tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-166557032024-03-07T15:16:47.965-08:00Ain't That Sherific?Not quite as "quippy" as my husband, but I figured "Hey, everybody else is doing it" and "Yes, mom, I would jump off a bridge. . . "Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.comBlogger1047125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-25068796353677238402014-04-14T10:52:00.001-07:002014-04-14T10:52:58.923-07:00They Just Don't Get It . . . I have decided to take my son out of school at the end of this year. For years I was intent on the fact that he would be in school as long as they allowed. Since he is in the moderately handicapped program with Functional Behavior curriculum, he can attend until he is 22 years old. When he transitioned this year from the local high school program to the Adult Transitions Program I had high hopes that this program would be beneficial for him and meet his needs. <br />
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Boy, was I wrong. <br />
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My son has had a 1:1 paraprofessional since the end of 7th grade. While she has been helpful at providing that external control that his brain is lacking due to his Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, she has not done good things as far as his attachment resistance. Not fully understanding the boundaries we needed to keep in order for him to continue with healthy attachment with us, she really did clog up the works. I gently nudged and offered suggestions. When things were blatantly I problem I corrected them, but things were never perfect. Not wanting to upset the apple cart, I didn't want to cause a stink and ask for a different staff member. I figured the flawed one that worked well with him was the lesser evil than one that could be worse. <br />
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This year, for several reasons, that came crashing down. <br />
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Boundaries have been crossed.<br />
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I think that part of the problem is that the program itself is meant to make these students more independent and more self sufficient. My son needs CONSTANT supervision. While he is able to accomplish some independent tasks, he still needs supervision. Daily reminders like "You are an adult now ...." and "When you are living alone ....." have served to amp up his already anxious and defiant behavior. What he is being told at school and his reality are causing him confusion and anger. No matter how many times I have this discussion with those in charge, things are not changing. It is frustrating. <br />
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It is equally frustrating for them I am sure. He displays a completely different set of behaviors at school and on his job site than he does at home. He is able to function semi independently, but once again he is continually supervised. The minute he knows he is not being watched, he makes foolish choices dues to the dangerous cocktail of lack of object permanence, impulse control and just plain trauma. There he is the center of attention and doesn't have to compete with others. They have no concept of the child who is typically the one we see at home and unfortunately I don't think they believe what I tell them.<br />
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They don't believe what I tell them. <br />
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Let's let that sink in a bit. I am well aware that no one can truly understand this life unless you live it, even those who are tasked to deal with our children at school for many hours a day. But PLEASE for the love of all that is holy, listen to what a parent says to you and don't question it when they say it is HARD. You are simply adding to the load when you give me that look of disbelief. I am not exaggerating he really did eat 14 bananas in one sitting and all the peels ARE behind his dresser at home I promise!! I do find blocks of cheese hidden in his pants to take upstairs later and he truly did try to put the cat in the backpack to play with him later. Why would I make that up!? I don't find it humorous, I am certainly not bragging. I would absolutely choose BORING over my life any day!<br />
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So today when I had a small discussion about pulling my child from school to put him in a day program that "gets" him and works with the parents as a TEAM and will strengthen our rules and expectations at home the teacher was not altogether positive. I was chastised a bit for not meeting with Voc-Rehab about finding him a job. A job is simply not in his future. Perhaps the workshop at the day program will be a good fit for him to make some money in the future, but a job working in the "real world" even with job coaching will not ever work unless he has 24/7 supervision and that is not available. When the teacher mentioned accessing his own transportation independently I laughed. It was not kind, but I said "You really have no idea what my child is really like. You are completely clueless." And the conversation was over. How can you support parents when you refuse to see the forest directly in front of you. If you are focusing on the cute little sapling and not seeing the giant redwoods in the near vicinity you are worthless in my world and my child's. We have larger issues at hand.<br />
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Thankfully we have a wonderful team behind us. His day program has his number and he does well there. His behavioral consultant is a gem and understands him well. Our case manager is responsive and kind. I think we are on a good path. School is about to become a thing of the past!<br />
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<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-76287087542281659242014-04-08T09:55:00.000-07:002014-04-08T10:03:45.446-07:00The day the interwebs restored my hope in humanity . . . Saturday night we had a bit of a fire at our house. Our coffee table caught on fire from a candle. It was caught in time and we got very lucky. When my husband came downstairs the flames were about 4 foot high. The couch & the rug were scorched and all the stuff on the table was ruined. That included my beloved camera and a brand new lens. I was not home and when my husband called me to break the news I was of course very relieved everyone was safe but so very sad about my camera.<br />
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Then the panic set in. That camera is slowly becoming a new source of income for us. I recently participated in a wedding fair and I have MANY weddings booked this season as well as my typical sessions with families and children. I also recently became involved with <a href="http://www.nationalrockreview.com/">National Rock Review</a> and I am shooting shows for them as well. I NEED my camera!<br />
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We do, of course, have homeowners insurance but there is a hefty deductible. With my husband's illness, it would be a hardship to come up with $1000 for the deductible but was totally necessary considering the situation. Had it been anything but the camera we would've likely done without. I would happily sit on the floor or in lawn chairs, but I needed that dang camera! I spent most of Sunday in tears. The camera was sitting on the dining room table and every time I would walk by it I would start again. It was just so terribly sad to see it there all melty and burnt. <br />
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One of my dear momma's from <a href="http://www.momsfindhealing.com/">BeTA - Beyond Trauma and Attachment</a> took it upon herself to set up a <a href="http://www.gofundme.com/84ip24">"Go Fund Me" account for me</a> to try to help come up with the deductible. It was late Sunday night when it went up and by the morning we were already at 20%. Then miracles began to happen! <br />
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To be completely honest I was a bit overwhelmed that people were giving me money. I felt a HUGE sense of thankfulness, but also a bit of shame that I would be in this position. I had several friends throughout the day encourage me that they wanted to help and that I should not feel that way at all. I was told over and over that I had given so much to others and that I should sit back and accept this. I began getting notifications on Facebook that we were climbing to 40%, then 50% then more. By 2:00pm Monday were we fully funded and money was still coming in. The link to the Go Fund Me had been shared over a hundred times and people that I did not even know were contributing. It was AMAZING. <br />
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Through out the afternoon I continued to get wonderfully kind messages from friends telling me that they were happy to help and pleased they could contribute. By the time I went to bed last night it was 140% funded and I had changed my profile picture to that melty camera. It went from a photo of something that was AWFUL to a photo of HOPE. It went from a sight that made me cry to a BEACON of all that is GOOD in my world. I no longer see it is UGLY. I have an amazing support system and I am reminded that given the chance people are GOOD. My loved ones and STRANGERS did something together that affected me so profoundly I will not be the same. <br />
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I could never express my gratitude. <br />
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I will pay this forward when I am able. <br />
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I will forever be touched by the kindness shown to me and my family.<br />
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I have decided that this fire will be the turning point in my year. I will not let the ugliness of "what if" affect me but revel in the fact that things were not so much worse. I will see this as a CLEANSING fire and I will rise from it stronger, more determined and much more able to feel loved. I am not alone.<br />
<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-19738726860011920682014-03-18T08:16:00.000-07:002014-03-18T08:16:20.252-07:00For this moment . . . Do you ever have that epiphany that all the stuff leading up to this moment in time had a specific purpose? That is where I am in my life right now. The last few years have been such a time of growth and learning. I am a different person. I am a better person. And it is evident that it has all been leading me to this place.<br />
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I can easily look back at my life and see significant changes. I can see the me from high school. I was quiet and had very little self esteem. My freshman year in college I became close to a previous acquaintance, Angie, and she taught me to love myself regardless of what others thought. She taught me that I was valuable not for how others saw me, but for what was inside. I was changed. I grew into a person who was confident and clear on my goals. It was probably the first time that I was changed to much by one person touching my life. She helped put me on a path that forged the adult I would come to be. <br />
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As I look back on the last few years I can see numerous things that lay in he road of my past that have formed me and prepared me for the obstacles that lay ahead. I am thankful for each of those growth experiences even if they were hard to overcome. If I had not learned the lessons and applied them to my life, my road today would be much harder.<br />
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Breaking my leg in several places a few years ago was a turning point in my marriage. What?! Yes. It changed my marriage. I was laid up on bed rest for several weeks. I was reliant on my husband and kids to do everything for me. From someone who is "take-charge" and a control freak that was beyond difficult. I realized that I am not the one that has to do everything. I learned that others can be just as efficient as I am and can handle the responsibility. Even after bed rest was over, I had a year when I could do very little. I rested in the fact that my family was there for me and could step up. My husband really became a caretaker and I realized that he could be there for me. We grew together during this long time of recovery. He has absolutely taken care of me even to this day. There is rarely a time when I say I need something that he does not jump up and get it for me. He knows that every step I take is painful on some level still and he tries to alleviate that for me as much as he can. God is faithful, and while I still struggle with pain, I know that I have been blessed through the experience.<br />
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The other part of my journey was learning Reiki. Reiki has changed my life by making me be more aware of the energy around me and the energy that I am putting out there. I have learned that my energy affects those around me and vice versa. I focus more on making myself calm when approaching my kids and generating positive energy when I want it to affect them. The Reiki journey has been so very important in the way I view people as well. I have always been quick to assume things about people and quick to have a snarky come back. I think Reiki and the positive energy it creates in me has caused me to be more of a positive soothing presence. I am far more quick to assume the best in people. I give people the benefit of the doubt and see the difficulty in their situation instead of the immediate reaction of irritation. I feel it has strengthened my resolve to be an encourager. It has made me much more intentional in what I do. Reiki has drawn me closer to my friend Valerie, whom I took the classes with. We are bonded in ways I cannot completely understand. We share some sort of energy and it is positive and uplifting. I am thankful for her presence in my life. She is a rock, understands my humor and commiserates with me when needed. I believe that my Reiki is given from God and I accept the energy and healing he provides. You can read a bit of my Reiki journey<a href="http://sherific.blogspot.com/2012/09/fresh-start.html"> here</a>, <a href="http://sherific.blogspot.com/2012/11/reiki-revisited.html">here</a> and <a href="http://sherific.blogspot.com/2012/11/positivity.html">here</a>. <br />
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Last year we became a larger family by welcoming a long time friend into our fold while she was pregnant with her first child. We supported her emotionally and physically through her pregnancy and she became an integral part of our family. She understands my kiddos and their issues. She loves us as much as we love her. I was blessed to be at the birth of her son and cut the cord. Robert and I "play" grammy and grampy to an adorable, cherub faced, red headed baby boy. We adore them as our own, because they are a part of us. They have both given us so much joy. She is understanding of our trials and is super helpful when something comes up. She is always willing to give of herself to help us in any way she possibly can. She is loving and caring and I am so proud of the momma she has become. That boy's smile and smoochies can light up my day! I am so thankful that they are in our life and have given us another reason to focus on the good. God knew what he was doing when he stuck her in our lives!<br />
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The last and most important is the addition of my <a href="http://www.momsfindhealing.com/">TRIBE</a> in my life. I <a href="http://sherific.blogspot.com/2014/03/third-time-is-charm.html">blogged recently</a> about my third year in Orlando with my moms from Beyond Trauma and Attachment and I meant every word. My friends who are also raising kids from hard places are my lifeline. They hold me up when I need it. They laugh with me when I can't stand drama anymore. And they love me unconditionally. I have never in my whole life felt like I "<i>fit</i>" somewhere as I do with my BeTA girls. This year was very freeing for me. I felt like the misfit who was always picked last for kickball finally made it "in" with the cool kids. I felt loved and accepted. I felt important. Not important in a superior way, but important in a way that I was cared for by others. I feel as though I have found the spot I have always belonged. I feel like I have always had a BeTA fish shaped whole in my heart and it was finally filled. The most amazing thing about this tribe is that we are all so very different. We come from different areas of the country, different backgrounds, different political and spiritual persuasions, we have different sexual preferences and different thoughts about life, but we accept one another as we are on the same road with similar challenges. We respect one another and our choices are our own, but we can still support and love. For me, that is the true definition of family. I have been blessed with a few of those mommas who I know have my back at a moment's notice. I know I can hide out at their house 9 hours away when I need to escape (and have), I know they will fly here to help if needed and I know that I can call them and always count on them listening to my cry or laugh hysterically. I can wake up to them serenading me on facebook voice chat, get emails that they have placed a gift in my paypal account and have Amazon boxes delivered to my door. They are my strength. They complete me and hold me up more than they could ever imagine. I am humbled by he generosity and am forever grateful.<br />
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As I sit and ponder what the immediate future holds for our family in the liver transplant process, I can't fathom doing it as the person I was a few short years ago. The amount of support I have now and the love I feel from others is such a blessing. I would be an absolute mess without the love of my tribe. I would be crazy to think I could do this without the strengthened relationship I have with my amazing husband. I have a local friend that I adore and share a special bond with. I have a surrogate grandbaby who lights up my life and a friend who isn't afraid of my life and what it entails. I can look back and see that the journey God has put us on has driven us to a place where we can do this. I am much more at peace than I could imagine. I know this is because I am being held up. I am being prayed for, loved on and being sent positive energy. <br />
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I am forever thankful for the journey. <br />
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I have been prepared for this moment and I can do this. <br />
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<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-65496635329301179832014-03-12T19:52:00.001-07:002014-03-12T19:53:24.896-07:00Third time is a charm . . . <div style="text-align: center;">
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In March of 2012, I was given the privilege to go to the Early Trauma and Attachment Annual Meeting in Orlando. It was life changing. I found my people. I felt so at home with those who were raising children who came from hard places such as my son. Some had children from foster care, some had children from international adoption and some even had bio children or step children. The common thread was the effect of early trauma on our children. I learned so much from my fellow moms of trauma and I was changed. That year I soaked in all the information I heard. I became a better parent, a better wife and a better person. I began to research alternative methods and became involved in learning Reiki. I was irrevocably changed due to my time in Orlando. <br />
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In March of 2013, I was thrilled to return to Orlando. That year my focus was a bit different. I felt the need to speak to as many women as I possibly could. I searched out others for their techniques and their parenting styles. I felt like I could not possibly learn enough. I wanted to talk to others and learn from their experiences. It was a freeing year as I sought out new people and new information. I learned about EFT tapping and continue to use it daily. Our leader, Corey had made the decision to step down from her duties and a wonderful woman stepped up to the plate. Rachel asked me to help and I was thrilled. We began to really delve into the reasons people came to Orlando and what we could do to improve the wonderful legacy that we had been left with. <br />
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This last 12 months have been a whirlwind of planning and learning. Beyond Trauma and Attachment (BeTA) was born. A website was created. We drew together a Board of Directors and had lots of input on this year's retreat. We meshed well as a group and the 10 Board Members and the 10 Host Mothers for this year worked our tails off to provide a wonderful framework for this year's retreat. Rachel was our driving force and her HARD WORK and her desire to reach out to families who needed us inspirational. I am thankful for her guidance and friendship. <br />
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This past week I traveled to Orlando for my third time. Each time I have been involved with this retreat I have learned so much about myself and this year was no different. This year I think I grew more on a personal level. I learned so much about myself and I learned that I am loved and cherished by my friends. This year I happened to be going through a serious illness with my husband and I have never felt so very <br />
loved.<br />
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I was blessed to be the host mom of 12 wonderful women. While we all came from different backgrounds and perspectives we respected and held one another up. I have never seen more bravery, more love, more kindness personified. I met women who are raising children who have been challenged with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, BiPolar, Schizophrenia and RAD. I met mommas who are caring for children with physical disabilities and children who appear to be completely typical. The one thing we have in common is that we have all been affected by trauma just as our children have. I cried and laughed more than I ever knew I could. I learned so very many things.<br />
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This year was MY year. It was more about me than my kids. I spent most of my time in my own villa, getting to know those around me. I shared things that I have learned and I listened. I listened to so many brave women share their stories. I reveled in the fact that we are all strong and we CAN do this.<br />
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I also spent time in the presence of those <i>most precious</i> to me. I strengthened relationships that were started the past few years. I worked on feeling their energy and surrounding myself with the positivity. I tried to attune myself to the energy of others and just plain sit with the "goodness". I needed to rest in the fact that I am loved. As mothers we sometimes forget that we are important too. That was the gift that Orlando gave me this year. This year I found out that I am <i>important. </i><br />
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Tears were a big part of Orlando for me this year. I cried because of the pain I felt for others and their own trauma. I cried because I felt so special and loved. I cried because I don't want to leave those that I love so very much. I cried because we are all so damn strong and I am so proud of all of us. But I mostly cried because I am blessed to be a part of something bigger than myself. I am blessed to see others coming together to help, hold up and love others. <br />
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The next several months hold lots of trauma for our family. My husband will be receiving a new liver. Someone will give him the gift of life. I will need much support and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my BeTA ladies have my back. I have filled my cup with the goodness that is Orlando and I know I can revisit that fountain as I need to over the next year. The gift I have been given is priceless. I have been given the gift of acceptance, love and kinship.<br />
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The legacy that was started 4 years ago lives on and I am eternally grateful for that one brave woman who stepped out and reached out to others living a very similar life. Thank you Corey. You are loved and your vision lives on. <br />
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Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-41544533295355576282014-03-12T18:51:00.002-07:002014-03-12T18:51:46.665-07:00Transplant is necessary . . . My husband, Robert, went to meet with IU's liver transplant team last week. I was at my yearly conference in Orlando so I was not able to attend, but he loved his doctor and felt very at ease with the whole appointment. Plans have been made. <br />
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They confirmed that Robert is very ill. His liver is extremely diseased and has no ability to regenerate. It is definitely time for a transplant. They told him that if he does not get the transplant, within 2 years he will be gravely ill. <br />
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There was lots of talk about the worthiness of him as an organ recipient. That was not only humbling but very interesting. He will be given the gift of life. Due to that, it is imperative that we make sure he is physically healthy in every other way. It would be a waste of a donated liver to give it to someone who is ill in another way. Robert will undergo a plethora of testing to make sure the remainder of his organs are healthy and can sustain life. Tests will be scheduled over the next few weeks for this purpose. They have told us that livers are not in short supply which is fabulous. The donated liver simply must have the same blood type as Robert in order to be used. <br />
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Once Robert goes to the committee and he is approved to be an organ recipient, it could be as long as 6 months before the transplant is done. We are still very uncertain as to what will happen, how and when. We are at the mercy of their schedules at IU Med Center. We will be taking a class that will let us know what to expect. <br />
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I am very thankful that we have the opportunity to accept a liver from a donor. What a privilege to be given a second chance at life due to someone else's gift! If I am completely honest I am also entirely freaked out. The prospect of someone opening up my husband, removing an important organ and replacing it with another scares me. I know that liver transplants are the most common transplant, but complications still happen. I just need to rest assured that he is in the best hands possible and he will be fine. <br />
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<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-2727811980299249262013-12-28T15:54:00.000-08:002013-12-28T15:54:54.327-08:00So blessed ...This week has been a whirlwind. My husband has not been feeling well. That is truly nothing new, for the last few years it seems he comes down with every illness around. He is always struggling with fevers and stomach ailments. He has had more and more headaches. Recently it has been getting worse. Last weekend he took my son to the ER because we thought he had broken his tailbone throwing himself down on the floor. While there, my husband passed out in the bathroom and was admitted to the ER himself. They found that he had low blood platelets. He had been struggling with BARELY eating and still gaining weight. He tried calling our doctor but he was out for the week. We decided he would wait until after the holidays. That all came to a head on Sunday before Christmas. <br />
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Sunday he came downstairs and looked like he was 9 months pregnant with twins. He was terribly bloated and I worried he was bleeding internally. We contacted our nurse hotline and they sent him immediately to the ER. Once there we found out that he had cirrhosis of the liver and was quite sick. They transported him to the main hospital and admitted him.<br />
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Through the testing we found out that having a malfunctioning liver leads to MANY other complications. They did end up removing 12+ pounds of fluid from his abdomen. His Liver Functioning Tests (LFT) is a 14. At 16 they put you on a pre-transplant list and at 17 you go on the list for a transplant. We are talking serious illness. The tests revealed bulging veins in his airway due to the blood not being cleansed and heavy pressure. These veins needed to be seen in endoscopy to see how far along they had progressed and if they needed intervention. If these veins are too taxed, they can burst and he will die of an aneurism. The issue was that his platelets were so low that they refused to do the testing until the counts were up. That resulting in lots of bags of platelets and lots of praying that those counts went up so the testing could be done before Christmas. <br />
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Through the work of an amazing nurse, who was very good to my husband, it did happen and he came home on Christmas Eve's evening. Now the funs begins as we try to change our lifestyle so that we can maintain the level he is now and possibly even use the Dr. Fuhrman diet to regenerate some of his liver tissue. There is hope, it will just be a long and hard road. But it will be worth it to keep him around a bit longer. <br />
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All this to tell you that I have been so tremendously blessed through all of this by my <a href="http://www.momsfindhealing.com/">BeTA</a> sisters. I have never in my life felt as though I have been a part of something bigger than myself. I have received more messages of encouragement and kindness than I ever thought possible. I have constantly said that these ladies are my tribe. Raising kids such as ours tends to knit you together in ways that others cannot understand. I always know that they have my back in dealing with my kids, but I was reminded this week that they have my back in other ways too. I have never felt so cared for and loved. They are my tribe. They are my family. I am blessed beyond measure. As a person who has always felt like an outcast and someone who has chosen to remove herself from "the group" consistently, I can barely fathom that people care about me. Sheri. It is humbling and so very special. I am brought to tears.<br />
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Thank you ladies for sharing your life, your love and your kindness. You have no idea how deeply touched I am and thankful that I have all of you in my life. <a href="http://www.momsfindhealing.com/index.php/retreat-faq/">March</a> cannot come soon enough! <br />
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<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-76755779080416239862013-11-11T12:06:00.001-08:002013-11-11T12:06:25.034-08:00Perspective Living a life with a child who has experienced early trauma is hard. As a parent you spend your days wavering between frustration and joy. I wrote a while back about the <a href="http://sherific.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-fringe-benefits.html">Fringe Benefits</a> of this life where I talked about the ability to give people the benefit of the doubt. I think it also gives you perspective. <br />
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I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. It is heavily passed through my family through genetics. It is interesting that while a bunch of us have it on my mother's side, we all have a different "Strain" of it. My OCD tends to lean toward the obsessive side of the spectrum. I fret, worry, and ruminate. Medication has helped tremendously, but oddly enough I think living the life I do has helped as well. <br />
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There were times prior to adoption that the biggest concern I had was a sink full of dishes. I would fret and worry about messes that seemed organized to other people. It is funny that life now is rarely organized or neatly arranged in any way shape or form and please don't look at my toilets!<br />
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When you consider the atrocities that were inflicted upon my child prior to him coming to our home, it makes those things seem foolish. It has been my own version of exposure therapy. Battling demons is hard work and also tiring. It leaves little desire to make sure things are completely stored away in their neat little labeled bins. It is all about perspective. <br />
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That is why it is so difficult for me to get bent out of shape about things that seem to hold little importance. My two bio children had parent teacher conferences this past week. My son is brilliant and yet struggles with following through with the minor details. You know, details like turning in work that has been done. Teachers were appropriately bent out of shape about this and I had to muster up some concern for my face. It's not that I am not irritated that he doesn't do turn everything in even when it is done, it is just such a small thing in my perspective. My daughter struggles with homework. It is hard for me fight with her over busy work that really serves no purpose other than making her do the same skill 42 times on a double sided paper. She excels on tests and does amazingly well on her state testing and evaluations, but routinely fails her homework. That tells me that she grasps the concepts and is absolutely unable to make herself take her time on the unnecessary busywork. She shares my OCD and I can she her rebelling against what she believes to be ridiculous amounts of repetition. It is all about perspective. <br />
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You see, living in our house is not the typical situation. These kiddos deal with trauma, anxiety, hollering, mental illness and all the drama that ensues. It is not the ideal situation. When they were younger, they really didn't know that our home was any different. They took the door alarms and cameras in stride. They didn't know that other kids don't have to endure an hour long fit from their big brother that includes a restraint. They had no idea that the police didn't have to chase other kids through the neighborhood in their underwear. As they have gotten older, they are realizing that this life is not NORMAL in any way. <br />
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While it has taught them tolerance, I think it also has made them angry. I have a hard time forcing homework and freaking out about a grade that is a B when I know they are capable of an A. It might be a dangerous view, but I highly doubt that a D on a science project in 4th grade will effect their future. <br />
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I am grateful for this perspective. I have a feeling that I would be a helicopter parent if I had not been given the blessing of learning to CHILL OUT. I think I simply have to learn to balance it and make sure more things are followed through on. It is an important skill for them to learn, I just don't pretend that they should have it all mastered by now. <br />
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<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-46446717431669808652013-11-07T17:52:00.002-08:002013-11-07T17:52:44.720-08:00Adoption Month This will likely be all over the place. I have no idea where this will end up so please forgive my wandering.<br />
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November is National Adoption Month.<br />
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Let's state the obvious, Adoption is life changing. People focus on the sacrifice that we adopted parents make. The way we graciously open our home to an "orphan". The way we give them a better life than they would've had without us. How generous we are. Love can and will fix everything.<br />
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That, my friends, is a pile of crap. <br />
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Adoption is born from ruin. It is ugly. It is loss, something that if we were honest we wished would never have to happen. It comes from pain. It is unnatural. <br />
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All those things being true it is still wonderful and loving. It is done out of a spirit of helpfulness. It is kindness and mercy. It is a necessary evil. <br />
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It is not a decision I regret. <br />
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It is not<b><i> at all </i></b>what I expected. It is messy. It is hard. It is gut wrenching. <br />
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Working through the pain that my child suffered and the indelible scars they left behind is not easy. It is not generous and it does not make me a saint. It makes me a warrior. I wish there were things I never knew. I wish I didn't immediately go to "that place" when someone shares that they are pursuing adoption. <br />
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I fear that they are going in blind like we did. I fear that they are thinking they are going to have a short period of adjustment and all will be well. I fear that others in their home will be adversely effected. I fear that they will lose their ideal image of adoption. I fear that they think that most times love is enough.<br />
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And if I am honest with myself, I what I fear most is that their love will be enough while mine wasn't. <br />
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I fear that I drew the short stick and their life will be peachy. I fear that I will share a small portion of our ugly with them to try to prepare them and then the get flowers and hearts instead of stinky fish and garbage to wade through. I fear they will think I am crazy. <br />
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I also fear that I am right, and they will experience the hard part of loss. Their child will have attachment resistance and will struggle with e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. I fear being "right" because that means another child and another family will have to wade through the muck of early trauma. I fear that their chemistry, their brain is forever altered by the loss they have experienced. I fear we will add another parent into the "trauma momma" fold and another child will have to live with the repercussions of mistakes the adults in their life have made. I fear that a child suffers. <br />
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My family has been forever changed by adoption. I have learned to be a fighter, an advocate, and a learner. My children have learned compassion and tolerance for others. I have experienced more heartache than I knew existed. I have also experienced more joy. I have friends that AMAZE me daily. I have become a part of an amazing community who hold one another up when we think we can no longer continue. I have traveled across the country to be in the presence of women who understand. I have met moms who are warriors and children who are conquerors. I have met those still deep in the battle and I have met those on the other side. <br />
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I have made mistakes. I have been forgiven. I have learned it is not about me. I have learned that no one really knows what we go through unless you live it daily. I understand that you still think I am crazy. <br />
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And that is ok. <br />
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I don't really want you to understand. I want you to reach out and help. I want you to make a meal for a family in your circle who has adopted. I want you to ask if you can take their child to a movie. I want you to understand when they pull into themselves. I want you to not give up on them when they cannot socialize as often as before. I want you NOT to say they are special, or awesome or a saint, because likely they are feeling precisely the opposite. I want you to drop by with wine and chocolate and not blink twice when the house is a disaster or smells like pee. Come over and ask to help with laundry. Ask to play catch in the yard with their child so they can take a freaking nap without being hyper vigilant. <br />
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Never forget that scars from early trauma and issues with attachment do not show on the outside. Please, for the love of all that is holy, understand that they will likely be wonderful, kind, perfect children for you because you are not the parent. You are not trying to take over that spot in their life that holds so much pain, so much loss. You are not the object of their difficulties. Please don't judge the parent when you simply can't see it. I promise they are not crazy. I promise you won't get it. And that is ok. Just know it.<br />
<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-5589417505305959052013-09-23T19:14:00.000-07:002013-09-23T19:16:44.283-07:00Mom, mom, mom, ma, mommy . . . . Constant Chatter . . . <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Not many people understand what it means to have a child who exhibits constant chatter. I know that most people think about that annoying kid in school who would not shut up or the lady next door who has no idea when enough is enough and you just want to finish your latte in peace. No, it is much more sinister than that (*wink*). It is horrific and make you want to poke your ears out with a red hot stick.<br />
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Let me explain. And please, try not to poke your ears out. I promise I will go easy on you.<br />
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I decided driving home tonight that I was going to keep a mental tally of the number of times Dustin says the same thing over and over. You see, we have patterns. There are a number of things he repeats, or harps on, constantly, but there is a pattern to the maddness. I decided to focus on the Big Three. <br />
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You see, from the moment I walk in the door until dinner I get to hear something about going outside. He is on constant supervision so he cannot go outside without an adult. Tonight I got home just before 5:00 and we ate dinner just after 6:30. During that hour and a half I hear one of the following phrases, or something very similar 57 (Fifty Seven!!) times. <br />
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"Mom, can I go outside? I promise to behave."<br />
""Why don't I get to have any fun?"<br />
"I need to go outside."<br />
"Can I puh-lease go outside and play."<br />
"I need fresh air."<br />
"Mom, I must go outside"<br />
"Oh my gosh, I have to go outside or I will die."<br />
"I neeeeeeed to be outside with the air."<br />
"I must go outside."<br />
"Outside?"<br />
"If you give me a chance, I promise not to touch any of the kids." <br />
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YOu may be thinking, "For the love of all that is holy, take the kid outside!" Well let me tell you this, 3 of those times we were ACTUALLY outside!!! We were outside and he is so consumed with asking me if we can go outside that he forgot we were outside. Serious. This is my life.<br />
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When dinner is served we usually switch gears. Something clicks in his head and he knows that the outside time is lost for the day. Then we begin switching to food. The second he is done eating he starts asking for a snack. This lasts about an hour and a half as well. Tonight, the count was up to 62. (Sixty Two!!!)<br />
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"I need a snack."<br />
"I am so hungry"<br />
"Mom, Can I earn a snack?"<br />
"Mom you said I could have a snack later."<br />
"Is it time for my snack."<br />
"Oh I am starving."<br />
"I am sooo hungry"<br />
"Dad, I need my snack."<br />
"I just want a snack, that's all."<br />
"If you give me a snack I will be quiet."<br />
"I am so hungry, I think I might die."<br />
"It's not fair I don't get a snack."<br />
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You might be thinking, "Give the poor kid his snack!!" Well, you see it is not that simple. If you give it too early he just asks for more and the cycle continues. Oy! You also must understand that mixed in with the "Snack talk" is also the "I really need something to drink" talk. And as you could probably guess, included is "Mom, I need a drink so bad I might die." Yep, he is nothing if not consistent.<br />
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Snack time is over. You know what is next? Take a guess. I bet you can figure it out. You got it! From snack time we deal with "When can I go to bed." Tonight we are up to 27. This will include classics such as:<br />
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"Mom, I am so tired."<br />
"Oh man, I am sleepy."<br />
"Mom, I could just fall asleep right now."<br />
"Is it time for bed."<br />
"Mom is it 9:45."<br />
"Dad it's already 10:15"<br />
"Is it time for bed yet?"<br />
"I need to go upstairs you can trust me."<br />
"I promise if you let me go upstairs I wont wake you up in the morning"<br />
"I need to sleep or I will die."<br />
"Mom, not fair. I want to sleep."<br />
"Pleeeeeeeeeeeease let me go to bed."<br />
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You are likely thinking "Send the kid to bed! Get him out of your hair!" Nope. Not a chance. If he goes to bed before 10:30 at the earliest he is up before 5:00am. He is absolutely unable to stay in his room AT ALL in the morning. As tenacious and he is about his talking, the coming out of his room is even better (insert sarcasm). His door is alarmed so we know when he is out of his room, and that sucker can go off up to 15 times a morning. Swear to goodness. <br />
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Of course I would be neglectful to mention that the Big Three are not alone in their misery. Tonight our recurring theme was "My allergies are bad!". If I heard one more time that his allergies are making his "stuffy" I might have had to hurt myself.<br />
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Just for giggles, let me tell you about this past weekend's theme. We have a local festival called the Johnny Appleseed Festival. Dustin began asking when we were going as early as Thursday. From the beginning, we told him we were not going until Sunday afternoon. I endured 8 million (may be exxaggerated) questions about when we were going to "Johnny See Apple-sode". My facebook status on Saturday was "If Dustin asks me one more time when we are going to Johnny See Apple-sode I am gonna punch him in the apples!"<br />
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It becomes tiring. It is annoying. It is frustrating. We have tried everything. We have tried to ignore. He just keeps talking. We have tried answering each and every time. He keeps asking even when he knows the answer. Nothing changes.<br />
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*sigh*</div>
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It's a good thing he is cute! </div>
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<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-70372063126611068502013-08-22T18:39:00.000-07:002013-08-22T19:11:45.069-07:00The Fringe Benefits . . . Raising a child from trauma is a very difficult thing. It is gut wrenching and it is exasperating. It changes you. It pervades every part of your life. It affects your family, your relationships, your job and sometimes your marriage. It changes you in ways that you had no idea were needing changing. <br />
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You get angry.<br />
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You get angry with people you have never met for exposing your child to things that they would've been better off never seeing or feeling. You get angry with yourself for loosing patience. You get angry with your child for things that are beyond their control. You get very angry. And then you get angry for getting angry. <br />
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You also experience love.<br />
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You find that you have love you never thought you were capable of. Love you feel even when you don't want to. Love that finds it way through the anger and wraps itself ever so tightly through the fine threads you feel like you are hanging by. Love that heals you. Love that you pray heals them . . . even when you think it never will. <br />
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There are some casualties of war of raising children who come from hard places.<br />
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You learn how to get urine smell out of just about everything in your home. You learn how to hide your chocolate in tampon boxes in the far shelf of the bathroom so your child won't find it and eat it all in one sitting (because YOU want to eat it all in one sitting!). You learn how to cope with door alarms, police intervention, CPS investigations, and service providers in your home. You learn the ins and outs of Special Education law and how to navigate through loads of insurance company red tape to get your child the help you know they deserve. You sometimes become bitter, jaded and weary.<br />
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There are some fringe benefits too.<br />
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You learn how to do a lot of home repair for yourself including plumbing and dry walling to repair the damage caused by children who are angry. You learn that there are genuinely good people in this world who understand what you are going through and want to help your child heal. You learn there are other families who are traveling the same road and give you help and support. Your other children grow up with compassion, patience, and tolerance for those who are struggling. They learn that not everyone is the same. You learn that you have more strength than you ever thought possible.<br />
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One of the MOST IMPORTANT things that I learned was how to give others the benefit of the doubt. <br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. - John Watson </span></i></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Because of this view, I have come to realize that just because I think I know what is going on in another person's life, I truly have no idea. Very few people know or can even comprehend the kind of drama in my home or the craziness that is whirling in the head of my child. It is not his fault. It is a product of his trauma. It can certainly appear that we are horrible parents while he is raging in Target. It would be wonderful if people would give us the benefit of the doubt. Why can't I extend that benefit of the doubt to another person? It is my choice, I absolutely can!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I believe that I have become less judgmental. Through my journey, I have learned that everyone is entitled to make their own choices whether that be religious practice, sexual preference or how they live their lives because I may not have all the answers for THEM. I have learned that regardless of what I believe as a Christian, that has little bearing on someone who doesn't believe what I do. I am called by Jesus to LOVE. I am called to be an example of LOVE. I believe that LOVE wins. <i> All else is nought. </i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I can support someone who is making a different choice than me. What better way to show the LOVE of Jesus than to LOVE them? What better way to have a possibility of winning them to Jesus by loving them instead of condemning them? One of my former pastors used to say "You will never argue anyone to Jesus" and I stand by that. I will keep standing by that. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I feel like I am a better person for all the trauma we have experienced by raising a child from trauma. It has scarred me. It has changed the very make-up of my being. I am grateful for it all. I feel as though I am better at seeing more of the whole picture . . . even if it is being revealed one small piece at a time. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, <i>but</i> do not have love, <i>I am only</i> a resounding gong or a <i>clanging cymbal</i>. - I Corinthians 13:1 </span></span></div>
<span class="st"></span>Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-52803847104398012262013-04-16T10:43:00.000-07:002013-04-16T10:43:02.499-07:00Orlando 2014 . . . <div style="text-align: center;">
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The registration for next year's Orlando Retreat begins May 1st . Yesterday a friend on facebook posted that Orlando was "the best thing I ever did for myself". I had the privledge of meeting her last year. She came in a day early and joined a bunch of us in a hotel tha first night before we got to the villas. She had not ever left her state alone and had never flown. She took a HUGE step of faith in registering. This year, she stayed in the same villa as I did. She is a true gem! I responded on facebook with "So glad you did. I am better person for having you in my life."<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is how I feel about all the ladies I have been blessed to meet because of Orlando. The support I have garnered has been instrumental in the good space our family is in at this moment. They have HELD ME UP when I have faltered. They have given me HOPE when I swore that all was lost. They have LAUGHED with me when I had no other choice and they have CRIED with me when I felt I couldn't possibly take anything else. They are the glue that holds me together and I couldn't be more thankful for the blessing of meeting these S T R O N G women. Had it not been for them, I picture a very different place that we would be in at the moment. I am not sure I could do this alone. I am not sure my marriage would be intact and I am not sure that my son would be living in my house. They are my foundation in parenting my child and I could not more grateful. </div>
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If you are parenting a child from Trauma or one that struggles with Attachment, consider yourself invited. I promise that you will feel welcomed and a part of a sisterhood that you could not imagine. If you think you won't fit in, I promise you we will take that challenge. If you think that stepping out and heading to a place that you don't know a soul is too big a step, I promise you we will hold your hand. I PROMISE you that you will never look back and regret your decision. I swear that your life will be changed for the better. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Go on. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Do it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I promise it will be worth facing every fear.</span></div>
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Visit our <a href="http://www.momsfindhealing.com/index.php/retreat-faq/">BeTA retreat FAQ page</a> and get some information and take the leap! </div>
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Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-621129878166159782013-03-23T19:42:00.001-07:002013-03-23T19:42:26.368-07:00Enough . . . This year's concept for <a href="http://momsfindhealing.com/">Orlando</a> was <b><i>ENOUGH</i></b>. <i>I am Enough. You are Enough. We are Enough. It is Enough.</i> Our shirts were emblazened with the mantra. We had notebooks and charms with it on it. Each year it seems that the theme for the weekend was so fitting. This year more than ever it resonated within me. Perhaps it is where I am at this time. Perhaps it is knowing that my son is now 18 and would normally be celebrating turning into an adult had his life been different. Perhaps it is simply because I am worn out.<br />
<br />
I have to come to grips daily that I am a failure. I go to bed nightly knowing that NOTHING I do can change the trauma that my son suffered in his early, formative years. NOTHING I can do will change the fact that his brain is missing pieces due to alcohol consumption while in utero. NOTHING I can do will help him be less impulsive and make better choices. I can simply do what I can to get him through each day.<br />
<br />
I go to bed nightly thinking I could've done so many things differently.
I could've tried harder, had more patience, said nicer things.<br />
<br />
I lose my cool. I say things I shouldn't. I am not perfect. <br />
<br />
The first time I ever voiced my concerns of being a failure to our psychiatrist, he said to me "You are never going to feel like a success with a kid like Dustin. Getting up in the morning and doing it all over again is success."<br />
<br />
I keep moving forward. I have to. For him, for my other kids, for all
of us. We start each new day with a clean slate. We start over with a
new perspective. We give it one more shot. <br />
<br />
We can advocate for
our kids. We can fight for services. We can beg and plead for help.
When it comes down to it, we are left alone to deal with the aftermath
of the trauma they suffered as children. We can make it better, but it
will never ever go away. My child's brain damage caused by alcohol in
utero will not repair itself. We have to cut them some slack. Why
shouldn't we cut ourselves the same slack?<br />
<br />
It's hard. It may not
be what I signed up for, but I keep going. What other choice do I
have? You do what you have to and hope you get another day to do it a
little bit better than the last. <br />
<br />
It's hard. It's what I do.
<br />
<br />
My husband is a person who always looks for the bright side. He is the first one to say that thinks will get better, we will see it differently with a good night's sleep, etc. When I ask him if we made a mistake adopting Dustin into family or if we were the wrong family for him, he always responds the same way . . ."We were the only ones willing to take this on. We were the only ones who stepped up. We love him. That has to be enough."<br />
<br />
We do the hard stuff.<br />
<br />
We do the best we can.<br />
<br />
It has to be enough.<br />
<br />
Be gentle with yourself. Even though you feel as though you are ill equipped to deal with your child's issues. You are enough. Even though your child fights the love and healing you are helping to get them to accept. IT is enough. Even though there are those that don't understand our struggles, our choices and our family dynamics we are enough. <br />
<br />
I have to rest in the fact that what we are doing is sufficient. We hope for the best. We give the love and the comfort and the understanding and sometimes he chooses to accept them. That has to be enough. It is better than the alternative.<br />
<br />
<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-65589936006095512802013-03-22T19:35:00.002-07:002013-03-22T19:35:45.124-07:00Quiet . . . Things have been a bit quiet around here. The Orlando retreat came and went. I have a wonderful weekend with 120 women who "get it". They do the tough job of raising kids from trauma who struggle with attachment issues. We help one another by offering suggestions, emparting skills, talking about what works for them and what has failed. We give one another a place to sit and vent but also to learn to help our kids heal. It truly is an amazing time away.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Since then, I have been hard at work on the website for the organization that is taking over the yearly retreat and offering more in the way of year round support. The original organizers are stepping down and one brave momma has stepped up in their place. <a href="http://www.momsfindhealing.com/">Beyond Trauma and Attachment</a>, also known as BeTA, (www.momsfindhealing.com) has been born and we are working hard to fill the gap. My job is the new website, as well as maintaining the facebook page and support groups. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEWyWwtwBT4X_n9X5KC9HokhPu-w7PzsmZVJei0j3DH6pFhmN8ft6P5VXDENqykZwJ0QHxcNxUk8lV0U8j9vNZB3FAeR2JxLcgN6qJWUmg83hfmSRcUSac6qQgihhri5SEmL8/s1600/Possible+Logo2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEWyWwtwBT4X_n9X5KC9HokhPu-w7PzsmZVJei0j3DH6pFhmN8ft6P5VXDENqykZwJ0QHxcNxUk8lV0U8j9vNZB3FAeR2JxLcgN6qJWUmg83hfmSRcUSac6qQgihhri5SEmL8/s320/Possible+Logo2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="userContent">Can you do me a favor and share our website
with your facebook friends or real life family? You may not know that a family you are
close to is struggling. So many families keep this sort of thing quiet
because they feel like they are the only ones going thro<span class="text_exposed_show">ugh
this or that they are dong something wrong. Early Trauma and
Attachment issues are not just reserved for adoptive families either.
You could be helping hold up a family who are living a life they never
imagined! Support groups are now available for moms, dads and
siblings.</span></span><br />
<br />
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Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-14140958651586691252013-02-06T10:13:00.000-08:002013-02-06T10:41:14.456-08:00Adoption is LOSS . . . Today I was directed to an amazing article entitled, <a href="http://adoptionvoicesmagazine.com/adoptee-view/adoptee-view-what-can-a-tiny-baby-know/?fb_action_ids=526647940701196&fb_action_types=og.likes&fb_source=timeline_og&action_object_map={%22526647940701196%22%3A309136865867329}&action_type_map={%22526647940701196%22%3A%22og.likes%22}&action_ref_map">"Adoptee View: What Can a Tiny Baby Know?"</a>. It is something that everyone, whether involved in the world of adoption or not, should read. It is powerful stuff. <br />
<br />
<i>"Adoption is a trauma that happens to a child. The child is torn away
from her biological mother, placed in the arms of strangers and is left
with questions, doubts, fears and anxiety with no way to verbalize,
express, mourn or contextualize those feelings. Though the common
misconception is that a child won’t remember any of it many
psychologists believe, with evidence to support, that children remember
their birth and the following events, including relinquishment and
adoption, up to the age of three."</i><br />
<br />
Even as a fairly clueless foster parent, I refused to have my foster kiddos call me "Mom". I found it disrespectful to their birth parent and not a good practice for the child when it can to attachment. The foster children in our home either chose to call us by our given names or they could choose Aunt and Uncle. I did have one girl who asked if she could refer to me a school as her mom because she didn't want to be different. I totally understood and told her I was okay with that if she chose. I recall her whispering in my ear, "I know you are not my mom and please don't tell my real mom because it will hurt her." I knew that day that we were making the right decision. <br />
<br />
As an adoptive parent, I have never felt like I am a saint for bringing my adopted child into my family. I resent it when people talk about what we did as a miracle. I hate when people tell us we are special. I hate when they say that my son is LUCKY to have us. He isn't LUCKY. I bet if you asked him he would've rather been LUCKY enough to have a parent who could raise him in his own family. I bet he would tell you that the abuse he suffered to get to us wasn't LUCKY. While I understand their sentiments, I know where their heart is, but it is basically a slap in the face of my son's journey. His journey is ugly, hard, tragic and filled with grief. There is nothing LUCKY about it.<br />
<br />
<i> "Research shows that, at birth, a baby is able to recognize her mother’s
voice. Within a few days of birth she will recognize familiar faces,
voices and smells and be drawn to them. With research showing that
babies do have a memory, in contradiction to long held beliefs, it
becomes unreasonable to assume that a baby would not remember or
recognize (at a visceral and thus almost imprinting level) the loss of
her mother upon separation."</i><br />
<br />
I know as a pregnant momma I spent hours talking to my baby. We are told by doctors to read to our children in utero and play music. We are told after birth they like to hear our heartbeat because they heard it all the time in the womb. We are foolish to think that that baby who is removed from their birth mother won't experience trauma that that voice, that sound, that smell, that <b><i>presence</i></b> is no longer there. <i></i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I had a friend this week tell me that her family is considering adopting an international teenager. I hate that my first thought was "No!". I am sad and ashamed that I cried for her family. While I support her in her decision I wept that her life (and of course the child's life) will be turned upside down. I prayed for guidance and I messaged her asking if I could share my heart. Thankfully she was open to what I had to say. I explained that if she went into this thinking everything was rainbows and unicorns that she would be extremely disappointed. That if she went into this thinking that she was going to "save" a child and give them a better life and they would be eternally grateful to come to America she would be sorely mistaken. I wanted her to go into this with her eyes wide open. I wanted her to adjust her expectations so they are not dashed and she ends up on the other side battered and bleeding asking me why I didn't tell her it would be this hard. I explained that it could be not quite so terrible, but it wouldn't be easy. And the "hard" that it is is not the "hard" you have ever experienced. It changes you in ways you never knew existed. It cuts and it hurts. When you finally come to the understanding that you, even through the best of intentions, are a part of the pain that your child is experiencing, it is heartbreaking. It is life changing. It takes your breath away. When you understand that small piece, you understand the pain of attachment issues.<br />
<br />
That being said, I will support her in whatever she chooses. I will be her greatest champion. I will rejoice if it goes swimmingly. I will support her and her family in any way I can! She will make the best choice for her and her family, I just wanted to keep it real from my perspective.<br />
<br />
The article talks about the two different ways that kids react to adoption and the loss is creates. I can't do the subject any more justice than he did . . .<br />
<br />
<i>"Every adopted child, allow me to reiterate, <b>every</b> adopted
child falls into one of two categories. She either acts out and is
difficult or is quiet, adaptable and compliant. Of course the degree to
which each adoptee acts out or becomes compliant is individual.</i><br />
<i> </i>
<br />
<i>Some who act out will go to the extreme of running away from home,
threatening their adoptive parents, rebel academically and even attempt
suicide. A 2001 study shows that of teens in grades 7 through 12, 7.6%
of adopted teens had attempted suicide compared with 3% among their
non-adopted peers. The compliant child may become a model citizen in
school as well at home or she may just kind of fade into the background,
trying not to be noticed or cause trouble. Either way they are both
reactions to the trauma of being adopted.</i><br />
<br />
<i>
</i><i>The child who acts out, is, in essence, attempting to initiate some
form of rejection from parents, teachers, peers and others in order to
prove that she is unlovable or she finds herself rejecting these same
people prior to being rejected by them. This type of child is obviously
troubled and it is easy to identify as needing help. However, parents
and therapists often try to counsel the child into acting more
appropriately, instilling tough love or even unknowingly furthering the
child’s abandonment issues by sending them to boarding school, camp or
other such institutions. Rarely do adoptive parents and counselors see
this behavior as a reaction to her adoption trauma. They are never truly
treating the source of the wound.</i><br />
<br />
<i>
</i><i>For the compliant child the situation can actually be much more
devastating. As a compliant child who is either not causing problems or
actually well engaged and visibly successful, she is not seen as having
any problems at all. Parents see this child as well adjusted to life,
including being adopted, and with no outwardly troubling signs of
concern, this child is often overlooked and not given any form of
counseling or assistance in dealing with life or emotional wounds. It is
difficult for anyone to see that the child who is often referred to as,
“mature for her age” or “pleasant and articulate,” is actually in equal
distress to the child who is acting out. Both are hurting, both are
devastated by the trauma of relinquishment and both have no way to
articulate, understand, contextualize or grieve the loss they have
endured.</i><br />
<br />
<i>
</i><i>These two behavior types present themselves at various ages, though
adolescence is the most common time for them to reach their strongest
levels. Additionally, some may actually experience both behavior types,
switching from one to the other depending on their environment or
transition back and forth throughout maturity. Also noteworthy is that
no matter the age of adoption, infant through teen, all adoptees
essentially suffer from the same issues."</i><br />
<br />
For me, these paragraphs were eyeopening. While talking to people about our adoption struggles, I have often said something like, "You could be fortunate, your child might escape these issues, they may do well with the loss surrounding adoption." I think the author does a good job of mentioning that even though a child is compliant and seems to adjust well, there are still underlying issues that need to be addressed to help them become a well rounded, productive adult who is happy in their own skin. Depending on the child, I think this could be done just by parents being open and honest about the issues. I think individuality it a HUGE part of this. Every child is different. <br />
<br />
As I have progressed in my own journey and dealt with my son's "demons" I have come to see that we are waging a war. A war with what he believes to be true and what he feels. It is ugly. It is hard. It is something he will never, ever forget. I can only hope that I am able to help him through it to be who he is meant to be. <br />
<br />
<br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-59328028400988353262013-01-30T11:57:00.001-08:002013-01-30T11:59:50.921-08:00Collateral Damage . . . I worry. It is who I am and who I will likely always be. I worry about things that I have no control over. I worry about things I cannot change. I worry abut worrying.<br />
<br />
Lately by biggest worry has been my 2 younger kiddos. I worry that raising them in a home that is as chaotic as mine and as crazy as ours can be will "break" them. I worry that all the attention given to Dustin will make them feel "less". I worry that they are not getting what they need from me as a parent. Are they getting a tired, grumpy and on edge parent? They deserve better.<br />
<br />
Logically, I can tell myself that no one grows up in a optimal environment and that this life will make them more compassionate, more patient and more loving. Logically, I can tell myself that I am doing the best we are doing the best we can and it will all come out in the wash. But it is HARD. It is hard to see them struggle. It is hard to see them get frustrated that their 17 year old brother is on the porch in his underwear when we come home from daycare. It is hard to see them get angry that he can't just do what he is asked. I hate seeing them grouching at him. I hate hearing them say "Can't you just listen for once!?" I hate denying them the ability to go somewhere as a family because it is a place that Dustin can't handle the sensory aspect of. I hate saying no to sleepovers and play dates at our house because of what I would be exposing other children to. <br />
<br />
Today is teacher conferences at their school. I know that both kids will get talked to about not completing homework. In reality, that is more my fault than theirs. Typically they get fabulous grades and do well in class. Our life is so chaotic in the evenings, homework is one of the last things I push. Most nights we scrap it in order to have some semblance of family time or Dustin is so out of hand that nothing would get done anyway. It is my issue and something I am going to have to address with the teachers. I hate airing our "dirty" laundry, but sometimes I feel like it has to be done. I hate feeling like a failure not being able to juggle it all.<br />
<br />
Both of my kids have definitely inherited a piece of my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and I think that s where the problem lies. The way that is presents itself is different in each child, but our household and it's atmosphere is not helping. I have to come up with a way to calm the entire house and to make each child feel as though they are an integral and important part of our home. And maybe they already feel that way and these are my own insecurities spilling over! I thought as the kids got older, it would be easier, and it seems to just present new challenges and hiccups. <br />
<br />
There are no easy answers.<br />
<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-79956786650455940702013-01-26T18:09:00.004-08:002013-01-26T18:09:30.579-08:00Rough . . .Things have been rough around here lately. We have had another incident in public the weekend after the last post. It was not too drawn out because I caught him before he actually took off. But we became a spectacle in he parking lot when people began gawking at us and I lost my cool.<br />
<br />
Last weekend, Dustin spent a half hour on the corner of our busy street at about 10:00 at night in his underwear in freezing temperatures. At first, I left him thinking he would come home, but later it became obvious that it was going to take coaxing to get him home. It was not fun.<br />
<br />
This week has been better, but today I got screamed at for most of the day. Fun times. <br />
<br />
We did just turn in paperwork to file for guardianship of Dustin when he turns 18 next month. Makes me wonder if we are making the right decision. The problem is I am not sure there is any other decision to make. He has no options and I made a commitment to him knowing that he would not be able to live on his own at 18. We are doing the right thing. I just wish it wouldn't be so damn difficult. Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-3782715481369853432013-01-06T11:46:00.000-08:002013-01-06T11:46:10.791-08:00Ergh, embarrassment . . . Yesterday I had to run some errands and help a friend with a home improvement project. I took Dustin and McCartney and then we decided we would go do a bit of shopping. Heading into Kohls he asked if we could go to the pet store. The answer was no. He obsesses over pet stores and truly I was not in the mood for it today. I told him we were going to the mall next and I would get him a pretzel. I could tell in his eyes that was not acceptable and he was going to make me pay for it. <br />
<br />
Once we were inside he kept venturing farther and farther away from me. I ignored it. I could tell he wanted me to chase him. We have not had an issue in public like this for a long time, not since our trip to<a href="http://sherific.blogspot.com/2010/05/run-run-run-run-runaway.html"> Kmart where the police were actually involved</a>. I decided that I would not chase him and I actually needed to try on some undergarments so I would just let him wander the store. I was fairly confident he would not leave the store and every time I saw him sneaking by me I would mention to him that he could keep walking around and I would tell him when we were leaving. Of course I was smiling even though I wanted to holler at him to get his butt back over here where I asked him to be! I did not want an incident, little did I know . . .<br />
<br />
When it was time to go, we headed toward the checkout. He came by soon and I told him we were leaving. He jumped, hollered NO, and ran away. I explained to the checkout girl that he was special needs (even though he is bigger than me and look completely typical) and I didn't want to cause a scene. I told her I was going to go sit on the bench near the door and wait. She was very kind and asked if I wanted her to page him, I knew it wouldn't do any good. I wanted to chase him down with every fiber of my being, but I knew it would be ugly, and quite frankly since I broke my leg last year I have a hard time walking, let alone running. Also, I am trying to have GRACE this year and I thought that waiting patiently and being non-confrontational would result in a better ending for all of us.<br />
<br />
After sitting there about a half hour, I knew we had not made any progress. I knew it was time to see if I could get him to comply. I walked toward the back of the store and asked McCartney to stay up front. I saw him and he ran back to the bathroom next to the service desk. I was thrilled. I knew he was trapped and I knew if I just waited him out, I could snatch him when he came back out. I explained to the service desk that he was special needs and that I would likely be creating a scene when he came out. The young man and woman there seemed to understand and gave me those sympathetic eyes. There were 12 or so people in line to return merchandise too. I was irritated and embarrassed by the point and my voice was bit quivery but I was holding it together. The worst part is that McCartney had no idea I was standing there and I was worried because she was still up front. <br />
<br />
I waited. And waited. After about 10 minutes I figured he knew I was out there and he was not going to come out. I decided to go into the men's restroom and talk to him. Nice. He was huddled into the corner of the handicapped stall and refused to talk to me at all. I knew we were at a standstill. The stall lock was not one that I could unlock from outside and I was not able to crawl under (ew!). I walked back out defeated with people staring. <br />
<br />
The young man at the service desk asked if he could try. I told him I didn't think it would make a difference and I was worried it would irritate the customers standing in line to be helped. HE said he wanted to try. After about 5 minutes he opened the door and Dustin came walking out. I was thrilled! I told him how thankful I was and that I appreciated his kindness. I began to sob and he siad, "Can I hug you?" It was very kind and very much appreciated. I was mortified and he made me feel very understood. This young man was only about 25 years old. I was so very thankful. <br />
<br />
I held Dustin's wrost and made the trek back up the front of the store with him hollering all the way. It was fabulous I tell ya! (not) By this point McCartney had found me and was just as embarrassed as I was. We left the store with him yelling and me sobbing. <br />
<br />
I put him in the car and took him home. I picked up Harrison and we went to the mall. I really did not want to go but McCartney was looking forward to spending her gift cards from Christmas. We stopped at the pretzel place and sat down to eat. A little girl walked past us with her parents. She was mentally handicapped and had an obvious outward disability. She was carrying on and her parents were simply holding her arm and walking through the mall. Harrison looked at me and said, "Mom, see that girl over there? I kind of wish Dustin looked like her. Then people would know why he acts like he does. They wouldn't think it was your fault." <br />
<br />
Yes, dear boy. Me too. Sigh.<br />
<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-81358018428867178492013-01-02T21:55:00.000-08:002013-01-02T21:55:42.083-08:00Word for this year . . . I have been reading lots of blog posts about people choosing the "Word for the year". At first I wanted to choose one and then I hurt my brain trying to come up with one. I wanted it to be special, meaningful and forcing it wasn't working. It wasn't magical. It was work and I didn't want to do it that way. I decided if I was going to choose a word it had to choose me.<br />
<br />
It did today.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">grace </span></b></div>
<br />
I am not speaking of grace in the sense of being graceful. I am by no means graceful, I mean, I broke my leg in three places on a blow up carnival game for goodness sakes! I could definitely use some grace in that department, but that is not what is talking to me at the moment. <br />
<br />
<b>Grace</b>
has been defined as "the love and mercy given to us by God because God
desires us to have it, not because of anything we have done to earn it,
the benevolence shown by God toward the human race . It
is a spontaneous gift from God to man - generous, free and totally unexpected and undeserved that takes the
form of divine favor, love and clemency.<br />
<br />
Boy, I am who I am because of the grace the creator has given to me. I need to make certain that I am showing grace daily to those around me, those living in my home, those in my circle of friends and probably most importantly to myself. I will focus this year on pouring that grace into the lives of those around me and myself.<br />
<br />
What will that look like? I am certain that will evolve as I do. I am thinking right now, that will take on the face of patience. I will learn to be still and wait. I think it will also start with giving others the benefit of the doubt. That is what grace looks like right now, the future . . . it will be a journey that I am happy to take. <br />
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<span class="arial14">Knowledge is but folly unless it is guided by grace. <i>- George Herbert</i></span><br />
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<span class="huge bqQuoteLink">Faith is a living, daring confidence in God's grace, so sure and certain that a man could stake his life on it a thousand times.</span> <i>
<span class="bodybold">-Martin Luther</span></i><br />
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<span class="huge bqQuoteLink">But
what we can do, as flawed as we are, is still see God in other people,
and do our best to help them find their own grace. That's what I strive
to do, that's what I pray to do every day.</span> <i>
<span class="bodybold">- Barack Obama</span></i><br />
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<span class="huge bqQuoteLink">I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us. <i>- </i></span><i><span class="bodybold">Anne Lamott</span></i><br />
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<span class="bodybold"><span class="huge bqQuoteLink">And
you know, when you've experienced grace and you feel like you've been
forgiven, you're a lot more forgiving of other people. You're a lot more
gracious to others.</span> <i>
<span class="bodybold">- Rick Warren</span></i></span><br />
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<span class="huge bqQuoteLink">Grace in women has more effect than beauty.</span> <i>
<span class="bodybold">-William Hazlitt</span></i>
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<span class="huge bqQuoteLink">Grace has been defined as the outward expression of the inward harmony of the soul.</span> -<i> <span class="bodybold">William Hazlitt</span></i>
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<b>2 Corinthians 12:8-9 </b>Three times I pleaded with the
Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace
is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the
power of Christ may rest upon me.<br />
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<span class="bodybold"><b>Hebrews 4:16 </b>Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So here's to the year of grace. . . </span></div>
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Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-70576828294730124582012-12-24T20:43:00.002-08:002012-12-24T20:43:52.323-08:00Silent Night is a pipe dream . . . I didn't quite feel well when I left work on Friday evening. By the time I got home I was shivering and found I was running a temperature of 103. I have been sick since. It has been a miserable Christmas weekend. Our family Christmas was supposed to happen on Saturday and my siblings and steps siblings thankfully rescheduled for next weekend for me. We cancelled Christmas Eve at our house that we usually spend with my mom, stepdad and brother. We even cancelled the Christmas Day dinner that we planned on having at my mom's with just my family. It has not been a banner year for Christmas around here.<br />
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Yesterday I thought I was on the upswing and hadn't fevered since early morning. I woke up this morning and was fevering and it seems the plague is back with a vengeance. I had promised the kids we would go see The Hobbit in 3D and I was going to make good on my promise even if I exposed everyone in that theater to my sickness. Thankfully there was only 4 other people in the theater and I spread out on 3 seats and laid down. The worst part is that the Hubs is sick too and is about 12 hours behind me so he knows everything that is coming!<br />
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The 2 littles have been decent about helping out. The most frustrating part is of course dealing with Dustin. His impulse control is not easy to deal with on a good day, but being sick makes it doubly bad! Add in the anticipation of the holiday, and he is absolutely bonky! He has no compassion for anything someone else is dealing with. He only thinks about himself and how what you are doing/feeling is affecting him and it is so very tiresome. His brain is simply not wired to care about anyone other than himself. I find it extremely hard to deal with. He also fully aware that we are functioning at a small fraction of our ability and takes full advantage of that by trying to sneak around and get into anything and everything he knows he is not supposed to. There is no resting in my household. The constant vigilance is tiring when you are well, you can imagine what it is like when you are sick. Fetal Alcohol Syndrome sucks! <br />
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Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-87684887827378995582012-12-17T08:04:00.003-08:002012-12-17T08:04:47.911-08:00Solutions? . . . Everyone and their brother is spouting off about what could've been the issue that caused Adam Lanza to kill those at Sandy Hook Elementary and who or what is to blame. I have consciously stayed away from speculation in the news media and have not read a bunch of article about the incident. Usually I am all over this kind of stuff and I can't seem to get enough information, but this one, this one is different for me. <br />
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Why? My child has the ability to be the face of this tragedy. The trauma he experienced early in his life and the attachment issues that have sprung from abuse, neglect, and being shuffled through 10 different placements have broken him in a way that is beyond understanding. I walk with him daily through his issues, and I cannot even understand what it is like to walk in his shoes. Now, I must also mention that my son is not only dealing with behaviors that are labeled as Reactive Attachment Disorder but a slew of other mental health issues and brain damage that occurred from maternal alcohol abuse during pregnancy (FAS or Fetal Alcohol Syndrome). My child has the deck stacked against him. My child has a "grab bag full of crazy". I don't say that disrespectfully, I say that to make people understand that we never quite know which disorder is making it's way to the surface to control his thinking at any given time. He is a whirlwind of trauma and it pains me to think abouot the utrmoil he lives with daily in his mind. It is a hidden disability, the appears to be a kind and pleasant 17 year old in public. He appears to be able to function at a "typical" cognitive level, he cannot. There is not a connection of cause and effect with him. He doesn't understand that their are consequences of his actions. He acts mostly out of impulse without regard of the fallout. Without medication, mental health services and constant supervision he is not only a danger to himself but to others. <br />
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As I sit here and make him out to seemingly be a "monster" he is NOT. His mental health issues don't define him. When he is able to control himself and his impulses, he is a wonderfully pleasant, helpful and loving child. He is kind and compassionate at times. He engages in conversations and wants to be a part of the group. He is not a loner who prefers to stay on the outskirts, he enjoys being the center of attention. He is a joy. He loves his family. <br />
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I don't believe this answer is solely gun control. I am all for owning weapons if you choose, however, I don't believe assault weapons or semi-automatic weapons are necessary for anyone who is not on a battlefield. I also think each gun owner needs to be held responsible is their weapon is used to commit a crime by someone who had access to it. Proper gun ownership is key. <br />
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I don't believe that metal detectors or armed guards at schools are the answer either. This is not about schools only, it is about malls and movie theatres and any where else a large amount of people gather. I went to Jamaica in the 90s and everywhere I went there were armed guards outside of the building. Want to go to Burger King? There is a man holding the door with a automatic rifle. I don't think we need that kind of climate in our country. Besides, who is to say that man is mentally healthy himself and won't go bananas so day?<br />
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<span class="userContent">So what is the solution? My first thought is
BETTER and more AVAILABLE mental health services. People that are this
kind of crazy do not just "breakdown" one day and shoot up and
elementary school. There are indicator, there are signs. There is not
enough services and not nearly enough affordable care for people who are
struggling with mental illness. Too many families cannot get their
loved ones help or the stigma is just too great. We need to have frank and honest discussions about the mentally ill in our communities. We need to eliminate the barriers to people seeking help. We need compassion and kindness. We need understanding and patience. I would suggest that someone knew that this shooter was not stable from a young age. Adults may refuse care, adults may refuse medication, but if we start early and are offering coping mechanisms and appropriate therapy, perhaps the lifelong healing process is in forward motion before it hits a breaking point. Will it be enough is every case? Absolutely not, but there is still room for improvement. </span><br />
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<span class="userContent">I mourn for these families. I mourn for the young man who thought this was the answer. It may not be popular to say that I am sorry for the man who committed these crimes, but I am. Somehow, "we" as a community failed him. We failed the children. It is time to be honest about what we can do to prevent this from happening to anyone else. </span><br />
<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-30899242368358486412012-12-12T10:39:00.000-08:002012-12-12T10:39:06.429-08:00The day Craigslist nearly killed me . . . OK, not really, but it could've happened!<br />
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A few years back I began looking for a desk for my daughter on Craigslist. I found a cute one with a hutch that was really inexpensive in a town about 45 minutes north of me. I spoke to a man and he said that he and his wife would be there all night. He also told me that there was matching dresser I could have for a mere $10 more. I was thrilled! I set out in my mother's van with my special needs son. <br />
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We arrived and I left the car running because it was very cold outside. My son was instructed to stay in the van. I grabbed the money out of my purse and stuck it in my back pocket. When I got into the house, which was on a very poorly lit street, I realized the man was alone. He said his wife had left for the night. Not one to give up a bargain, I walked in and checked out the desk ad hutch that was in the dining room. He asked if I wanted to look at the dresser and I said I did. He then said it was in the basement.<br />
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I got about halfway down the basment steps before I realized it was a very bad idea. The man was behind me on the steps and as soon as I decided I should be creeped out he revved the drill that was in his hands (to take apart the hutch) and laughed when I jumped. He apologized and I decided whether I should run or keep going. Once again, the thought of a matching set for $40 made me press on. The dresser was in another room of the unfinished basement and he instructed me to open the door and go inside. I refused, thinking he would push me in there and lock me away forever. He went in first and I positioned myself between him and the stairs so I could run if I got weirded out. I told him I would take the dresser and he helped me get it up the stairs.<br />
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He went up the stairs first. We got about half way up with this incredibly heavy real wood dresser and he jokingly says, "Hope I don't drop this on you and trap you in the basement" and I nearly screamed in terror. Just then, I hear heavy footsteps upstairs in the house. He had said he was alone, I was certain that it was his partner in crime coming to kill me. I freaked out and began to sweat thinking I was going to die in this small town basement for a bargain! Then I thought of my son in the car, he had my purse and my cell phone. He would have no idea what to do if I didn't come out of the house. I began kicking myself for not bringing my cell phone into the house. Just as the foot stomping got closer, my son appears at the top of the steps. I was relieved it was his foot steps, but was mortified seeing him grabbing the back of his pants. <br />
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Here was my son, jumping up and down in a stranger's house saying "Mom, I am gonna poop my pants!" Thankfully the Craigslist <strike> killer </strike> seller was kind and apparently did not want poop on his floor and allowed him to use his bathroom. <br />
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I did not die that day . . . except from embarrassment. Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-36244801307067293092012-12-07T07:00:00.000-08:002012-12-07T07:00:33.957-08:00Pffft. . . So much for blogging daily in the month of November. I really sucked at that one. Oh well. Life got in the way. This is the worst time of year for my son, which is referred to as a traumaversary. Things are just starting to even out and life is somewhat back to normal on that front. <br />
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My husband's momma died very suddenly. She went from preparing Thanksgiving dinner and shopping to sick 2 days later and ending up in the ER. She was immediately diagnosed with Leukemia and ended up in the ICU within a couple days. She started a dose of chemo, he went down to Kentucky and she died the following morning. It was quick and unexpected. We are all still reeling emotionally from that. My littles are struggling emotionally, but this was the first death time that they were old enough and close enough to the person who died for it to make a mark on them. It has been overwhelming navigating their grief. Being that she lived out of town, they weren't super close to her, but she is their grandmother! And seeing daddy (the husband) stressing out and sad has made them very fragile. <br />
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<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-21649899327966761432012-11-16T07:45:00.000-08:002012-11-16T10:00:28.028-08:00Better days . . . Over the last year or so I have really made a turn around in how I see myself and how I react to the world. Some of the things I struggle with have gotten markedly better and some things are still quite there, I just deal with them better. As I step back and look at what I have done differently, I can point to a few things that have directly helped and I wanted to outline them here for me as well as whoever might benefit from how I currently see the world . . .<br />
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1. I communicate far better with my husband than I used to. I try my best not just to snap at him, but explain why I am frustrated. He has made a point of listening instead of getting defensive. I think explaining how my mind works and how I perceive things has helped him get a better understanding of who I am and why I get so bent out of shape about certain things. I take time to explain when things bother me and why. He has been trying really hard not to take things personally.<br />
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2. Reiki has helped me take control of not only how I relate with people but also my circumstances. IT has allowed me to rest in the "now" and stop and take a breath. It lets me "sit" with where I am and revel in the fact that I am alive, breathing and can experience the energy and world around me. It helps me connect with God on a level that I can "feel". I feel closer to God than I have in a long while and feel a connection with Him in a different way than I ever had. . . that alone is life changing.<br />
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3. I have tried to surround myself with positivity. I have affirmations on my wall at work directly above my desk. I purposely put them on sticky notes so I could change them out and move things around. I am trying to focus not just on "Woe is me" sayings, but positive things that can affect my mood and my outlook. It is easy to gravitate toward the "ugly" and wallow in pity, but it is hard to pull yourself out of that and look at the positive side of things. Having stuff in my face works for me. Focus on the positives even when you can't see them. For me, when I cannot think of anything positive, I think about a roof over my head, my children, food in my belly, and the love of friends. <br />
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4. <a href="http://sherific.blogspot.com/2012/04/tap-tap-tap.html">Tapping.</a> I use tapping mostly when I feel like blowing up and losing my cool. Sometimes I find myself tapping even before I am conscious of it. I also find that I tap in the car alot. For me it is not about the mantra it is a self soothing technique and it works for me. Tapping has so many benefits that I truly think it is miraculous. I am pleased it is in my arsenal!<br />
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5. Unplugged. I have tried to unplug from 24 hour news media. The divisiveness made me crazy. I try very hard to get my news and move on. I cannot wallow in that type of negativity that news channels bring. The same thing with my phone. My phone that was always attached to my hand gets plugged up in the foyer when I get home. I am still accessible for friends and family, but I am not constantly receiving news alerts, text alerts and being fed garbage from media. My home number is only given out to a few friends and family and I know when it rings that it is someone I want to talk to. I feel so much more relaxed than I use to with that phone stuck to my body!<br />
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6. My Best Friend. She is amazing. Always there for me even through her own crap, she is willing to listen and laugh with me. I couldn't have made it through the last year of family issues, constant pain from my leg accident and "just life" without her. She is a part of who I am today even though she has only been in my life a short time. She is the sister I never had and sometimes I think we were separated at birth. She amazes me with her strength and her resiliency. She makes me a better person. <br />
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<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-14089119529395184912012-11-15T18:48:00.000-08:002012-11-16T06:49:21.121-08:00Just for today . . . <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16655703.post-73495384796317300182012-11-14T18:09:00.002-08:002012-11-14T18:46:10.510-08:00Mostly finished project . . . The stairs have been finished as much as they are going to be for now. If they hold up, I will likely make a few changes and take time to caulk all the joints in the wood and repaint the edges so things look clean and finished. For now, they are good enough!<br />
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I ended up purchasing 16 x 24 carpet tiles from the Dollar Store (!!!) and a package of 97 cent nails with larger heads. I did have to purchase 2 different tiles due to availability, but that is my favorite part. I simply cut the tiles in half and tacked them on the treads with the nails. $11 and I am so pleased with how they look! <br />
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The kids picked the words so they are all a bit different. If I had picked them out they would all be the same family (like they would all be verbs) but it was a joint project and they are thrilled with their choices. <br />
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It is nearly impossible to photograph the steps, so these photos will have to do :) Sherihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16598822471867683429noreply@blogger.com5