Thirty Days

We were able to get in yesterday with the child psychiatrist due to a cancellation. Thank you canceller.

I liked her much better than the last guy. We met with her an entire fifty minutes as opposed to the maximum six with the other guy. She also actually spoke to Jacob and asked him how he felt which, wow, yeah, maybe the kid going through it all can give some feedback for once. I was, however, a bit confused when she refused to prescribe some anti-anxiety medications. She agreed he has anxiety and ODD (oppositional defiance disorder) but we're going to lower his patch dosage and supplement that with a three hour pill in the morning while the patch is taking effect.

O. Kay.

We haven't been anywhere today so I can't say anything about the anxiety, but the ADHD? It's there. In full force. In fact he's screaming just for the pure hell of it as I type. That's what $180 buys me I guess. Thirty more days of this.

Oh, joy.

Interesting Development

The husband and I moved to Texas over eleven years ago. Just he and I and our very young pets made the 24 hour journey completely away from everyone and everything we knew.

We landed in a shitty neighborhood thanks to our stellar realtor who assured us we were buying in a very desirable area just to make her last sale before she caught a flight to begin her new life in Puerto Rico two weeks later. Of course, I guess you could consider it desirable, you know if you were a thug or graffiti artist. Anyway, living there for so long we didn't make many connections and if you go back to the very beginnings of this blog you'll see how very needy I was for human companionship, some friends, maybe some family.

Thank goodness we found this home when we did. It really has been a tremendous blessing. Can you believe we've lived here three years this weekend? I swear, I can still smell the new house smell when we walk in the front door. I love it here, I really do. I am surrounded by wonderful neighbors who I can honestly say are my friends. I am lonely no more.

But when I lived over there, I always wished I had some family nearby. Someone to call when I needed an egg or a babysitter or just someone to grill out with on a nice spring evening, but I knew that would never happen. My sister had a great job and loved where she lived and my parents did move closer, just not close enough.

Until now.

My sister's company was bought out by a different company that happens to have a location right smack here in the very town I live in right now at this moment. She was told in April in no uncertain terms that, well, if she wanted to keep working for them she would accept the very generous promotion they were offering her.

And so she did.

She's been here working for a month now already. Tonight she'll be back with her daughter and some belongings and get settled in an apartment not nine hours away but down the street. Her husband will be coming once he finds work and/or sells their house and although she is bummed by this, I, in fact, am not, but that's all I'll say about that.

Down the street.

How long do you think I have to let her get settled before I start dropping my kids off there?

Parenting......

It ain't for the weak.

You have to prepared for everything and sometimes, well, you just aren't.

I just returned from a pool party. An hour early. Elizabeth pitched a fit of epic proportion over, well, I'm still not quite sure, but I told her once to either go back to the pool or walk with me to the showers where she could get dressed and when she refused both I added the old, we-can-go-home-if-you-don't option thinking I was all smart and she'd make a choice and I could then go back to sitting on my ass gossipingchatting with the other parents.

Guess who didn't follow the plan?

And you know what? I really, really didn't want to pick her up and take her home because her brother was behaving like an angel in that pool and, whoops, didn't think about him when I threw out that threat. I

And there I was, squatting on a wet floor in front of ten other parents who were trying desperately not to appear as though they were watching the whole thing.

Let it go or follow through?

Man, I really wanted to let it go. But I didn't. And to be honest, if all those eyes weren't watching me out of their peripheral vision, I might have, but I knew if I did, the next party would be even uglier.

So as calmly as I could I had Adam exit the pool. I squeezed all three of us through the crowd into the extremely tiny party room where the rest of the parents and our things were waiting. I attempted to explain to the hostess what the hell was going on amidst the chaos, but I think all I got was a half-hearted wave as I literally dragged one screaming child through the parking lot with another repeating "I want to stay, what did I do?" over and over while the whole party had their faces pressed against the glass watching it all.

At that moment I could have melted right into the pavement.

What do you think the odds are that they'll all move away before school starts?

I am so embarrassed. My heart is still thumping hard two hours later.

I am not strong enough for this. My weak is showing. I am waving my white flag.

Adam....

is such a sweet little boy.

Oh, he isn't perfect. He can be stubborn. He sometimes sneaks out of the house to play with his friends without telling me. He knows where Jacob's buttons are and pushes them regularly. For the most part, though, he is a sweetie.

This morning as I was dropping off Elizabeth at her stop at bible school Adam says, "She is such a sweet little girl, I love her so much and miss her when she's not with me".

And I know he meant it with his full heart.





I have hundreds more pictures just like this.

Adam has adored Elizabeth since the evening she was born. The morning of her birth he wasn't so sure, but there was true love at second sight and since then I have known G*d sent Elizabeth not to me, but to Adam. He will even tell you himself that she was G*d's most perfect gift to him.

I mean, what six year old says that about his sister?

It's easy to focus on what is not going right in my life. I pray hourly daily for strength and guidance and, well, just a little bit of peace where Jacob is concerned. I tend to forget how so very blessed I am. It may not have been completely as I imagined, but it's a blessing.

All of it.

"For we live by faith, not by sight" II Corinthians 5:7

There is a reason to my current season. I may never understand it, but I have faith it will get better.

And I am forever grateful for my sweet little reminder.

Selective

My baby graduated from kindergarten.



Like, four weeks ago.

Although it was Adam's evening, the focus quickly shifted.

We let Adam pick the dinner choice that night and, of course, he chose Panda. It would've been really nice too if Jacob hadn't decided the only other people in the place were after him and spent the entire dinner growling and rocking back and forth and demanding we bag our food to take home. Which, eventually, we had to do. By the time we got to the ceremony I was sobbing and not completely all because my darling was suddenly a huge first grader. How in the world did this sweet baby become a kindergarten graduate? Ah, I love him so.

A week later Jacob had no problem whatsoever attending his own non awards night and even requested a special dinner himself. At Panda. WTH? You really should have seen the look on my face.

But no. We went for the awards and that was it. I still wonder if we should've even skipped that. Sent him some sort of message but it's over and done with. We went. He was thrilled and happy over his one award and showed no evidence of fearing everyone around him which, of course, he did the next day when I had to buy groceries insisting the terrorists were coming for him very loudly near the Muslims who followed us around with their carts.

*sigh*

The child has been diagnosed with ADD, not ADHD, although I am thinking he's gained an H since we was last tested, Auditory Processing Disorder, which, WTF? I don't even know what that is and I have a Masters Degree in Special Education, and mild anxiety which I believe has escalated over the years to moderate anxiety or possible selective anxiety.

He takes a 20 mg patch of Daytrana daily that takes almost two hours to begin working. Those are some pretty fun two hours I tell ya. Yes, I am being sarcastic.

I tried halving his dosage to see if we'd be able to actually go anywhere but while he wasn't afraid of the neighbors anymore we still couldn't go anywhere because it's a bit embarrassing when your ten year old is doing somersaults in the Target.

So he went back on his original dose.

And he fought me the next four mornings on, well, everything.

On the fifth morning he arose early, put on the patch without a fight, completed ALL of his chores and school work before I even awoke, and FLUSHED THE TOILET which apparently frightens the shit out of him because he won't ever do it.

Why was Friday different? New dosage? New discipline techniques? Suddenly cured?

No.

The night before he asked to play with some girl he adores that day and I told him only if he did his chores and straightened up his attitude.

Hmmmm......

And it didn't even scare him to ride his bike to the complete opposite end of the neighborhood to go find her. Amazingly, just that day there were no people out to get him.

Sadly, said girl left that day to go spend six weeks at her dad's so guess who's afraid of everything again?

*sigh*

Selective anxiety is my official diagnosis.

But just to be sure, we are keeping the July 18 psychiatrist appointment, we have a Monday appointment with some sorta social skills coach? I am not sure what she actually does but the sweet therapist lady seems to think it will help.

We'll see.

And again, something that starts out about Adam turns out about Jacob. It's no wonder poor Adam picks on Jacob every chance he gets. But that is a whole other story.

Only 96 More To Go

Jacob received ONE award this school year....



Perfect Attendance.

In all honesty, I feel like that is really my award because, I mean, how the hell did he get there if not for me?

I did not even want to go to the awards ceremony. In fact, I almost didn't. This is the only picture I took and even then my husband forced me to walk up and take it.

It takes a lot of effort to NOT make honor roll or superior conduct. Shoot, his bullies all got an award for superior conduct and they supposedly saw the principal at some point. Of course, I realize now that may have just been a story told just to shut me upto appease me. But that's a whole 'nother story.

We are on day five of summer vacation and I have to say, it pretty much sucks.

I got all ambitious like on Friday and drove the kids to the teacher store where I doled out sixty bucks on books and charts and fun stuff to begin Fourth Grade Remediation 101. I spent Saturday morning planning our week's activities plus an extensive check chart of chores that aren't really new but a huge reminder as to what is expected of each and every child with shiny stickers to trade in for allowance quarters. I mean, what child doesn't want money?

My big one doesn't apparently.

I think "I don't have to do any of this crap snd you can't make me" was what he spewed as he stomped up the stairs.

And really, I guess he's right.

He has never done time-out and don't tell me to spend eight hours chasing him back to the spot because I've tried that. I have two other kids I have to feed at some point. I know that mysteriously works for the Super Nanny kids but it never has with him.

I can no longer drag him anywhere. He's too strong for me. We used to put him outback and pull the blinds for his time-outs and that worked until he realized all he had to do was drop and drag.

I could spank him with a belt but the last time I tried that he kicked me so hard I coughed up blood and dealt with searing rib pain for two months.

I don't know what to do with him. I've tried nice, I've tried mean, I've tried sweet and understanding, and I've tried ambivalent and nothing works. My child is a lazy, sullen, rude, smelly teenager already and he's only ten.

I have a MASTERS DEGREE in this shit!

Seriously. I have a masters degree in special education with emphasis on....get this....BEHAVIOR DISORDERS. WTF?

I completely integrated a child back into the mainstream classroom using all these fancy techniques I learned yet I CANNOT get my child to feed the damn cat or talk respectfully using the exact same crap.

He has no more stuff since he refuses to clean it up. He has no sheets on his bed since he refuses to make the bed. He is down to only a few items of clothing since he refuses to walk the three steps to the laundry chute. These haven't done anything to change his ways.

This weekend he peed all over the bathroom floor and wall out of spite. What do I do then? Lock him out of the bathrooms?

His therapist wants to admit him to a facility in Austin. Austin is three hours away. It's a nine month program. It costs over $50,000. Our insurance will not cover it. When the sweet doctor lady wants to send a kid who has to attach himself to my arm just to walk the grocery cart fifteen feet to sleep away from home for nine months, it just defeats you.

We can't afford that. And really, I don't think we can afford to chance what might happen if we'd actually drop him off there and drive away. The nice therapist lady seems to think we don't have any other option.

This was definitely not what I imagined when we decided to have children.

Life as photographed by Adam

I couldn't find my camera most of last week. I finally found it today. Under the bed. And this is what I found on it.....












There was another really interesting one I had to delete once I figured out what it was.

I just hope he doesn't continue that when he gets a Facebook page.

Are There Really 101 Days of Summer Vacation?

So today was the last day of school.

It was pretty unremarkable as last days of school go, well, aside from the huge water gun fight and having to watch my child be sprayed mercilessly yet not spoken to at all for the entire hour I put up with that shit before leaving early.

I really thought I was doing a wonderful thing for him by taking him to lunch at his fave greasy pizza palace afterwards.

I was so wrong.

As I was ordering my ten year old child bounced himself off the wall, threw paper napkins, screamed in, what I can only guess was, tongues, growled like a dog, and told me he'd kill me if I didn't leave that place RIGHT. NOW.

Um...yeah.

This is Jacob's new "thing".

Remember last year when he went all crazy bat-shit on that funky Concerta?

Yeah. Kinda like that. Except, there is no rhyme nor reason for this behavior. On the Concerta he was consistent with his agorophobia. Is it agorophobia that makes you want to not be near people or go places? Or is that arachnophobia? Well, whichever, he's afraid of spiders too.

What was I saying?

Oh....Jacob has developed the paranoia again when we go places although it really just depends on the place.

If it's one of Adam's soccer games and the inevitable Chick-Fil-A feast after then he has it.

If it's Target and we promise to buy him something. Hmmm....not so much.

Anyway....

Although he is losing weight, he is still almost as tall as me and much stronger already. I attempted to take him by the hand and escort him from the building but he pulled the drop and drag (which I find extremely ironic from a kid who just demanded to leave). I eventually got him to his feet and out the door but I'm sure to the owners of that fine establishment and the video cameras they use it appeared I was probably abusing him. It didn't help that two teachers from his school walked right in just as I was getting him to the car. I might have said f*ck about that time too. Oops. It's very difficult to refrain from profanity when you're being kicked in the gut.

I keep wondering if the cops will show up.

I am bummed that this yummy pizza will be my last. You know I ain't setting foot in there again.

So here we go again.

I got the first available appointment with the only other child psychiatrist who takes our insurance. July 18 at 1:45. The child has refused to go on our annual trek up to the fancy water slide. He will be staying with his grandparents. I have been told he'll set fire to the church if I even attempt to drop him off for Vacation Bible School in two weeks. He screamed for a solid five minutes when I told him I'd signed him up for ONE three hour art class. He loves art. WTF?

I don't know if he's playing me or not. I kinda feel like he's using last summer's meltdown as an excuse to get out of doing anything. I also feel like he sometimes needs to be committed to a mental facility. I don't know what the hell is going on with him.

Something has to change though. He scares my little kids. Shit, he scares me.

I just don't know what to do anymore. I love him, but I don't really like him much. I want to get help for him, but damn, we've been getting help for him for YEARS and nothing has helped. He maxes out our insurance fund every year by May for all the specialists he sees. He almost failed fourth grade. He got ten demerits a day, every day. He saw more detention in one month this year than I ever did in all twelve years of school. He's been kicked out of church. Again.

What did I do to deserve this? What did my little kids do to deserve this? What did Jacob do to deserve this? Where are the answers to my prayers? His prayers?

How many days until school starts again?

Holy shit I hope we survive this summer.

My Loves

The Cone of Shame

Poor...

Because He's My First Baby...

My dog almost died this week.

But he didn't.



Instead he got a $3500 spleenectomy done by a fancy-schmancy veterinary surgeon complete with new-fangled funnel alternative.

Plus the added towel since the expensive blow-up donut didn't keep him from releasing two staples in the blink of an eye.

This will give him nine more months. Maybe a year.

We had to do it though. The maybe two weeks was more than we could hear.

So we won't be going to Disney next year.

We won't be getting curtains. Finally.

But our dog will be here this summer. And possibly Christmas.

So it was worth it.

The Last Day of Three....Really

Four years ago today....

It really does seem like yesterday.

It's hard to remember when we didn't have a little bit of pink in our house.



And can I just say how so very much I miss that sweet little boy rubbing my hair in that chair every morning. What I wouldn't give for one more morning of that.

What's Wrong With This Picture?

My Blog is Broken...

Or at least that's what I hear ;)

I have lots to write about it, but no time in which to do it. We are in the last six weeks of preschool and along with that comes Mother's Day Tea, Father's Day Picnic, Easter Egg Hunts, and "Graduation". Those also come with art projects that must be laminated, cut, magnetted, and wrapped and guess who gets to do those things? Did I happen to mention the twenty page scrapbooks I have to put together for each child? ALL FIFTEEN OF THEM????

Yeah. That's taking up all my blogging time.

But not Facebook time. I can't let my Frontier and Island die.

Priorities, ya'll.

Anyway....

I found this in my archives. I almost cried. I remember taking that picture. I remember how smart she thought she was because she could take that hat off. Now that baby can put letters together to write words. She can read a little too. She can kick a ball as well as her brothers and can put her own temporary tattoo on her arm.

She got big.

No fair.

In two weeks she'll be four. years. old.

How?

When?

Gah.

This...

Is being posted just because I like it.

Every day I get with that old dog is a gift.



And the girl too, yes, every day I get with that girl and her brothers is also a gift, but, you know, the dog is old so I am very grateful to have this picture and be able to take another today if we want.

10

I swear, I don't know who this person is. I know I had a baby yesterday ten years ago but I haven't seen him in a while.



My baby is 10 today.

10.

10 = can't call him little anymore.

I still look in my back seat and expect to see him grinning at his roly-poly self in that Elmo mirror with a pacifier stuck in his mouth.

I wanted to write about the day of his birth before it escapes me completely as I am beginning to lose details of the scariest day of my life, but that isn't how I want to spend my baby's birthday. I think there's a trip to the comic book store, the Lego store, TRU, and the best Chinese restaurant this side of town in my future.

Ten years ago I became a mom. I figured by now I'd have it all figured out. LOLOLOLOL........

Maybe in the next ten years?

13

Yesterday my furry baby was 13.



Last year he had a tumor cut off his leg. I cried the whole day.

The year before that he had a stomach bug for three days that I was sure was the beginning of the end.

I really never expected to see my sweet pup enter the "teen years". Especially after our first vet told us we'd be lucky to get ten given his pedigree Labrador status. I cried that whole day too because after only three days I was completely in love with him.

Ezra is a good old dog. He's going strong for 91. He still enjoys fetch although he has to rest a lot more. He still tattles on the kids if they are doing something wrong. He has another huge tumor on his leg that we've decided not to remove because, well, he is 13 and, well, we're still paying for the last one.

The odds are he won't make it to 14, but who knew he'd make it to 13, right?



One thing I do know is that we all love him. So much.

Why?

Why are kids so fucking mean?

I thought things were going better since I went up to that wretched school and demanded he not be bullied. Oh, he isn't bullied so much anymore. Well, in the let-me-shove-your-face-in-the-dirt kinda way. Oh no. They've just decided that Jacob can be no where near them at any time so now he's the kid who sits alone with the random straw paper thrown at him. In front of his mother no less.

The very saddest thing about this is that he thinks this is all a-ok. He thinks its great actually.

I. Do not.

Jacob befriended a new kid who showed up the last day of school before Christmas break. A very fat, not too smart, trip-over-his-own-feet kinda kid. The rest of the class had nothing to do with him so Jacob bent over backward to make this kid feel welcome. For the past few weeks things have been hunky-dorey with said kid until last Thursday when Jacob climbs all innocently into the backseat to tell me that Kid told him he didn't want to talk to him at school because the other kids told him they'd make fun of him if they did and guess who's sitting with the popular kids now? Jacob? Was okay with that. He has absolutely no idea how to be treated right that he has no idea he's being treated wrong.

When I went in this afternoon to fetch him from after-school care (which, long story, he shouldn't have been there) Kid and his new side-kicks were sitting in a pack at a long table shooing Jacob even farther, farther, no a little farther away all while my 178 IQ kid just nodded and grinned stupidly thinking this is what all friends do. In fact, he stated as much. Not one child would meet my gaze when I inquired just what in samhill was going on there. Even when he got up and said good-bye to each and everyone of them they all looked away. They wouldn't even respond to me. Little bastards.

Needless to say we had a long discussion again about reading social skills until finally I just had to tell him. THEY. WERE. BEING. MEAN. PERIOD. He still thinks Kid will be his friend tomorrow. I am still beating my head on the granite.

Christian school = Christian behavior. At least that's what it says on the website.

NOT.

Fucking not.

I really want to take him out of that school but I am so, so, so, so afraid it will be so, so, so, so worse in a new place. I just don't know what to fucking do. God I wish my kid was normal. Just a little bit. I wish he had one iota of a social skill so he wouldn't be treated like this. Why does God not help him? Why does God continue to allow him to be treated that way? Does He want him to commit suicide one day? Does he want him to learn THAT way of treating others? I am so damn confused and conflicted I don't even know what to believe anymore. I understand how adults can be put through trials, but children? Why the hell is that good?

Six years. Still not getting better. I want some answers.

And on Thursday....

It is funny how God works....

Today, my co-worker was taken by EMT to the hospital after experiencing dizziness, sweatiness, and severe chest pain. Thankfully, all children had been dismissed by then. Mine were there but she downplayed it and had me take them home before the ambulance arrived. Always thinking of others she is.

I can't remember any of my own problems right now even though I am running a fever and likely have the flu as of 3 pm. Do I even have real problems?

Got a text ten minutes ago that she DID NOT have a heart attack but she is being admitted. They think she is fine but they have to do those things you know.

If you pray, remember her. She has been so good to me these past few months and Elizabeth absolutely adores her (she's her teacher).

My Life is What *I* Make of It

I can't stand seeing the gloom on my blog. That was never what I intended when I started it. I don't want to use the spot I created to celebrate my children to focus on the shortcomings of my life. My marriage isn't perfect. It never was. I really had no business airing it on the world wide web, although your support has been appreciated.

Instead, I bring you more of this:



This.

Is why I continue to find happiness.

I love my kids. So much so that sometimes just looking at them makes tears roll down my face. They are the reason I do everything I do. I am not a perfect parent but those kids know they are adored.

I love my job. So much so that I don't even mind waking up at 6:30 in the morning to prepare for it. If you've read for me for long, you know this is big stuff. It is probably the worst paying job for the work I put into it, but this is why I do it:
(Sshh...don't tell...It's probably not kosher to post this & I'll delete it soon, but I adore them too)



I am far from unhappy.

Confused and frustrated...yeah, sometimes, but I learned long ago you can't rely on anyone else to make you happy and you also can't make someone happy unless they really want to be.

I choose to be happy as often as I can and that's why I needed to get my whine-fest off the top of my blog.