7

So today is Adam's day....

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ADAM!



Dear Adam,

I cannot believe you are SEVEN! I think I blinked and you grew up. Weren't you just a baby yesterday?

You are still my sweet little tiny, but you've changed some. You read very well and can add and subtract and you have the most beautiful cursive handwriting I've ever seen. Your favorite thing to do right now is draw. Our house is filled with pictures you've hung up everywhere. I love to see them, although it makes your dad mad when you use glue to hang them. Tape is a better choice, son. Most of the pictures are of Ben 10 and his various cohorts, but there's a few of you and me and a few more of you and Elizabeth.

Which, speaking of, Elizabeth is still your favorite person. Oh, you tell me I am your favorite person, but I just smile and nod and know you are saying it to make me happy. You and Elizabeth are two peas in a pod. If she likes something, you like it too, regardless of the fact that it might be an entirely female entity. If she wants to paint toenails, you do too, you just don't want all your friends to find out about it. You like to read stories to her and she enjoys listening. Nothing warms my heart more than seeing you give her a huge hug each and every time the teacher loads you into the car after school. You have always adored her and time has not changed that. She is truly your favorite and I am okay with that.



Your favorite color is blue, your favorite shows are Wild Kratts and Ben 10, you like dinosaurs and Cars, and your favorite food is spaghetti, but only with Gammy's homemade takes-six-hours-to-cook sauce. You want oreos and nutella sandwiches in your lunch and you like pizza Wednesdays at school. You play a lot with Roddy and Cade down the street and I like that they are in your class too, although, I am sure your teacher does not.

School is not your favorite place. Going half-day last year was fine, but all day long, well, is a waste of valuable play time to you. You'd rather come home before lunch and play with Elizabeth all afternoon but, alas, this is what life becomes as you continue to grow. I think you have realized that it's not going to change and you've been doing better, but the teacher said you can still be swayed if someone thinks you're funny. I think class clown was tossed around in our last conversation. Well, you are pretty funny.

I remember the day you were born and you honest and truly smiled right at me. Your dad saw it too so I have a witness, although no one believes either one of us, but we know you did and it wasn't just gas either. You are a happy little dude and always have been. If things don't go just your way, you figure out another way. You usually don't get too bent out of shape over things and I hope you stay this way. It's a good way to be.

We went to a movie (Puss in Boots) yesterday and you sat in my lap the entire time. I savored every moment even though my legs were so asleep I couldn't get up when it was over. I know one day you won't fit there and you won't want to fit there and one day you'll lose your sweet baby Adam smell right behind your ear the same way your brother did, but for yesterday I held my sweet little tiny with his dangly legs and pointy elbows and remembered what was and what I still have and it was a wonderful day.

I love you Addie-Man.

Now you are 7.

Again...

My blog is broken. Or so I'm told.

Where did all those posts go? ;)

Oh, two kids with homework, a house to clean, a job to work.....oh, how I miss my early mommy days when I thought I was so bored. What I wouldn't give.....

Anyway...

There's so much to say and so little time. Where do I begin?

I guess we'll talk about Jacob this week. K?

Guess what? Seems there is a shortage of ADHD medications. I wasn't able to fill the latest prescription although I travelled miles and miles to find it. They just aren't making it. The good news about this is, so far, only the four hour override morning pill is affected. I do still have 26 pills leftover that I am hoarding for school days, so although the weekends are rough, at least he's not acting crazy at school. Yet. I am praying they don't stop making his patch by the time we need it refilled in March. Me oh my, that would be a problem.

The first nine weeks of school, Jacob failed math, language, and history. We were told by the psychologist that he would always need help with math, but he failed the other two out of pure laziness. He refused to do any homework, wadded his school work into his desk, and just pretty much clocked out. His explanaation: I'm a kid, I shouldn't have to do all this work. Grrrrr. And we're paying 500 bucks a month for that. Yeah.

Seriously, I really just wanted to yank him out of that school and drop him off at the public school and be done with it, but we were paid up through December with no refunds. So....this last nine weeks was spent three to four hours a night at the dining room table doing and redoing homework and schoolwork and studying like I haven't done since those late nights in college. Another reason there wasn't much blogging this fall. I got lots of resistance and lots of grumbling and so much this-isn't-fair-I'm-just-a-kid-I-hate-you-so-much, but this report card he got a B in language, an A in history, and, eh, a D in math, but at least it was a bit of an improvement. If there hadn't been, he was heading to our public school. I mean, gah, I'm not going to keep paying for him to lounge when he can do it down the street for free. Of course, now he thinks he's off the hook, and as much as I'd love to have those afernoon hours again, we have to keep working. It's just getting harder.

Our plan has always been to send Jacob to the local middle school in sixth grade (next year). Elizabeth starts kindergarten this fall (hold me) and there is no way in hell we can afford three private school tuitions. None. The psychologist believes he should also go there and be enrolled in the special education program, which, I just don't know. More about that later. Anyway, I've met with Jacob's teacher three times and she has practically begged me not to do that. She doesn't think he'll be able to navigate the changing of classes at a school at least ten times the size he's in now. She's afraid he'll be physically bullied and lost in the shuffle with the thirty pupil classrooms. She has even offered to help me get a job there next year so we wouldn't have to pay. I just don't really know what to do. My husband, of course, wants to stick to our original plan because, well, money. I want to at least try the public school because, well, art and computers and robotics and swim teams and...and...and...well, is it a better place for him? How will we know if we don't try? The only problem with that is if pull him out of the private school he loses his spot and there is already a waitlist. What if turns out to be a horrible situation? I mean, what would we do then?

We have to decide by mid-February. That's not much time. When he's screaming and yelling and complaining about school I've already pulled him out in my mind, but every other time I am worried. Stressed. Afraid of making the wrong decision. Afraid of making things worse. Afraid of one day having a deranged teenager crash into his school to open fire on his classmates.

What are your thoughts?

Counter Offer

We have lived here, in our new neighborhood over three years now. We were lucky to get out of there when we did. The last time I drove by, at the request of the boys, the graffiti was rampant and even the nicer homes seemed more rundown. Our house seemed okay, although the dead plants and wet newspapers were pretty ugly. I really missed that house for a while, I mean, I brought three children home to that house, but after that last trip, well, I just wasn't feeling it anymore. This is our home now and we love it.

There are, however, two things I miss about that house: the upstairs laundry room and the laminate countertops.

Yes. I am the one person in America who is hoping granite goes out of style very soon.

It's funny because the granite was one of the things I was most excited about when we found this place. Then we ate on it and I wasn't so excited anymore.

That stuff is hard to clean.

Did you know you can't use Clorox wipes on it? Oh no. They leave a nasty film and the alcohol in them strips the sealant. My husband will only allow me to use a wet rag which, well, doesn't really do the job. I've been known to sneak a wipe or some Windex, but I usually regret it as I'm scrubbing the scum the next day.

This is why I was happy to accept a bottle of stone cleaner from The Fuller Company a few weeks ago. At this point, I'll try anything once.

I wish I could show you the pictures I took, but all you see is the flash in the shine of my nice, black granite countertops.

That stuff not only cleaned the stone, but also polished it smooth and gave it a nice shine. It also stayed that way a few days, making my wet rag cleanups after meals a lot easier. Now, it's not something you'd have time to do twice a day, you have to wipe on, wipe off, much like Ralph Macchio did in the Karate Kid, but once a week should give you a pretty nice table.

Who has granite and wants to see for themselves?

Just leave a comment and tell me how you're cleaning yours now and you could win a full size bottle of The Fuller Company's Stone Cleaner yourself.

Happy Halloween!

Heart

I hope they always love each other this much.....

The Secret to Good Pumpkin Patch Photos....

Take only one child.
Preferably of the female persuasion.
Purchase frilly pink costume on the way.

Finally.

A Hairy Situation

I know what you're thinking.

Cut that child's hair already.

It's just that I really don't know what to do about it....



You see....



Elizabeth developed a new habit over the summer.

I think the official name for it is trichotillomania but she refers to it as "the crazy finger".

About July I started to notice her hair would have tiny little knots. I didn't think too much about it at first because we were swimming at the pool daily and I figured it was just a side effect from the hours of wet hair. One morning I was combing her hair and the entire left side of her head was covered in them along with a few very small stark white bald spots. I blamed myself, thinking I was combing too hard, felt very guilty about it for a few days and then noticed the bald spots were spreading. All the way around her head. By mid-August she was almost completely bald on one side of her head and I had filled two sandwich bags full of the knots she'd pulled free that I'd find on the floor, in her bed, or in the tub.

And this was the other side of her head. The one not effected by her brother's Zohan auditions.

It's actually starting to grow out some and what you see here is not near what it was like this summer. We would go places and people would stop and coo at her and tell her how pretty she was and once I even went to our local consignment shop and let her pick out some books and the lady gave them to us for free and told us she'd pray for us. I thought that was mighty nice and it did not dawn on me until a friend pointed out that she looked like she'd had recent brain surgery.

When I'd catch her with her hands in her hair she'd tell me, "Mom, I can't stop my crazy finger!". And now I wish I had a picture of her waving the crazy finger in the air so you could see why I'd fall on the floor laughing. Yeah, yeah, you shouldn't laugh at your possibly mentally ill child, but it was funny.

Inside, though, I was sick. Maybe she was developing anxiety, depression, OMG what if she has some sort of metabolic, vitamin deficient, tumor-growing, drop dead illness??????? Really?

And just about the time I was making doctor appointments, school started and we don't see Crazy Finger so much anymore.

Schizophrenia or boredom? Hmmmm.....

So another year of lopsided hair. Another year of wacked out school pictures. Another year of whispering, pointing parents wondering.

One day this will be hysterically funny. These pictures will look awesome in her wedding slide show I'm sure, but right now I am just looking for a way to cover up the bald, hence, the long bangs that I use as a comb over.



Kinda like this.

I wonder where I can find a child-size wig....

Is This Thing On?

Did I even post in September?

*sigh*

My official excuse: The beginning of the school year is chaotic and busy and lasts six long weeks.

The truth: Facebook ate my blog.

Oh well, where've you all been all this time? I sure do miss ya'll. Remember when we chatted everyday? What happened to that? Oh, yeah, Facebook.

Anyway, who wants to hear how the summer testing turned out?

You don't? Well, tough.

If we rewind back to late June/early July you'll remember that Jacob was unmedicated for almost three solid weeks due to four different days of testing with a new psychologist. Short back story: Jacob was diagnosed with severe ADD in April 2007 at the age of six and we've struggled with that for a while. His therapist has always believed he has Aspergers Syndrome (Google it if you're living under a rock and never heard of it) and recommended he be retested by this new psychologist. Since I'll try anything once, that's what we did.

After the testing was over, new psychologist said she'd call when she calculated the results AND when my crappy insurance ever called them. That was July 8. On September 19 I finally heard back from her. You'd think I'd be crazy pissed about that but see the beginning of this post where the beginning of school is chaotic and you'll see why it did not dawn on me until that day, that, well, what happened about all that new testing?

Fast forward a week and Kid Number One and I are sitting in her office for a 7 a.m. appointment to read our future.

You want to know what the test said don't you?

I wish I knew. New Doctor will be typing up a comprehensive (i.e. understandable) interpretation of all the raw data, standard deviations, mean, median, averages, do-a-little-dance, whatever the heck it said.

This is what I took away from it (and remember it was 7 a.m.):

(and I don't know how to make points, so we'll use numbers, k?)

1. Jacob DOES NOT have Aspergers. No way, no how, who said he had Aspergers again? Do they have a degree? Wow, no, he absolutely doesn't have Aspergers. I can't believe anyone even suggested that......as New Doctor shakes her head confused.

2. See this number here? This says he's in the 98th percentile for problem solving skills. That's great. That means he should be able to do most anything he wants to....IF.....

3. We deal with this number here....see this number? I would diagnose a child with ADHD if the score were somewhere between 70ish and 80ish. Do you see your son's number? The 4? Yeah....he scored a FOUR.

4. You realize this means he is the most severly ADHD child I have ever seen or tested in all my 32 years of doing this?

5. I mean, WOW, FOUR. I have never, ever, ever seen that.

6. And something, something about the synapses of the brain not meeting and getting where they need to be kinda like frayed electrical wires all over the place not having the outer cover of the electrical cord. Jacob's meds are like the cover of the cord, his brain is the frayed wires.

7. Oh, see here, these other numbers you can't really see through your tears and the glazed over confusion? These mean that there are TWO types of ADHD and, whaddya know? Jacob has BOTH types, BUT he's only being medicated for one. So you know what that means? You won't be able to discuss this with the overbooked psychiatrist until your December 15 appointment so we'll just hope someone cancels.

8. And did I show you the FOUR? Yeah, that means you can medicate him until the sun don't shine (which is what we actually do!) and it still won't do enough for him.

9. Because, I mean, did you see that? FOUR!!!!

10. Oh, and since his brain is basically fine and what's truly messed up is his nervous system dealing with his brain function, I can almost certainly tell you that this is a result of his very early birth, so SEE, it IS your fault.

*sigh*

We were there for an hour (did I mention it was dark outside?) and she gave me soooo much information, but since her mother is dying and she spends four days a week in Dallas, well, she didn't have the written report that dumbs it all down for a non-PHD like me. She swears she'll have it to me by Monday. We shall see.

So what I think this all means is that Jacob is very severly ADHD, both the impulsive type and the inattentive type. Currently he is being medicated for the impulsive type. The reason he is failing math, history, and quite possible language arts is because the inattentive part of his ADHD is not being addressed and, well, he's inattentive. He spaces out during the tests, forgets his books at school so he can't study, doesn't actually study even when the books are in front of him, and generally acts as if the actual school portion of actual school is optional. We can get a dopamine based medication (such as Strattera) that will supplement his Daytrana patch but he will still need to find a therapist or someone who can teach him concentration and study skills. Oh, and it might be a good idea to enroll him in public school so that he can be enrolled in Special Ed. And I really do think that's where my own head hum took over.

When (and if) I ever get the comprehensive report, I'll summarize it for you then. Are you as confused as I am?

So for now, I've talked with his teacher (whom I LOVE,LOVE,LOVE!) who is going to try to help him out with the inattentive mess and who tutors him once a week after school. For free. He's still taking the 15mg Daytrana patch plus 10mg Methyphenidate (Ritalin) to overlap those two hours the patch is kicking in. On the weekends he takes a 10mg Daytrana with no overlap pill. You should have seen our CVS bill this month.

I don't feel like I can really make any decisions until I understand it all better. I'm trying not to lose my cool with him because now I know his brain is like frayed electrical wire that isn't getting anywhere, but I do have to wonder if that FOUR really makes you mock your mom behind her back when she asks you to pick up your socks.

And Adam's teacher asked me yesterday if I had considered having him tested......

*beating my head against the wall*

The First Day

Fifth Grade....



First Grade...




Preschool....

That Was Fast

Here are the pictures I took this summer.....

My sister's birthday...



And the weekend trip to the fancy hotel down the street....



Which was not so much fancy as it was scrungy, but, you know, live and learn.



Summer passed me by yet again. School starts Tuesday. Work starts Wednesday. *sigh*

It seemed like we spent much of our days driving Jacob from one appointment to the next. He saw two different psychiatrists, two different therapists, and a pediatrician. Then our insurance balked at paying for most of it, so we stopped hearing from most of them. Jacob spent almost two weeks completely unmedicated due to being retested on five different days. We were pretty much trapped in the house because we couldn't take him anywhere. Oh, he wanted to go places, he just wanted to go places while doing somersaults and jumping jacks and screaming at the top of his lungs. It was worth it, though, to get a better diagnosis, better prognosis, better plan, or it might have been. The psychiatrist doing the testing won't return my calls since the insurance company won't return her calls. Apparently she's holding the results hostage until she gets paid and our actual money isn't good enough for her or she has some sort of grudge to work out with Aetna. Whatever. Soooo......we still don't know what is wrong with my kid and he didn't get to join any of the social skills groups she promised either. He starts fifth grade in two days and has pretty much nothing to show for it but a bunch of wasted time.

Yay.

The other psychiatrist lowered his Daytrana dosage by half (10mg) and we're happy with that. The paranoia is gone and he can sleep in his room again. I don't think he'll be able to function at school on this dosage because he's still quite busy and so, so talkative, so we'll try him on 15mg on Tuesday and see how that goes. I was a little peeved that she would only write the prescription for tomorrow so I couldn't try it out first, but whatever.

Adam goes to school all day this year and I am sick over it. Kindergarten was sad, but not so much because it wasn't much different than preschool. We were still able to eat lunch and watch Dinosaur Train and do art projects or go buy cake balls all before Jacob got back......I enjoyed his company. If I weren't working, I'd seriously think about homeschooling him a few years. I am going to miss him like crazy.

You know, until he starts fighting with his brother and pisses me off and then school will sound good again.

But right now he's being so sweet that, yeah, I'm going to miss him.

And maybe I'll have more time now to blog with two in school full time......

Yeah. Okay.

The Other Side

Adam was supposed to spend this week with his grandparents.

But he's not.

Although this week has been crossed out for him for months, his summer school class cancelled for this week and the soccer camp he was going to attend scrapped because it interfered, he still isn't going to spend the week with his grandparents as planned.

Abigail, my neice, will be spending this week with the grandparents instead.

I love having my sister and her daughter so close I can see them every weekend . It's just...well....I don't like my neice very much.

ssshhhh...don't tell anyone.

Oh, I love her. She's family. I can take her in very short increments, but when she's here for hours and hours I want to claw my eyes my out and run screaming into traffic.

Abigail is an only child. Kinda. She has a seventeen year old step-sister she sees twice a month. In that time she has apparently learned enough teenage attitude to adopt it as her own. She is eight. It's annoying.

This Saturday she decided she didn't like Jacob anymore. He isn't cool enough for her. She snuck around all day whispering nasty names, pushing him, stealing his things. Of course he is ten and acts like he's five so it was quite loud here with all the upset which was his day. Also...he's off his medication COMPLETELY until we finish up retesting sometime this week. Anyway, it was ugly. And then she brought Adam into it. Adam does not need a reason to pick on Jacob. He's his brother, that's what they do, but she helped amp it up a notch. The two of them...together...relentless....doing all the things I demand to be stopped at school. There were punishments and separations until I felt like a Super Nanny parent just dragging my kid back to the step over and over. For Adam. Abigail was told repeatedly by her mother to "stop it". And that was that. I attempted to throw some consequences her way but the Miley Cyrus wanna-be would throw me some 'tude and then revert back to her own age and cry to her mom about how mean Jacob was and then my sister would stomp up and yell at Jacob. Did I already say how ugly it was? That's the only word I have for Saturday. I should buy a thesaurus.

Anyway...

A few weeks ago my sister scheduled a business trip this entire week. There's no one else to watch Abigail so guess where she gets to go? Yes, the grandparents. Adam has been waiting for his week since he missed his last summer. He was allright sharing it with Abigail so I was too....until Saturday.

After spending the same kind of day on Sunday except with now NEW! attempted drowning, and with plenty of warning I put the kibosh on the whole shared grandparent week.

Abigail screamed at me and declared it unfair, threw a pool ball at my mother and told her she'd be bored at her house now. My sister couldn't understand why I'd suddenly change my mind. My mother still stopped by this morning on her way out of town to see if I was "serious" since now I have to take both littles to all the appointments I scheduled for Jacob this week when I thought I'd be one less. She just kept shaking her head and I know she was worried about how she's going to keep her granddaughter from destroying her new home without someone to occupy her time. Because, yeah, she destroys things too. I guess I should be grateful for all the things I've had to trash makes us look less like hoarders, but damn, my kids liked those toys.

Adam was a wee bit sad this morning and I considered relenting all the way out to my mother's car until she saw Jacob standing behind it and told him to move away she didn't want to run over him and Abigail said...

"Oh, can we?"

I will probably hear from my sister tonight when she finds out I reamed her child out in my driveway.

But I no longer feel like I may have made the wrong choice by keeping Adam at home.

I'm sad for him, yes, because he won't get another chance this summer to have his week, but I just don't want him soaking all that attitude in for so long. I also love my parents too much to make them have to deal with the double trouble I am sure they'd have to endure.

He doesn't seem to upset about it. In fact, he might even seem a bit relieved.

And now, he's upstairs playing Wii with his brother. No one is fighting....so far.

It's strange to be the one pulling her child away for a change. We're usually the ones others break friendships with because they can't deal with Jacob. It's weird.

Money Well Spent

What Are YOU Looking At?

Is what crosses my mind every time I see this picture.



Poor little baby....just pitiful.

I don't remember if I mentioned it in the past, but my kids have warts. My late neice Laura got them at some point during her illness and passed them along to Jacob right before she passed away. Or maybe he caught them from all the junk he picks up, but the Laura story makes them more bearable on everyone so we'll stick with that one. Anyway, Jacob was mercilessly bullied teased about his all over his fingers and arms back in second grade so we had them removed and that was no big deal. Adam started getting the warts last summer and until a few weeks ago there were only a few on his knees. On the last day of school I noticed he had a small one right on his bottom lip. Ugh. If Jacob was bullied teased over finger warts what in the world would happen to my sweet baby over face ones? So I took him to the dermatologist last week to have them (there turned out to be three of them on his face) removed. He was all for it too. When he found out Jacob got a prize from the toy store after his procedure, he was all bring it on .

Until that first blast of whatever that freezing off stuff they shot him with was.

Traumatized I tell you.

But to his credit, he laid (lain, lay, lie? I missed school that day) there and took it for the entire three minutes it took to get them all frozen. Three minutes is a long time when someone is squirting pain into your face.

He would not take the sticker the nurse offered him. Sticker? You're giving me a STICKER! FOR THAT? The absurdity of it all.

He refused to stop at the toy store. Someone! ANYONE! Might see me. And I'm mad. So. Very. Mad. At. My. Mother.

He wanted to go straight home to cover his face with bandages although the bandages were strictly forbidden. What if SOMEONE SEES HIM? OMG. Why did you do this to me? I want a new Mommy. I NEED a Cars 2 bandaid. Stat.

He didn't even want one of his favorite red velvet cake balls I ran out and spent too much on to relieve my guilt over screwing up yet another of my children.

He hated me. He told me so. Over and over.

Two hours later he climbed into my lap in the recliner and sobbed. His Finn McMissile bandaid quivering as he cried. He still hated me, but he still needed me. I felt so badly for him, but at the same time, I completely savored that moment.

His face has completely healed now. I think his soul has healed too. I know my heart is full just being able to soothe my children and do what I can to heal them of their hurts. I know one day soon he won't want me like that.

Then who will soothe me then?

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.