Happy New Year!

There will be no post tonight as we are celebrating.  Happy New Year!

Separation Anxiety Gone Wild

Separation Anxiety Gone Wild

Separation anxiety is an ongoing issue in our household. When the school year started my son had a terrible time separating from me and attending school. It didn't help that we had moved and were in a new school. 6 weeks into the school year, my son started to settle down.

To help with his transition I supplied many photos of myself. Ironically, the one he liked the best was the one where I was wearing sweat pants with crazy hair and washing dishes. Ok, I don't think any modeling agencies will be contacting me soon.

None of the above really surprised me as it seemed to fit nicely into our normal craziness. Separation anxiety is nothing new for us. What surprised me was the follow up from my therapist. She told me, “when mom disappears, all of mom's rules disappear too”.

Huh?

Wow, what a powerful statement. When I disappear, ie am out of sight, then all of my rules and training are also up for grabs? Wow. I'm almost speechless. No wonder my son has so many problems remembering to share, to use nice words, to follow the rules. What rules? There are none if I'm gone.

These days we've stepped up the separation anxiety work. I often ask my son where I'll be when he is at school. If he can mentally place me somewhere then there is no separation … or at least a weak link to me. If he can place me, than my rules stay in place.

To help strengthen this skill we continue to play “peek a boo” at random times. A little bit at bath time with the towel, a little bit at coat time with a coat, maybe a hat. These little reinforcers throughout the day make more impact than a big exercise.

As my son continues to adjust to first grade this year, I feel like I am learning as much as he is. When he struggles with rules at school I realize how much I have to reinforce at home. When he struggles to complete a task, I realize how weak his motor planning skills are. When he struggles, I struggle.

We continue, we continue, we continue. I know there is an end to this one day but for now, we continue.

Not Quite Calm

Not Quite Calm

With the holidays and the lack of schedule it has been surprisingly calm at my house. No major meltdowns until just the other day. Sometimes I forget about the post-Christmas letdown. It's like buyers remorse. It doesn't matter how fantastic of a deal you got, after you still feel letdown. The couple of days after Christmas is like this for my children.

Our morning started out mostly typical but my son had been getting up a little earlier each day. For us this is a sign of bad things. We always monitor his sleeping closely. During the week of Christmas I also had some visits from my son in the middle of the night. Hmm. Not enough for us to have to put a solution in place but enough for us to monitor closely.

Regardless, our morning started out mostly normal with the exception of my son getting up at 5:45am instead of 6:30. Yes, 6:30am is as late as it gets in my house. My son also woke with a cough. Coughs are huge worries for us as they can quickly escalate into asthma emergencies. Time for t.v. and a double shot of medication. We take all nebulizer treatments while watching tv because they bother my child so much and they take so long. A double shot (technically two medications given at the same time) usually takes about 30 minutes to administer.

My son almost immediately starts reacting to the medication. He is pulling my hand, squeezing, fidgeting and unhappy. He is having a tough time. If I were to get up and leave the couch, my son would dump his medication onto the floor. (Something I discovered the hard way.) I don't understand why it is so hard for him or why so many children with sensory issues or mental issues have so many problems with this medication. With some screaming, we make it through the medication. Whew!

Next comes the herculean task of breakfast. I make that ever nutritious selection, Eggos. (Ok, not nutritious. Go away food police.) Somehow there is another meltdown. The waffle was overcooked, undercooked or simply present. I'm unsure what the offending waffle did but it was unforgivable. Meltdown.

Onto the stairs my son goes while my daughter eats all of the cooked waffles. (Damn it, I was hungry.) We calm down and ramp up. Calm down and ramp up... over and over. We cannot stabilize or maintain. When we escalate to screaming and hitting the walls I give the melatonin. Thirty minutes later I have an upset but in control child. One I can talk to and reason with. We have cooked new, inoffensive Eggos and the world is ok if not stellar. I monitor my son all day but he is fine.

What a crazy day.

Sensory Games for Everyone

Happy Holidays – Some sensory games for everyone!

With the holidays come two blissful weeks of vacation from school for my children as well as candy, pie, family events and of course, Santa. While we always look forward to this exciting time, two weeks off and lots of excitement can be challenging for both of my children. We have survived pretty well up until now, but suddenly the presents are open, the pie is gone and there is still a week of free time left. What will we do?

To help take the sensory edge off of my children, we tried a few new things this season. First we have a sensory bucket. In past winters I would make a “sandbox” of sorts for my children. I purchased an amazingly large plastic container with a good lid, bought 5 lbs of rice and 5 lbs of beans (added any small pasta or such I had around the house) and wa-la, and instant sand box to hide toys in. Well, last year my kids refused to play with it (and let's face it, it's pretty big). This year, I have a small bucket (previously a canister for sugar) and it contains a much smaller amount of the same things listed above. I've hidden several very small toys like miniature Star Wars figures or Zoobles and the children must find 6 – 10 items before they can have whatever treat they have asked for. They also must hide the items for the next child. I find this to be small, easy and fast. A great way to get some minor sensory interaction for my kids.

I also convinced my hubby to cut a carpet square for me. Turned upside down, the kids can use this to scoot and slide across the laminate floor. Since the carpet part is face down, there is no damage to the floor.

Other ways I get some activity into my kids is to leave the house. Sounds simple, I know, but it's harder that you'd think. When my son needs sensory input the most is when he desperately wants to stay home. I will create some errand or task and send the kids to put on their boots and coats. Fighting ALWAYS breaks out and they are sent to the garage to wait for me. What is in the garage? A scooter and some balls. Magically, it takes me a long time to get out there. In the meantime my kids will play while waiting for me. (BTW, this works before school too. My kids always want to sled when it's time to go to school but not if we have an extra 10 minutes in the morning. I just plan in extra time now.)

Some additional ideas that have worked for me in the past:

- freeze small toys in ice. You will need paper cups. Fill 1/3 with water and freeze. Add toy and 1/3 of water. Freeze. Add last 1/3 and freeze. Then give your child a plastic bin and a wooden spoon and let the beat the toy out of the ice.

- Make cookie pies. I give my children cookies or graham crackers and some of the squirt icing from the store and let them make houses or just play in the mess. I always do this on a cookie sheet so that it is easy to clean up.

- Measuring stuff. Ok, this one is messy. I will give the kids either water or dry goods like oatmeal and corn meal (don't mix wet and dry unless your crazy). Then I give them bowls, spoons and measuring everything. This is an incredible mess but can keep the kids busy for hours. Sometimes it's worth the mess.

Good luck everyone, and Happy Holidays!

Needing a Clue Card

Needing a Clue Card

November 13, 2010

Yes, I am needing a clue card right now. My son is... well, not right. He is not melting down. He is not raging. He is going to school and playing with friends. Why am I not happy? Why? Because, he is not right.

My son is having trouble focusing. He is talking out of turn at school. He is touching and handling everything. It's like his sensory problems are running crazy but muted. What the hell is going on?

Ok, it's driving me crazy. I'm an expert at my children, particularly my son and his many issues, but this one has me confused. He is unfocused which is pretty unusual for my child. His senses are out of whack but not wildly out of whack. He continues to sleep without the help of melatonin. His asthma is in control.

On the other hand, my son will run around and stick his hands in raw hamburger. (So far I've caught him everytime before he has stuck his hand in his mouth.) He touches everything on the kitchen counter. On the other hand (yes, I have three hands) he uses his words to get gum or chewy stuff to cut down on issues. The babytalk has not reappeared. I'm lost.

I suspect others have been in the same situation that I am. You know that something is not quite right with your child but you don't know what. I feel like my son might have the beginnings of the flu or ADD or … I don't know, a tapeworm, SOMETHING. We're at the beginning of something, I just don't know what. Maybe I'll never know. Maybe my mommy-spidey senses will conquer this problem and it will just disappear.

In the meantime, we are playing sensory games. Gum has become a daily item in our house. I purchased the old fashioned, tough bubble gum today. According to my therapist it counts as heavy work. I also picked up Starburst and Carmels. Both are very chewy for my kid. In addition, I used spray icing, graham crackers and plastic plates for dessert tonight. Both my kids thought it was “so cool” to get icing to both play with and to eat. The graham crackers were just extra. My son didn't eat a lot of the icing but he did play with it. Maybe this new texture will help him integrate.

My detective work continues...

MIL - again

November 11, 2010

It has been so many days since I've written. My MIL who recently moved to the area has not been doing well. On Friday, I was at her place for several hours because she was having a lot of difficulty breathing. We discussed going to the ER repeatedly but the doctor kept telling us that as long as her oxygen numbers were above a certain level that we should wait. For 6 hours we waited. Finally the medication took hold and her breathing eased. Everything was starting to look ok.

Saturday was the birthday party for my twins. I checked in frequently but my MIL continued to do ok.

Now, Monday. *sigh* At 8:30am I get a call from the Assisted Living place. “Are we taking MIL out? Is she going home on this day?” Why would she go home? “MIL has explained that she has to get home. She has many household things that need her attention.”

9:00am Monday. A call from MIL left on the answering machine. “I have to leave the Assisted Living place. (note the “have to”) Can you bring something for me to pack in? I'm planning to stay with you until you can take me home.”

9:45am Monday. I arrive at the A.L. After dropping my kids at school. I unpack her while explaining that she does not “have” to go home... but it's ok, she explains because she needs to go home anyway. Mmm, no. I reply, “ but you need to be healthy for more than 2 days before you can go home. Just Friday you asked to go to the ER because you were having problems.”

“I was having problems? I think your confused. I didn't ask to go to the ER!” At this point I stopped and looked at her... really, really looked and there was not a bit of guile in her face. She didn't remember the problems from Friday or the calls to the doctor or the decisions to go to the ER vs. not go. She didn't remember. Wow.

We've known for a bit now that my MIL suffers from mild dementia but nothing serious. Well, surprise, serious has just entered the building. With her breathing problems and difficulty maintaining her weight (she is too skinny) her dementia can spiral out of control in just a few seconds.

Moving forward to yesterday and today. Breathing problems come and go with MIL but progressed to pneumonia in one lung yesterday. Today, it took over the second lung. By 8:00am I was on the phone again talking to the A.L. place and leaving messages for the doctor. By 9:00am I was again thinking ER. By 10:00am medicine had kicked in and things were getting better.

By 11:00am, I was exhausted.

I would like to say that I have some words of wisdom. Something to share with others who might be in this same situation, but right now I am just getting through from day to day. I'm hopeful that tomorrow will not bring another 8:00am call. I'm hopeful that I can sit in my pj's and catch up on the laundry. Someday I will have the time to ponder how I've spent my life but right now I just want to drink my glass of wine and go to bed.

Ah, what will tomorrow bring?

The Birthday Weekend

The Birthday Weekend

Nov 7, 2010

Sorry for the multi-day disappearing act. It was a crazy weekend.

Saturday we held the birthday parties for my twins. Girls went to Monkey Joes and boys went to Chuck E Cheese. Now, I have to take a minute to plug CEC. Wow, what a fantastic job they did! We tried for very small birthday celebrations this year and wound up with 5 children per party including the birthday child. CEC quoted us a per child price, regardless of party size. It included tokens and pizza and a balloon and crown for the birthday boy. It came to a killer $65 bucks. A fantastic deal.

Monkey Joes didn't have parties for under 8 children and they started at $200. If I wanted, I could add pizza to that. Seriously? We didn't throw the official party at MJ's, just went to play. In all, my daughters party still cost more and was less cool. She didn't notice, but I did. That'll be our last party there.

Back to the crazy life that is ours. Perhaps you notice this with your children too. My son woke up disregulated. After all, it was a party day and the excitement of the party day almost ruins my kid. In my house, we have the classic signs: walking on tip-toes, baby voice and touching everything... and I mean everything. I have to keep raw meat off the counter while I'm cooking because my boy will come to touch it.

The parties didn't start until 2:30 and I have to say, I was impressed with my kid holding it together. Well, mostly holding it together. Pooping our pants is a sure sign of stress in our house. It's also just disgusting. By noon we had pottied and gotten cleaned up. All ok. By 2:00 we were out the door with daddy for our birthday party.

I have to say, the party couldn't have gone better. My son love the ticket chasing machine (I don't know what it's called!) He caught so many tickets he started shoving them in his mouth. How I'm sorry I missed this one! Games were played and pizza was had. A great day.

Meanwhile, at my daughters party we had a parody of “Heathers'. I swear I've never seen so much drama in my life and she's only 7. With 5 girls there is an odd number and always a fight brewing. We braved 3 fights in the 2 hours and lived to tell the tale. Over the next few days I'll spin this story so that my daughter had the best birthday. It helps that they are 7 and very trusting.

Anyway, the evening was not as good as the day. My husband and I both recognized that my son could not calm down. He could not sit or focus. He could not be still. Not good for bedtime. An hour before sleep I gave him 1 mg of melatonin. Our first in quite a while and started the bedtime routine.

Nope. Not happening.

I got my daughter into pjs and bed while my son melted down. Screaming, screaming, screaming. Possibly more screaming, I lost track.

Good news? I wasn't surprised. I was prepared. I knew my kid had too much in him. I know my kid needs to scream. I let him.

This might sound strange to some people and I have to tell you that I sent my husband on a fools errand so that he wouldn't be home for this because he hates the screaming, but I knew my son needed to scream. I put him in bed and laid on him.

Yep. Laid on him.

I had a therapist tell me this was a good idea. I was astonished. For me, this is a bit of a last resort. This is when my kid is so out of control that I have to hold him down but I know he needs me near him. How is this a good idea? My substitute therapist said “You are using your body to calm your child. Your child needs your physical presence to calm. This is a great thing.” Damn, I'm smart and didn't even know it!

Back to my son. After about 5 minutes he calmed. He was screaming at me... well, several unpleasant things, but it eventually ended in ...'and I'm hungry'. Poor baby, I'm sure he was hungry. CEC pizza was at 4:30. It was now 8:00.

A glass of milk and some Ritz crackers got us through the rest of the night and the birthday really was great. Whatever will next year hold?

Comfort

November 1, 2010

Comfort

I've figured out that part of the reason that my son is sleeping better at night is because he can hear me typing on the computer outside of his bedroom door. I have no idea how he can hear it over all of the fans and the humidifier, but I've got money that says he can.

It's strange sometimes what brings comfort to our children. My daughter is currently struggling with her place in the world. As I mentioned before, this is a new thing for her. Every night for the last couple of weeks she has asked me to tell her about the time when she was a baby. Every night I try to come up with a new story. Multiple stories each night are more than I can handle.

She also has the first baby toy that we gave her. Actually, she has a copy of it. The foster mom did not return any of the toys we sent or take pictures with the disposable cameras for us. Our foster mom was a business woman who fostered 6 children instead of the legally allowed 2 children. She was also the facilitator. While the logical side of me can understand the business arrangement and probably the need for money, the mom in me still has some resentment.

For my son the most important thing that we have is an old baby blanket. It wasn't the first or the last blanket. It wasn't a toy or a special piece of clothing. It was this blanket. I remember picking it up in the store and handing it to my daughter. (It's a pastel blanket.) My son felt it once and grabbed it and wrapped himself up. I don't know why, but this was his blanket. We still keep it in a special drawer.

When my children are having problems, I try to remember these simple, little things that seem to help them so much... a special something that only we do together. Over the next few weeks of upset (by which I mean holidays, birthdays and timechanges) these special moments will be the glue that holds my children together. It will be what gives them the confidence to take on the world.

On my to-do list this week is to find our videos from with the kids were babies. I can only imagine the fascination these will hold now that they are so much older; to plan special cookie baking days for us and probably a movie night. Kids don't need exciting or hard to create things. They need the comfort of home and the hug that only mom and dad can provide.

Basketball Begins

Oct 30, 2010

Basketball Begins

Today was the first day of basketball for both of my children. Neither of them has ever played before so their dribbling skills are a little rusty, but there they were at 9:00am ready to go with the rest of the group. It was a fantastic hour of play.

The morning before practice could have gone a little better. My son has been having a lot of trouble off and on for the last few weeks and I think I've finally figured out what it is. It's new stuff. Today he was so excited to go to basketball but I knew before the meltdowns began that something was wrong. We coasted through the morning until it was time to get dressed. Enter meltdown city. What was the catastrophic event? What to wear, sweatpants or shorts. Yes, that was the big question of the day. The underlying problem was that if the wrong pants were chosen, someone would make fun of him.

It's so hard to explain to a 6 yr old that pants vs. shorts just doesn't matter when they view it as the most important event in the world. Finally, I tossed my child to the floor, put pants and socks on him and carried him to the minivan screaming.

Does this sound familiar to anyone? At age 2 my son started crying because he didn't want to go to McDonalds for lunch. When I said we wouldn't go, he started crying because I wouldn't take him. At age 6, we sometimes repeat this loop.

I have been cautioned and reminded by our therapist to not confuse son's chronological age with his emotional age but I so rarely see such a good example. I guess this week, my son will sometimes be emotionally 2 years old. While this isn't ideal, it's ok. I remember when he was emotionally 1 year old and this is better.

What happened after we entered the minivan screaming, you might ask? The same thing that happened when he was 2. When the decision was taken out of his hands, he adjusted and had a great day. It's strange how all kids sometimes need parents to just step and take over. While my children don't always like me making the decisions for them, they gain a massive sense of security that I can and will make the decisions if necessary.

The rest of the day was... fantastic.

It Will Get Better

If you have a child with SPD, this is a great post to read. 

Take a look.


http://www.mamapedia.com/voices/it-will-get-better-sensory-processing-disorder

My Child Is Like An Onion

Oct 29, 2010

My Child Is Like An Onion

Sure, everyone has layers, but my kid has LAYERS! At the ripe age of 4 he was diagnosed with Attachment Disorder. We had all of the classic symptoms: no eye contact, shopping for a new mommy, rages, etc. We started a regime of Theraplay. (I cannot recommend Theraplay enough.) As we got started on the basics of therapy, my therapist kept asking, 'are you sure your son doesn't have SPD?' No, was always my response. See, I had read 'The Out of Sync Child' and my son didn't fit. In reality, I simply didn't understand what I was reading.

We took a simple test and my son scored off the charts for sensory seeking. Hmm, another therapy to integrate. Now this is when the interesting part happened. As Theraplay got underway and progress was made, my son's SPD ramped up. He was touching and mouthing everything. Rages actually increased while we made progress with Theraplay. What???

Enter occupational therapy. Into the therapy room went my bouncy, bumpy little boy who was looking forward to swinging and climbing and everything else. Out came a toddler who needed his mommy. Who needed to held and hugged and snuggled. Who needed quiet and very little sensory input. WHAT??

How in the word did attachment therapy send my kid into rages and O.T. turned him into a toddler? And were these reactions consistent? Of course not, what a silly question. This was when I first learned that my child was like an onion. When his senses were out of whack, none of the attachment activities could penetrate his storm of senses. He couldn't feel my love or concern. He couldn't attach.

Also, when his attachment was out of whack it created more of an internal storm which fueled his SPD. The more you don't love me, the more rage I feel, the more dis-regulated I am, the more I spin out of control.

Wow.

After 4 weeks I started to get a feel for the pattern that I would be facing with my child. After about 6 months the different therapies finally began to integrate. The mood swings were not as wide as before. We were getting somewhere.

Three years later (aka, today) the swings are still present. The mood swings look different and are evolving with my son, but they are always there. Someday, I hope everything will integrate for my child, but for now we handle the swings and the progress that they bring us.

The Mighty Schedule

The Mighty Schedule

I've started to wonder which came first, the mighty schedule or the inflexible child? Alright, I know that my son was born inflexible whereas my daughter is much more normal in her ability to handle change but still I wonder, does our inflexible schedule make my son worse?

One day I needed to travel the 4 hours to see my mother in law (who lives here now) and my husband was to pick the kids up after school and a brief stint in after-care. My son threw a terrible tantrum and refused to go to school. His reason? Mom was supposed to pick him up, not dad. I did my trip on the upcoming Saturday instead without any problems, but that was the day I started to wonder, was I making my inflexible son worse?

I always walk my children to school. I always pick them up. I always stand in the same place on the playground. I've done this to cut down on the separation anxiety and build confidence but my son now seems to think that I am the only one who can perform these tasks. Earlier this week I sent my husband to pick up the kids without me. My son was ANGRY. “Where is mom!” he demanded. “I don't want you. I want mom!”. After this I was positive, I am making my son worse.

This week I'll be starting a program of inconsistency. I will stand in different parts of the playground. We will be both late and early to school. (Ok, not too late.) We will walk with the children in the neighborhood and walk without them and I will handle the resulting meltdowns.

Never in my life have I heard of a parent having to teach their child how to be flexible but I think this is turning out to be one of the most important lessons that my son will learn. I also think it will be one of the hardest.

Wish me luck.

ps. Tonight is night #3 without melatonin. Last night it was 1:45 until sleep. Tonight, I just don't know.

The Mother In Law

Oct 26, 2010

The Mother In Law

From the title alone you might wonder what this post has to do with adoption or special needs children. It doesn't. Feel free to skip this blog if your not interested in the rest of our family dynamics.

My MIL moved to the area this past weekend. Well, moved might be too strong of a word. We have coerced her into a 'rehab facility', code word for assisted living. For the last 18 months the doctors have been telling her time and again that she cannot live alone. She has been informing us that she can live alone just fine. It's been a tough 18 months for all of us.

After each fall or each breathing attack (she is on oxygen 24 hrs a day) she would inform us all that she was fine, could take care of herself, did not need a caregiver, did not want meals on wheels, did not want anything. Then as her family we would sit back and watch her deteriorate over the next 6 - 8 weeks, waiting for the next fall or ER visit. Ask me how I spent every holiday last year? It was horrible.

This most recent fall was the worst. It entailed broken ribs, bruised knees and a banged up head. A friend took her to the ER where MIL insisted that she was fine and checked herself out that night. The next day she was back in the ER due to the pain. 6 weeks of rehab and she was ready to be released from the nursing home. Where would she go? Home, of course.

Not this time. We have told her that she has to do additional rehab and have brought her the 200 miles to be closer to us. Being sharp as a tack, she knows we're lying but is unsure what to do. In her mind she knows she can't live alone but she wants to so she resists staying. She has been here for 3 days. On day 2 she packed in the morning because 'aren't you taking me home today?'. We unpacked again. In the evening of day 2 she asked for trashbags to pack her belongings in because 'we're going home this weekend, right?'. No again. At the same time, she can't stand long enough to make a cup of coffee without a fear of falling down. While opening the fridge, she cut herself and bled terribly. Luckily, a nurse was at the facility.

For the last 18 months the family has known that MIL was a danger to herself and was consistently making poor health choices. Everything from refusing to have food delivered when she was not strong enough to cook herself to refusing to take her medication. We have run the gamut. During this time we have all looked for advice and help on how to get MIL to let us help or get her help. Never once did I find the answer 'force the issue, make her move'.

We did force the issue. We did make her move. We won't take her back. We also feel like dog crap for doing it. But interestingly, after we did this people have come out of the woodwork to tell us their own personal stories like this. How they had to force an aunt or father or other loved one into a nursing home or assisted living facility. Two and three years after the fact you can still see the hurt on their face and in their voice when they talk about the abuse heaped upon them for making their loved one get help.

So far, we're doing better than that but I'm sure the big guns will come out soon. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'll get the brunt of her anger because as the daughter-in-law she can't hurt me nearly as much as she can hurt her son. I hope that she settles in and likes where she is staying. I hope that I can use my cute children and cute dog to cut into her resistance. Only time will tell.

Bedtime, bedtime, how I hate thee, bedtime

Tonight is a mixed bag for bedtime. My son typically takes 1 mg of melatonin an hour before bedtime. This helps him transition into sleep very, very easily. Melatonin has been a god-send for our family. My son has a history of very bad sleep habits dating back to babyhood. He doesn't seem to be able to slow down his thinking enough to fall asleep. This lack of sleep has caused some really bad stuff over the years. We've gone through the hallucination phases, the schizo – like phases and the out of control, kicking out windows phases. In retrospect I can attribute all of our really, really scary times to a lack of sleep on his part.

Enter melatonin a few months ago. Now, my son still has a lot of issues and tantrums and rages but he actually sleeps at night again. This is great for his mental health and is amazing for mine. However, I've recently started to worry about his ability to sleep without the medication and for some unknown reason, I decided that tonight was the night to test out 'sleeping without medicine'. *sigh So, we have had a perfect night. Supper was fantastic, then straight to bubble baths and homework, looking at photo albums, into bed and a small story from mom. No better evening exists for us. Of course tonight there is a problem. No melatonin and so far, no sleep.

I give my son high marks and massive credit, there has been no meltdown. He has wiggled around his room, read a book in the dark and tried to re-hang some pictures... quietly. He is laying in bed, doing his best while I sit outside his door and hope that he will sleep. It's been 42 minutes now. Not really a lot in the grand scheme of things. Problem is, now is when the doubt starts in.

Should I have given him the medicine? Should I have given him half a pill? Would a lavender scented bath have worked better? Should I have a rum and coke now or later? Or both?

The hardest part of being the mom (and the dad for some of you) is the second guessing. What if, what if, what if! I can ask this question 100 times in a day. How could I have been a better parent, a smarter parent, more loving or more firm? What could I have done different to make everything alright for my child. Some days I exhaust myself on this question and I have to work very hard to give myself a break.

I also have to remember to give my son a break. He is also doing the best that he can. If tonight is not successful, then another night will be. If he cannot make it without medication, then he will make it with medication. Together we will find the right solution, the right answer. It will not be the 'pie in the sky' that I want, but it will be enough. And sometimes you get what you need.

So tonight, I am sitting in the hallway, sipping a rum and coke and silently encouraging my son to sleep. One way or another, we'll be alright.

 

ps.  73 minutes until sleep.  What a great night!

The Birthmom

I planned to tell you about my Mother In Law who moved to the area today. Health-wise, it has been a very rocky year and we have tricked her into moving into an assisted living facility near us. I promise to come back to this topic very soon, but instead, we will be discussing 'the birthmom'.

In our house my childrens' birth family has been a topic since day one. During all of our homestudies and course work it was pounded into our head that it was important to acknowledge the birth family and to let our children express their thoughts and opinions. We agreed wholeheartedly... of course, it's easy to agree when they are 8 months old and hard to ignore when they have a different skin color.

When my son was 3, the birth family became a very big topic. My son started to draw pictures of me with him in my belly. He was shy and embarrassed about it. He explained to me that he knew it wasn't real but that he just wanted to pretend. My comment... 'shouldn't you draw your twin sister in there too?' He immediately drew her in and was in love with this picture. There were several more pictures of me with a big belly and two babies.

At age 4 my son wanted to know how babies were made and born. Thank you so much to friends for these answers. 'Babies are made when a mommy and a daddy do a special hug which creates a baby' and, heaven help me this was the best answer 'There is a hole that opens up on a woman's bottom between the poop spot and the pee spot. This is where the baby comes out.' Do you know how many times my son yelled 'mom's poop out babies, ew!' in some completely inappropriate place? Come to think of it, there is no appropriate place.

Minor questions about birthmoms sprinkled the 3's, 4's and 5's for my son. He also felt a need to tell everyone. 'Hi. I was born in Guatemala. My birthmom still lives there. She's brown too. Can I have a sticker?' The checkout lady was speechless. I'm not sure which I felt more, an overwhelming desire to laugh or pity for her confused look.

Throughout all of these questions and these years of inquiry from my son, my daughter has never asked anything. She has never commented. She has never seemed to care... until tonight. Tonight, while watching Planet Earth for the billionth time while we settle down for bed, my daughter started to cry. She told me that she missed her birthmom. Could we go back to Guatemala to see her? I asked what she would say when she saw her. My daughter answered 'I would just hug her. I miss her so much.' And I picked up my daughter and hugged her because it was all that I could do.

For years our therapist and adoption websites and newsgroups have tried to explain the grief that adopted children feel for everything they have lost, even if it happened before they were old enough to truly remember. I've worked with my son on so many issues that this grief is simply part of the fabric of everything else going on with him, but to be blindsided by the grief that my daughter expressed to me today made me realize how powerful of an emotion it is for my children and how difficult it must be for them. I feel sad and lost for my daughter but as her mother I know that I must be the strong one. I held her and rocked her through this first of what I suspect will be many such episodes over the years.

Nobody Said Being a Mother would be THIS hard.

Ok, so I understand that being a mom can be a pretty tough job. You're the good guy and the bad guy every single day. It's great that I get to make the majority of the decisions in the house, but really, most days, I'd rather pass.

Today was not a stellar day. The morning started with blue skies and singing birds... ok, maybe a bit dramatic, but all was well with Son, my early riser. There were cartoons coupled with the morning nebulizer treatment. Daughter awoke and joined us. Breakfast was simply uneventful. Now enter homework.

Now, I realize that some of you are wondering what homework is doing in the morning hours. Yes, I had not had enough coffee yet to help with complex algebra but luckily I have two first graders and I know how to spell 'sing' without a lot of effort. Also as an early riser Son prefers homework in the morning.

Anyway, enter homework and Son. Within 15 minutes we have escalated from 'where are the pencils' to screaming 'my teacher said I didn't have to do this line'. I cave to the screams. Don't do the line, just do the rest. Not good enough. My son has become 'stuck'. No level of agreement will convince him to move forward with homework, to skip homework, to get dressed. Nothing. It is my fault. I have done this to him. I am a terrible mother.

Really, I'm unsure why there is a ban on alcohol at 8:00am.

Progress another 15 minutes and Son is throwing things at the walls and threatening. If you have never been in this situation, thank your lucky stars and run far from this blog. This is not a flowers and sunshine blog, this is a blog of our life. The good, the bad and the very, very bad.

Back to throwing... I've called our therapist for help while my son destroys my bedroom. Pillows can be kicked and thrown. It simply isn't important. After speaking to Son, Therapist says 'he's not out of control, dress him and take him to school'. This may sound like harsh advice, but Therapist is right and I recognize the ring of truth in her words.

Screaming all the way, I walk my son the 3 blocks to school and hand him over to the teacher who is ready for this. I walk away.

My day has begun.

My Crazy Life In the Mix

Welcome to my crazy life. I'm the mom of twins who are almost 7. They were adopted from Guatemala at the young age of 8 months. My son is 'in the mix'. He is currently diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) and Attachment Disorder, sometimes called Anxious Attachment and has been recommended for evaluation for Pediatric Bipolar Disorder, ADHD, Separation Anxiety and possibly OCD in addition to asthma which sends us to the ER frequently. My daughter has no diagnosis at all. She is a thriving 6 year old who is handling a pretty tough family life. I'm mom... a little bit crazy and a little bit stressed, but still here.

This is a blog about our life, ups and downs and all of the twists in between. Grab a drink and read on.

• Mom of Two