Thursday, August 14, 2014

The Fourth Day

I have nothing really new to report.

My husband and I came home with that admittance paper saying we'll-discuss-this and, well, we haven't discussed it.

I think we both buried our head in the sand with the thought that his "treatment" is over, he must be better,  I mean, that's what it's supposed to do right?

Jacob is doing better.   A little better.   Instead of melting down every third day, it's every fourth day.  Not ideal, but progress.    I like the extra good day.

He is still on the contract for his games.   He doesn't like it, but those first three days he complies.  The fourth day?  Forget about it.   He shouldn't have a contract, that is completely unfair, why is everyone so mean to him?  F*#k You, rot in hell.

I didn't realize we were in a four day cycle until this week.   After I had already volunteered to take Adam's best school friend for the day while his mom was at work.

Whooo, boy.   Did I mention that friend is an only child?

Thank goodness his mom is laid back and understanding and just happens to be a nurse with experience in mental health issues or otherwise Adam may have been looking for a new best school friend this fall.

Many times when Jacob gets in these moods,  I spend much of my time trying to diffuse them.  I get so wrapped up in stopping it, that I can't see what is actually happening, but this day I watched him and took notes(before we fled to a movie and lunch just to get poor friend out of there):

When Derick left around 5:30 that morning I woke suddenly remembering that he hadn't taken the games from him the night before so I had him go get them before he woke up.  He wasn't happy about having to walk a llllll the waaayyyy upstairs, but he did go get them.  Noted to self:  I will have to be the one to enforce that from now on.

When Jacob woke up an hour later he was livid.  He was sure the littles, who were still sleeping, had taken his things and he made sure they knew he thought so.  I rectified the situation but at that point he was so enraged and now he was mad at ME because hell no I can't take his things!  They are HIS.  Where do I get off?   I ignored him for the next two hours as did the others.  He cussed and griped that entire time, but we have learned to go about our business.    It does not escape me that we could likely have avoided the entire scene if my husband would have put down his phone and turned off the television and reminded him to bring that game down.  

Mood Killer Number 1:  No Sleep.   I am sure he was up until at least 4 playing those games hence the need to "turn it in".

So then the friend showed up and things amped up from there.  Did I mention friend's mom is the school nurse at the private school?  The private school that still causes him to freak out?  She is wonderful to him and was while he was there, but he had many choice words about that place in the three minutes she was in my home.   Like I said before, thank goodness she went to nursing school.

Mood Killer Number 2:  That school!  It still haunts him.  He has really got to learn to let it go.

*Let it go, let it go, can't hold me back anymoreeeerrree*  Embrace that please.

And then there was a friend.  And then Jacob was calling him names, telling him he was stupid, acting just like, no worse, than the three year olds I teach when they don't want to share.

Mood Killer Number 3:  Brother has a friend.  He has many friends.   Jacob is still struggling to make and keep friends.  Things have been better since switching schools, he actually went to a birthday party and when he does have his phone there are a few who text him, but no one ever comes over.  They never did.  Never has a school friend come over for him.  He is so immature he still asks for playdates with his 8th grade friends and I try to explain that it doesn't really work that way at his age, but he just thinks I am being mean to him yet again.

Sooooo…….how do I eliminate these triggers?  Can I ever really rid him of these demons?  And will they even be the same in two days when the fourth day comes again?

The therapy he received has helped.  Some.  When he begins to get upset on the first three days he will slap his ears (not part of the therapy I am sure especially since this is a tic he's had for years) and when I think he realizes that he then gets his shoes and goes for a walk.  He won't share what was discussed "in group" but I am guessing this is a new coping skill he has learned.   It worked out really well for our neighbor's dog we were keeping until yesterday, because while he was here he took him.

Very tired from so many walks….

The contract, when people actually follow it, has helped.   He wants his stuff.  He wants it so much he does bathe and brush his teeth and make his bed and not call us names and complain all morning to get it and keep it for the day.  Most days he is even okay giving it back although he does let me know how he really shouldn't have to do that.    If someone would just remember to take. it. back.

The little kids start school next Tuesday.   They feel like they missed out on a lot of their summer.  I do not blame them.  I want a do-over as well.  Jacob doesn't' go back until the next week.  I really, really do wish it were the other way around.    That is mean, I know, but he wants to go back to school too.   He likes this new school and he feels good there.  He doesn't have behavior issues at school.  I want him to go back because I want the peace, but also peace for him.  It's his happy place.

We still haven't fully discussed the residential treatment facility.   I think we are in a phase where by not mentioning it, we don't have to face it, but I think eventually we will.  Yes, things are a little better and I am hoping they get even better once school is in session, but that fourth day is still hell.  As long as the fourth day is still here, we will have to talk about it.


Monday, August 04, 2014


So the insurance quit paying for the outpatient program.   I am not surprised.  Oh my could I complain about how much we are paying for said insurance and how others I know get it completely for free while they don't work, but I digress.   How is that going to help things?

Not happy.  Enough said.

Anyway, Jacob was booted from the program last Monday.  We had to have a meeting where they recommended a residential treatment facility for him.  I was like, okay sure, and then they informed me that it would be a three to nine month program and our out of pocket would be about $20,000.  

Um, no thanks?

Again.  Not happy.  Enough said.

We saw his regular psychiatrist that same day and she disagreed that he was bipolar.   People who are bipolar cannot turn it on and off.   Jacob can.   We are still with the same meds, just increased by 5 mg. each.   They had to order them, so I don't know if this helps yet.

The said we shouldn't tell Jacob about her recommendations, if we decide to take him there, just to go there.   My husband agreed.

I did not so the next day when he started his craziness I showed him the admittance slip and calmly explained to him that this would be our next step.   His eyes were opened wide.  Literally.

Since then, things have gone pretty well.  Oh, we still have our issues, but they are closer to that of normal siblings/families so I can deal with this.  When he starts to get out of control, I just remind him of that paper and things calm right down.  He is following his contract for his game and, in fact, just came down to let me smell his hair.   He has been clean for a week now.  


Monday, July 21, 2014


I just have to wonder.   What the hell goes through Jacob's mind?

He knows how to behave.  He was "normal" last Thursday and Friday.   He kept his voice down, he got his chores done, he cleaned up after himself, and even initiated conversation with us a few times.

I don't even know what happened today.

I am telling you, it's fricking insane here.

I had to put him outside.  AGAIN.  I had to disable our garage doors.   And the doorbell.

My mother bought us a book, as if we don't have or haven't read enough of them.   He apparently dug through my husband's things at some point because this is how he found it yesterday:

Way to steal my post-its.

I guess I should feel glad he was curious enough to check it out.   The vandalism I could do away with.

This actually points more toward a bipolar diagnosis as bipolar patiens do not think they have anything wrong with them that others are making it all up just to piss them off.   At least this is my synopsis from the things I have read and the time I spent with my mother-in-law.    She would also stop taking her medications.   Jacob, as far as I can tell, didn't have any today.

We couldn't find Adam's game this morning.   I had locked it in the safe a few days ago at Adam's request because he was just so tired of Jacob stealing it.   When I opened it today, it wasn't there.   I wracked my brain to remember if I took it out, but I know I didn't.   Adam went upstairs and found it underneath a shelf in Jacob's room.   Of course.   No wonder he acted like an ass and got his game removed.    Why behave?   He had a back-up.   That pisses me off, for sure, but the real problem with this is apparently he knows our safe code.   The safe that has all of our important papers,  emergency money, and Derick's guns.  I don't know much about that safe, but I sure hope you can change the combination.   How in HELL did he do that?

Elizabeth (because I didn't know how) had to install the Wii downstairs because Jacob spent so much time changing everyone's names to dirty words and erasing all of their accomplishments.    And really, I just don't want them to have to go upstairs around him anymore.

Since the contract did not work (no surprise there), I told him my next step was going to the school and talking with his LDC (Leadership Development Corps) Commander.   They have a creed they are to follow at all times and, well, he obviously isn't.  He LOVES LDC and has the opportunity to be a group leader and hold office next school year.    If Captain finds out he is behaving this way, that won't be an option any longer.   In fact, he may even be kicked out.   I would hate to do that to him, but I will.  I thought by actually putting him in this program he might realize I am serious, but so far, he doesn't seem to get it.   He needs to know I mean business.  

I have a babysitter here tomorrow and the next day for ten hours while I relearn the same crap I learned when I got my degree, but hey, I have to do it, and, well, I won't be here.    If he pulls this crap while she's here, he's going to find out just how much business I mean.

Saturday, July 19, 2014


So he did better on Thursday.   The cycle was starting again.   We wrote up a contract with conditions about how he would keep the game and why he would give it back.

He had to give it back today.  Well, we take it away at night, but he isn't able to get that privilege today.  Or probably tomorrow either.   Shoot, probably not all week.

It's so freaking predictable it's not even funny anymore.

Where he was quiet and followed all the rules on Thursday and even yesterday morning, today he came right down at 6 am, started poking Adam with a Wii remote, refused to take his medicine, made strange noises, ran up and down the stairs, threw things, smeared food all over the granite and floor, and turned the television up and laughed like a drowning hyena.    My husband locked himself in (and me out) of the bedroom and then just left the house completely.   "I am not putting up with this shit on my day off" and slammed the door.

Gee, I don't ever get a fucking day off.   Ever.   I deal with his morning tirades all through the school year.  I go to work a stressed out mess every single day.  I clean the messes that he makes before he gets home to see it, I calm the others so they don't lay their grievances at his feet when he returns home.  I drive him to every therapist, psychiatrist, outpatient crazy care while dragging two others with me.  I deal with the teachers, I throw his medicine down his throat.   What does HE do?  Complain about it and then find something fun for himself to do because, hell, he deserves it.

I have a mandatory preschool conference next week.  My mother is extremely ill and cannot come watch them like we had planned on.   My husband just CANNOT take any time off to help me with this.  I can hire a teenage babysitter, but I am not really comfortable with that.   We are forty plus year old adults and this is very hard.   I am just so afraid of what will happen if I go that route.   If I do not go to the conference, I cannot work at preschool next year.  

I will probably get fired.  

I really LOVED that job.   I mean, without that, I don't really have a happy place anymore.   God knows, here isn't it.

Five more years.

In five more years he'll be 18.   At that time, he is out of our home.   I know that is harsh and I hate even thinking it, but he'll be 18.  I'll teach him everything he'll accept until then, but if he refuses to take it, then so be it, but he isn't staying here.  I don't owe him anything after that.   I remember my tiny baby and try to go back and think of him like that, but it's hard.   All I see is this rude, nasty creature and I just want to be free of him.   I had a boyfriend who cussed me out once and then burned me with a cigarette.   I promptly broke up with him and then got a restraining order against him the minute he came around trying to suck up.   I wasn't going to put up with that shit, but man, I put up with it now.  Society really frowns on dumping your own kid.   No one cares how the other children are doing.   We will talk to him and then send him back home with you.  You gave birth to it, you are dealing with it.  Period.  

Only five more years.

Thursday, July 17, 2014



The therapist thinks Jacob is also bipolar.


It's possible.

Derick's mother was bipolar.   She had a hard life.  A hard, hard life.

She was also very hard to deal with.

Ugh.   I knew when I married my husband this could happen, but you know, you don't really think it's going to happen.

Now not only am I worried for Jacob, I am worried for the other two.  What if they get it too?

Why did our kids get this and not his sister's?    She smoked and drank while she was pregnant.   I doubt she ate very well.   I cut out caffeine, blue cheese, lunch meat, all forms of pain medication and I had nine month long headaches.   Why does she get normal kids and we don't?  How in the hell is that fricking fair?

My husband interrupted the therapist to say he thought Jacob was like this because my mother and I spoiled him by buying him toys when he was a baby.    I wanted to reach in and rip his tongue out.

And OF COURSE we bought him toys!   He was our first child, we didn't HAVE ANY!

I guess our next step is to continue the three hours a day through next week.   The following Monday we meet with the psychiatrist to adjust his medications…..lower the ADD meds, add mood stabilizers and antidepressants.   If he refuses, he will be hospitalized in psychiatric hospital for a week to regulate the new medicines.

And THEN our summer will be over.


Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Cleanliness is Next to Godliness

Isn't that how the saying goes?

Maybe they were on to something.

Jacob refuses to bathe.

I am not real sure when this started.  When he was a baby a bath was the only way to calm him.  Some days I would put him in the tub ten times.  If he was in the water,  at least he wasn't crying.  Of course, then it exacerbated his ecxema and then he'd cry because of the creams, but hey, at least he wasn't crying during the bath.

I guess about the time he started school he stopped wanting a bath for fun.   I'd have to really put my foot down to make him take one every evening, but I just figured it was a kid thing.

Fast forward a few years and getting him to bathe is a full on fight.

Some days he runs some water (he ABSOLUTELY refuses to shower and I don't push that one due to the sensory issues) and sits there.  Some days he runs water and wastes it, he just stands there.  Some days he doesn't even go that far.   He'll just come down with greasy, sticking-straight-up hair and flip the eff out when I point out he's lying.  About twice a week my husband will corner him and put him in the shower fully clothed and wash his nasty hair.   We just gotta hope that soap running down is getting something clean.

The last time he washed his hair was Saturday.  Today is Wednesday.  The last time I saw a pair of his underwear in the laundry was early June.  The soap and shampoo I left on his bathtub at Christmas is still 3/4 full.  The last time I cleaned the sink was about that time too.  He doesn't brush his teeth either.

So far I haven't found any correlation to ADD and bathing.   He swims.    He seems okay with splash pads and sprinklers   I just don't get it.  It's gross.

I haven't pushed it much since he's been "in treatment".  I want them to make a fair assessment of him and this is part of it.   I am eager to see what they have to say.  Our family meeting is tonight.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014


This kind of crap pisses me off.

Oh my goodness!  My precious cheerleader daughter didn't want to do her homework!  Her daydreaming was so, so worrisome.

I want some of that.

This is the kind of shit that makes everyone else in the world believe that ADD is a made-up illness.

Step right up!  Come see OUR ADD!  It will make your head spin.

Our ADD started at 6:30 this morning.   We were all awakened by the loud, incessant, not-at-all-in-tune whistling.   He says he just likes it.  I asked him to stop, he gave me an evil grin and went louder.  So now that we are all up,  HEY, how much fun might it be to eat everyone's food?  Every kid eats three whole boxes of cereal don't they?   I have two little ones sobbing at the moment because they NEVER wake up in time to eat THEIR cereal.   I am so glad he is happy about it though, I guess he is, he is maniacally laughing when he's not shoving that shit in his mouth.  They may have been able to eat the leftover bacon and hash browns  if he hadn't smeared that shit with ketchup (the littles hate ketchup), then blew it up in the microwave, and then figured it was some sort of abstract art and left it there for all to see.  When I handed him some towels and told him to clean it up,  he growled at me like a dog, told me I could burn in hell,  and ran upstairs screaming how unfair we all are.

He has refused to take his medications and we are to a point now I cannot force them on him.   He is small and weak, but the adrenaline makes him strong and violent and I'd like to keep my ribs intact and my glasses on my face, thank you very much.

According to "the book", this behavior is a direct result of the deficiencies in various parts of his brain.  He will subconsciously start conflict to raise his adrenaline levels because the adrenaline evens out those "bad" parts and actually helps him to calm and concentrate and go about his day like the rest of us just do.  I get that.  I feel for him, I really do.  It's just, one day I want him to move away and get a job and this kind of behavior isn't going to fly with the boss.  Or a wife.   I don't care what he has, he isn't going to sit on his ass and be waited on the rest of his life.   You smear ketchup all over the kitchen, it's your responsibility to pick that up.

So thank you Holly Robinson Peete!  I am sure you meant well and all, but you have no idea what ADD really is.  Your PSA isn't really helping the cause here.  If you really want to help, go to one of the many psychiatric facilities and sit in the waiting room and exchange stories with the other shell-shocked adults in there.  Listen to the kids fighting and screaming in the back and you may even see an ambulance come to take one away.   Look around and notice that you might actually be the only PARENT in the room.  Talk to the ones around you and learn the other parents have already relinquished their rights to the grandparents because they just couldn't take it anymore.  You will leave with a heavy heart when you see those poor old people, one with a cane, just doing the best they can when they really shouldn't be doing it at all.   You will be surprised to know that everyone of those kids are the same as my kid.  They take the same medications, they have the same outbursts, they have the same diagnosis:  ADD.

And not one of them is daydreaming.