The Crossroads

The Crossroads

We are hitting the cross roads of transition problems and separation anxiety coupled with some control issues.  Whew, what a mess.  My son has a problem with transitions.  He always has but as he has matured he has been better able to handle the normal, every day transitions of school vs. home vs. going out to eat.  Most people will read that last statement and think, 'ah, yes, I remember when little johnny wouldn't come out of the McDonalds play area and would scream like a banshee when it was time to go'.  Now take that
same thought and put in on a six year old who needs to go to school or a playdate or just to bed.  Separation is very hard on my little boy.  He is getting much, much better but things like the end and beginning of school are particularly tough for him.

For us, the end result of a transition battle is a separation anxiety problem.  I have just thown a HUGE tempertantrum over the end of a playdate and now I need to see my mommy. Not only see her but touch her and hold her and be with her ... only not really... because attachment disorder says that she cannot handle my dispair and I must take care of myself so I must scream and push her away.

Getting the picture yet?

Tonight we had another tornado of transition, separation and control issues.  A tornado is my best description because I really cannot figure out where one starts and the other begins.  It is just crazy here.  It is the end of the school year so I expect this but expecting it is not the same as living through it.  I worry that my son will never learn how to control this storm of emotions inside of him.  I think we need professional advice again.  Luckily, I can still go back to our therapist to get advice.  She doesn't have a magic wand but she does have a lot more experience than I do.  She has a lot of ideas.

Fingers crossed.  We will make it to summer.

The Blue Chair

The Blue Chair

Today, we graduated to the blue chair.

Ok, this might not sound exciting to many people but for me it is cause for celebration.  My son asked me today 'will you be outside the door or in the blue chair'.  I am in the blue chair.  See, the blue chair is downstairs, not outside my son's second story bedroom door.  The blue chair is in front of the t.v.  The blue chair is freedom. 

If I am in the blue chair I can talk on the phone without worrying so much that my children are listening.  If I'm in the blue chair I can run to the kitchen really fast.  If I'm in the blue chair, I am one BIG step further away from my son.  I am in the blue chair.

In the past year I have seen my son progress so much.  He is working hard on becoming independent.  He works on picturing me at home or in the car.  He is working on feeling safe and confident.  He is doing great.

He is doing great, but the blue chair... the blue chair is amazing.

The Matriarch

The Matriarch

Today it occurred to me that I may be the matriarch of my family.  Yep, the matriarch.  I may need a stiff shot of whiskey to handle this.  When my children were littler and struggling with attachment disorder they would work very hard to play my husband and I against each other.  Now, some of this is normal but AD means pushing everything past normal.  Fed up with this I told my children that I was 'the head of the family' that I fact 'I owned everything.  I own the house, the toys, the food, the children.  Everything!'.  My son, always searching for the crack in every bit of logic answered 'you don't own daddy'.  To which I replied, 'yes, I do.  I own everything in the world, including daddy.  I am the head of the family.'

Anyone reading this will recognize that I don't own the world and anyone who knows my husband will recogize that I don't own him.  We're an obnoxiously equal couple; however, my four year old son did not understand this and howled like the end of the world had arrived at our doorstep.  Fights from this point forward centered on me, the head of the family.  My husband was often (but not always) given a pass on the screaming and tantrums because the main push was to dethrone the head of the family, me.

Over time this proved to be one of the smartest things I have ever said to my kids.  When my son was smaller, he focused all of his rage on me.  It wasn't fun but as the mom I was going to get it anyway.  Taking some of it away from my husband gave my son someone to turn to when times were rough.  After all both he and daddy were under the thumb of a repressive dictator.  My daughter quietly examined all of these interactions and then one day announced that she too would be the head of her family.  I smiled.  Then I
explained to her that whatever parent stayed at home was the head of the family and that there were many responsibilities with the position.  She still thinks it's pretty cool.

But I believe I might have become 'The Matriarch' today.  This is not a position that I sought and frankly, I don't want it but it appears to be mine.  With the addition of my MIL to our little family I have stepped up.

Over the last several months I have taken over the bill paying for two households.  I am first point of contact for MIL's doctors.  I am recognized at our local ER.  I am also the one who has to solve the strange problems like... MIL accidently set her microwave on fire and I have to explain to her why she cannot have it back.  Or... the conversation with MIL on why she must take a shower. 

On the other hand, I think I get this title mostly because I don't want it.  When MIL told me that she didn't want to take her medication, I told her to discuss the issue with her doctor and I would back her up 100%.  This scared her (something I didn't foresee) and we haven't discussed it again.  With my son I explain to him that he is in charge of his asthma issues, his medication, his sensory problems.  My job is to help him and to teach him how to handle the problems.  My son has grown so much because I know he is old
enough and smart enough to handle this. 

I've come to realize that being The Matriarch is the easiest and hardest position in the world.  My job is to trust everyone to do their jobs while watching to see that no one drops the ball.  It's a lot of stress and a lot of worry and very little action on my part.

Oh, What a Normal Night

Oh, what a normal night!

I don't often feel like I get to write about normal nights. Today wasn't totally uneventful. After going to bed late last night, my children got up at midnight to celebrate the new year. My husband was in charge of this event and all three of them had a great time watching fireworks in the sky and saying “hi” to neighbors. Our little poppers were just the icing on the cake.

The kids did a good job sleeping in this morning but today was a day packed full of places for us to be. Not always the best for us even when we've had sleep. An hour long drive to the city netted a nap for my daughter but my son was having none of it. We had a very successful visit and lunch out. All still good.

On our way home we picked up grandma for a visit to our house. The noise level definitely took a step up with the kids jumping off of the bunk beds on the second floor but all was well.

Then, grandma left. *sigh*

Homework was ok, which is really the best it ever is in our house. But somehow mom cooked the pasta wrong and 9+4 really is 14 if only mom would wake up and realize it. What a meltdown... only, you know what? It was a normal meltdown. It was the meltdown of a sleepy, sleepy child who could not be made happy. My baby was just so tired that nothing was right in the world. After 15 minutes of tantrum we corrected our homework and accepted mom's terrible pasta for dinner.

I can't tell you how happy I am. I know it sounds strange but my son has never thrown a normal tantrum before. Can he really be growing out of so many of his problems? Heavens, I hope so.

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!

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.

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.