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.

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.

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?

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