete thinking, low IQ, FAS child who was abused. Trudging up feelings of abuse, abandonment, and all that by taking care of a "fake" infant is not my idea of a fun day!

His class is a classroom of Moderately Mentally Handicapped kids. They vary in abilities. Some of them are pretty darn close to acting like typical 16 year olds, they just have lower IQs. Dustin is of course on the other spectrum and acts like a 4 year old most of the time. They wanted to do a unit on caring for babies. I knew it was a bad plan for Dustin the minute I heard it. I thought it would be quick and we could brush it off. I had no idea they would be making flour sack babies and partner up to take care of their young'ins.

Last time I mentioned this I told you his baby was named "Oil". Swear. to. goodness. When I asked him about it he said it was named after the baby in Popeye. It took me a while to realize he meant Olive Oil and then I reminded him the baby was named "SweePea". He said, "oh, yeah." Robert and I have been quietly referring to the baby as "Gravy" (get it, oil and flour make gravy?!) It cracks me up, and sometimes laughter is by far the best medicine.

Anyway, Gravy Oil came home yesterday for Dustin's turn at caring for her. It was not pretty.

Let me back up. Dustin has issues with believing things are real that are not. He also has issues caring for things that he feels needs protected. A few examples: we once got him one of the Fur-real pets. The ones that you feed and they make noise and you have to put them to sleep. I thought it might help him with the nurturing issues. I was so very wrong! He became absolutely OBSESSED. The thing was ALIVE in his mind. He had to protect it constantly. He was always fretting about whether it was hungry, sleepy or needed him. He was a momma bear. That lasted all of 3 days until I could take no more. I put it in the attic. He kept trying to get in the attic, it was ugly! When he was really off-kilter and stressed he would always pretend he was a momma dinosaur who was protecting her eggs. He would "spit venom" at people who came near him. He would actually spit on people and lash out at them with his "talons" scratching anyone who walked by him. This one went on for well over a year.


So Oil? Not such a good idea. My other fear is that he is schizophrenic and I worry that when he begins talking to things that are not alive and pretending they are I think he can kind of slip into a psychotic state. I can see it. You can see it in his eyes. He kind of leaves reality. I really is frightening. Not frightening in the sense that he would hurt us, but frightening in the sense that he is not really "here" with us.

So Oil came home. Robert was wise and told him she needed to stay in our bedroom. He would run upstairs and feed her and burp her. I tried to keep him occupied so he would forget about her. As soon the kids fell asleep he began obsessing over bringing her down and being near her. I told him no firmly and he started yelling at me that she would die without being fed. I told him in no uncertain terms that a flour sack would be fine without fake formula. HE began to argue that I he was going to tell his teacher on me. He started to freak out that his baby needed a car seat for the bus and demanded I go buy one right then. Lord have mercy! Bedtime could not come soon enough.

This morning McCartney came into my room and Dustin began screaming. At first he was obsessed with always being near the baby. Then he began hollering at the littles about being near her. They couldn't even look in her direction without being screamed at. He would say things like "I am keeping her safe" and "You are not allowed to hurt her, she's mine". It was ugly. He kept talking to the baby and telling her "I will keep you safe. You are okay with me." It was a bit creepy.

The bus could not come soon enough and Dustin and Oil were out the door. (without a carseat! Gasp!) I sent an email off to his teacher. I understand if he has to do this project, but the baby will be put away when it is home. I wanted to let him know that if Dustin says I wouldn't let him do anything that there was a very good reason.

I am too young to be a grandma!

Lemon Cream Pasta with Capers . . .

Pasta With Lemon Cream and Capers

4 servings

PASTA

1 tablespoon table salt

2 1/2 cups penne pasta, uncooked

1 teaspoon canola oil

LEMON CREAM SAUCE

2 tablespoons butter

1 tablespoon all-purpose flour

1 cup heavy cream

3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1 tablespoon chicken base (see note)

1 1/2 teaspoons grated lemon zest

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

1/8 teaspoon ground black pepper

2 tablespoons capers

For the pasta: In a pot, bring 6 cups water and 1 tablespoon salt to a full boil. Add pasta and cook for about 10 minutes, until al dente. Immediately drain pasta and cool in cold water. Drain water completely. Coat pasta with canola oil to prevent sticking.

For the Lemon Cream Sauce: In a stock pot, make a roux by melting the butter and stirring in the flour. Cook for 5 minutes on medium heat, stirring often to prevent burning.

To the stock pot, add the heavy cream, lemon juice, chicken base, lemon zest, kosher salt and black pepper. Whisk or blend to dissolve the roux. Heat to 200 degrees and simmer 15 minutes, or until thickened. Stir often to prevent burning.

Combine cooked penne with Lemon Cream Sauce and capers. Eat way too much!!!

(Adapted from Souplantation)

cross posted at Supper Slackers Therapy, my highly neglected recipe blog.

Three in two . . .

I just got off the phone with a mom I have never met face to face. She has a little one that has been diagnosed with FAS. This is ALL NEW territory for her. She needed someone to talk to who gets it. Someone who lives it. It was a joy talking to her.

This is the third mom that I have spoken to in two weeks time that needed a connection. This is a hard life!

She needed to here that we are not alone.

It is amazing how similar her child is to mine. He is a little guy. He is showing the same behaviors that Dustin did when he came to our home. After we talked for a bit, she said, "We have a long road ahead of us don't we." I said, "Yes. Yes you do." That is a sad thing. But us Trauma Momma's have one another as long as we use each other as a resource we will get through. I tried to share some strategies and some ideas with her. I explained that what works today may not work tomorrow.

We also talked a bit about how our perceptions of others has changed. It is amazing that once you live with a child that has a hidden disability how you change that judgmental attitude that you may have had for other parents in the past.

What advice would you have for a mom that recently got the FAS diagnosis?

Home, home with the rage . . .

We returned home on Sunday morning. It was a pretty good drive and we made great time, getting home in about 19 hours. Once again we avoided Georgia and for most of the night we were the only car on the road for miles.

As soon as we got home the fireworks started with Dustin. I began to hear the old choruses of "I don't want to live here." "Everyone here hates me." and "I need some fresh air" the last being code for I am going to run from the house. I have no idea why he felt like he did. He wasn't in trouble. He wasn't truly misbehaving that much. I suppose it is just something he does when he is here. I cannot figure it out.

I wanted to chat with him. Most of the time I get the same answer . . . "I don't know" which is both an avoidance AND mostly the truth. He truly has no idea why he does things or how he feels most of the time. But there are times when I get lucky and he is either lucid enough to give a good answer that gives me some insight into what he is thinking and how his mind works. This time I tried, I really did. I began asking him about Florida and how he behaved there. He did not scream once. He did not throw fits. He was fairly compliant. I reminded him of all these things. When I said, "You know, you can act like that here too." He began banging his head into the back of the chair and screaming, "Don't hurt me!" Holy Lord. he was completely off his rocker. I calmly talked to him about the windows being open this beautiful spring day and to knock it off. We chatted, but I got no real answers. He continued to throw things at the animals, holler and throw fits the remainder of the night. He annoyed his brother and sister and did everything he could to bother everyone in the house.

That is no joke. I got no real answers. I don't know why he does this. I don't know how his brain works. I love to be home after a wonderful vacation. I love to sleep in my own bed and love on my animals. I love to have things put in their place and get back into a routine. I really don't love seeing these behaviors again. I had no real ambition that they would be gone forever, but I really didn't miss them at all!

FAS in paradise . . .

I have been talking a lot about Dustin doing well this vacation. I want to clarify what "well" means. To us, anything that does not require a physical restraint (a hold) or drives me so insane that I want to jump off the nearest bridge as "well". He is still non-complaint to the extent that parents with "typical" kids would be over their limit. He is still impulsive to the extent that if he thinks about doing something he is doing it before he is able to process the consequences of the actions (If he is even able to see the consequences, which is next to never). He is still overly obsessed with "fishing" to the point of wielding 2 nets in the water and walking up the shore and down the shore talking to himself about catching fish (I call him the "net ninja"). He is still talking CONSTANTLY to the point of wanting to poke your own ears out with a stick. He is still indecisive too the point of wanting to toss him over the drawbridge at John's Pass.

All of those things are something that we deal with on a daily basis. They are minimal in comparison to the wango-tango that we could be dealing with away from home. He is not running. He is not too obsessed with food and he is not melting down. He will likely save all that for home and this next week will be our punishment for all the fun things we did this week. But I will be more prepared to deal with that in my own element at home!

My least favorite behavior that I have dealt with this week is the nagging. It begins the second we get up in the morning when he starts in about going to grandma's. As soon as we get to grandma's he is nagging about leaving for the beach. We are not at the beach more than 20 minutes when he begins to nag about going back to the condo's pool. As soon as the pool time is over he begins to nag about dinner and hunting for lizards. Oh. My. Word. I can barely stand it. I ignore it for as long as I can then I blow my top and tell him to HUSH. He usually walks away from me grumbling about me.

All in all I couldn't have asked for a better vacation. This is the best we we have had so far. I think I owe that to the littles being able to sleep at Grandma's (nannie's) condo and him having some one on one down time. I am so very grateful.