long time no see

It has been awhile since I posted. Life has exploded into ugliness from the FAS child. It has been rough. The good news is the funk that drew me in a bit more than a week ago is gone. I worked hard and I clawed my way out of it. The husband has been better. I have been better. It is good.

I think God knew I could take no more. I had some very kind comments from friends who had no idea what I was going through. I had a few online friends contact me and give me some fabulous words of wisdom. I really needed that. It was a lifeline.

Today the oldest came home from school (he is in an MoMh all inclusive classroom). He was very disturbed and refused the food that was put in front of him. That never happens. The child will eat poop on a stick. (our running joke) I had to run an errand so I took him with me. He immediately told me that a boy in school showed him a "very innapwopwiate picture". I asked what it was and he said, "It was a girl with no pants and one with a boy who had his penis in a girl's butt"

Holy Lord. I nearly wrecked the car.

Recall that he is a 6 year old in the body of a 16 year old.

Yikes!

We had a talk about parts. I explained that girl's have another part that boys don't and that is where the penis goes. You really should've seen his face. I nearly pee'd myself. I needed to explain because he was sexually molested in our house by another foster child. I needed him to know that is not typical. He then said, "Can we please stop talking about this?"

Holy cow. I really should've had that talk sooner, but it had not been necessary.

broken

The depression is settling in. It feels like it has a grip on my heart. My chest is heavy. I feel like I will never smile again. I want to cry at everything. I drove to get lunch this afternoon and I saw a big hole where they were working on the street. I wondered what it would be like to just drive into that deep hole.

I know I will be fine. I always am. The problem is that each and every time I go through this I feel like I leave a piece of me behind. I feel like I have to give up on something that means something to me just to be what others want from me. I will change what I believe to make sure I am doing it the right way.

Problem is, I feel like things that matter to me are being pushed aside.

I'm not saying I want to be the asshole he thinks I am, I am just saying that I want what I think to be important. I want to feel loved and cherished, but I am wondering if there is something broken in me that I can't feel it even if it is there.

hard

When I started this blog, the anonymity was a draw. I felt like if only one person knew who I was it would be easier to say what I needed to. Then I brought some of you into that circle, and now it is difficult to say what I want.

Why? I don't really "know" you. I haven't looked you in the face. But I feel like I do. Today is a day that I really need to vent and express my feelings and figure out where they are coming from, but it is hard when people see this side of you and the other side that you publicly put out there. But I have to get this out . . . it may not make any sense, but I feel like if I don't it could get ugly really fast.

Today I would like to be done with life. I would like to just lay down and die. It's hard. Being a mother is hard. Being a mother who is constantly having to argue with her kids is even harder.

My two littlest children have no sense of respect for adults. They are the kids who hold it together for the most part in school. They do pretty well in being appropriate when they "have" to be. For me, they are awful. They do not do anything the first time they are asked. It could be something as simple as, "Hey bud, pull your pants up." They just refuse to do what they are told. At just under ten years old this is no longer cute to me. This is disrespectful and rude.

My personality is one of "fixing". If there is an issue, I want to fix it. I will do what it takes to fix it NOW. I want it to stop and I will be firm until it is better. The husband is one of those people who try to get them to fix it by making jokes and trying to get them to do it in a round about way. I don't think that is teaching them to be respectful, I believe that is teaching them to find a "out". It is allowing them to be disrespectful as long as they are funny about it. (This may not make any sense to you at all, but I need to try to explain)

So what happens? I am an asshole in their eyes and he is the funny, joking daddy. They tell me they hate me often. I spend a few days a week driving them to school with my son kicking my seat telling me he hates me. Why? Because I had the nerve to tell him to hurry, or to buckle his seat belt in a harsh voice because I had already asked 5 times, or God only knows what else I was firm about. My daughter never wants to leave daycare at night and yells at me telling me she hates me or I am stupid. It is tiring. It is hard. It is heartbreaking.

I understand parents are not always liked by their kids. I get that. I am okay with that. But it seems the more he gives in, the more I am hated. I am tired of being the bad guy. This is compounded by the fact that he rarely sees their behavior in public. I run most of our errands after picking them up from daycare. I am the one seeing their horrendous behavior in the store. I am the one seeing how they react to me when I tell then to stop spinning in the aisles of a store hitting people who are walking by. I am the one constantly being argued with and screamed at. I see how they are developing a nasty attitude and rotten behaviors in public. I am the one embarrassed by their antics in public, he is not. He can tickle them and change their mood when I ask them to get their pajamas on for the 16th time. He is the fun daddy and I am the mean mommy.

It is getting to me. Today I lost it and began telling him how I felt. It was not pretty. I was frustrated and angry. I sad mean things to him. He said mean things back. He told me that they basically treat me like an ass because I am one. He said I don't allow them to be children. That is probably true, but I am trying to be firm and constant to change the monsters that we have allowed them to become. It just stung hearing it.

Couple all that with the anxiety I am always feeling and the depression that comes with being tired and feeling like a failure and I would just rather walk away and die instead of being the bad, mean mother. I have been working later, the oldest has been REALLY doing poorly and the husband has not been helping with the chores as much as I would like. His natural response when the oldest is doing poorly is to sleep, so he has been taking the time while I am a work and the oldest is at school to sleep which makes me more angry because I would LOVE to spend all day in bed.

It has all put me over the edge and when I get pushed over the edge, my natural instinct is wishing I would die. For the last few weeks I have been struggling with even wanting to leave work and go home, so this just makes it worse. I will say that I have resisted the urge to self harm this go 'round. I have not wanted to pull hair or scratch my arms. I have not done any head banging, I have just done lots of crying and shutting down. I suppose that is something.

The husband truly is a good man. he is loving and caring. he doesn't want the kids to be angry at him. He wants to be the fun daddy. His position is that if he gets them to do what I want them to it is all good. My position is that they are feeling like they got something over on me. I suppose we are both right in one way or another. I just wish he could back me up in front of them. I wish he could help me get them to be more respectful and obedient. They are not cute little ones anymore, they are kids who really should know better. There is a balance there, I just can't find it. Apparently I suck.

The one fault I think he has in all of this is that he doesn't respond like I think he should (or would want to) when I tell him where I am emotionally. If I had a spouse tell me that they wished they were dead, I would hope that my response would not be to tell them they have created this themselves. I would like it if he would sympathize with me. I suppose he does not think I would ever act on it (which I don't think I would) but I need to feel loved and appreciated. I want him to make me feel differently. I want him to tell me that would be a mistake. I don't want to be yelled at during this time, I want to be made to feel like I am essential to this family. I want him to make the feeling of wanting to die go away. Why is that so hard to understand?

Tomorrow will be better. It always is. Heck, perhaps I will feel differently in an hour. I will succeed at stuffing it down and dealing with it internally. Things will go right back to where they are and I will just be the bad person, I am used to that. But right now, it hurts and I just want the pain to go away. I want the thoughts of "If they hate me they would be better off without me" to be gone forever.

I don't really want to hear, "If they hate you, perhaps it's your fault."

so glad for gut feelings

I would really like to post this on my other blog, but I think this needs a little more confidentiality, so I decided to put it here. Truth be told, I probably shouldn't blog it at all, but I really need to purge this from my head and I need to use it for reference. So, here goes.

My oldest with FAS has had to be very close to an adult at all times lately due to some issues with leaving our property unsupervised. Last night I used him as a helper at an event at my work. He was FABULOUS. He was very helpful and took direction very well. It was a good 2 hours of work and he was darn near perfect. Tonight my boss asked him to help once again for another event and he dressed up in a costume. He was wonderful except for a few instances of not listening. He earned $25 for his work. He was excited to spend it on a video game tomorrow.

We came home and I asked him to help me with some yard work to earn a few more dollars. He got into an argument with the 2 younger children and took his sister's chalk that she got for Easter and began throwing it on the house next door, breaking it. I distracted him with a job and he did okay. They left with dad to get some dinner to bring home and we kept working. I asked him to go through the house and unlatch the back gate. Normally he does really well with this type of chore and I tell him I am going to count to a certain number and he tries to beat me. This keeps him from dinking around and makes him think only about hurrying instead of getting into something he shouldn't be in.

Tonight I gave him til 15. I usually don't really count until I see him and then I let him "beat me". I was trimming the bushes and was a bit sidetracked. I realized he was taking too long. I turned off the trimmer and heard our bigger dog barking a very odd bark. She rarely barks and when she does it's not very loud. This was a frightened bark. I hollered for the oldest and he did not come. I almost continued working thinking he was simply guzzling milk out of the jug, but something was nagging at me. I turned the trimmer back on and then decided I really should rely on my gut and I tossed it down and hurried into the house. I opened the front door and tripped. What did I trip over? A pair of scissors sticking through the rug and into the linoleum floor. I tripped over them, and they were so stuck they were still standing up. I immediately surveyed the area and saw 3 more pairs of scissors tossed around, the kitchen broom, a large pen, and a jump rope. I knew right away that the oldest was trying to hurt the dogs.

I wanted to blow up and start screaming. I was afraid that if I did I would not be able to stop. My pups are my babies. It is my job to protect them and he was trying to cause them serious harm. I was eerily calm. It had to be God because I have no idea how I stayed so in control. I asked him what he was doing and told him I wanted truth the first answer. He said, "Trying to kill the dogs". Holy Lord. I asked him why and I got about 5 answers from, the typical "I was mad" to "I miss my cat when I was little".

I am really not sure what the reason was, but I truly believed he was trying to kill the dogs. My husband got home and I sent the smaller children away so we could talk to the oldest together. The husband had no idea why I was so calm. He was dumbfounded. I was to! I think it scared the stink out of the oldest, which was a really good thing.

The husband and I talked later and we both find it interesting that as soon as he does something well, that includes a bit of freedom or is a bit more age appropriate he turns around and gives us a whopper of disobedience. I don't understand it. Is it RAD? Is it him bucking the restraints of his supervision because he has a bit of freedom? Is he self-sabotaging? I don't get it.

I am sad. I protect the younger kids from him. I keep him very close, constantly supervised. I don't know what more I can do. Each time I try to give him some slack, it backfires.

By the way, he is spending his earnings on new chalk for his sister and really nice treats for the dogs, NOT a game. Anything left over will go in the bank.

medication

I am sure if I searched this blog for the term "medication" I would find a blog post or maybe two that echo what I am going to say here. Since this blog is primarily for me to vent, I need to say it again for myself and maybe for you to hear.

My daughter has begun a new tic. These tics are typically based in her OCD behavior. I have noticed that she typically picks a behavior and gets obsessed with it, then she tends to relax and it fades until another one takes it place. We have gone through hair chewing, a mouth movement, clicking her teeth, hand movements and now the dreaded throat clearing noise. She makes this noise roughly every 6 seconds. Holy Lord it drives me nuts! I have tried not bringing attention to it, but I cannot let it go. It is quite distracting and very annoying. I have even gone so far as to suggest she fidget with her hands if she feels the need to do something over and over again. I cannot imagine how distracting it is in school for her peers.

While I do not think that raising medication is the answer, I an very thankful for medication during times like this. I know that my OCD tends to "rev up" for no expolainable reason and I need to double medicate. The doctor knows that I do this, and has okay'd it. Usually it only takes 3 days or so of this in order to get back on track. I am hoping this will help this time for her.

There are times that I think about taking her off medication and offering some skills that will help her when she is dysregualted. There are times that I feel like maybe she is too young to be on 2 psychotropic drugs and I am taking the easy way out. There are those times where I feel like she has calmed enough to be able to work through her frustrations and rages about things not going as she had planned them (through her OCD) and that she can make it without medication.

Each time I am directed back to being thankful that she is growing up with opportunities that I never had. She is growing up with the ability to feel at peace in her own body due to those very meds. She is growing up will medication that will help her understand that there is better ways of controlling her impulses and that she has been successful in that. She is growing up understanding that she is not "bad" and that she is able to function typically like the other kids in her classroom.

Those are the times that I am thankful for a skilled psychiatrist who does not believe in over medicating and who walks a fine line between the disorder and the medication. It is those times that I remember the change in my life from unmedicated to medicated and the joy and peace that came with it. Perhaps that understanding is the most important.

While I believe there is merit in not medicating children who can learn to deal with their disorders, I think not medicating those who cannot is holding them back from what they truly can be. For me, it was freedom.

progress

My daughter is doing very well. Of course we still have our stand-offs, she is still so very stubborn. I am praying that perseverance will do her well in life. I can see her trying really hard. That is good sign. I can see that she is no longer a "slave" to her moods and her impulses, but she is able to fight and control them. I see so much of myself in her.

Today she came back from school and told me that she was on blue. Blue is a referral to the office. Apparently she had been disrespectful all day. (She said her stomach hurt all day. That is not an excuse, simply a reason. This illness thing we have all had is hanging on for dear life. It took me at least a week for my stomach to stop hurting after I was done with the medication.) She was being disruptive in reading time and she was sent to the hallway. She went! That is HUGE progress. In the past she has refused, thrown a fit, toppled desks etc. There is a table outside the door (which has a window next to it) of her classroom. She says she hopped up to sit on the table and it clanked into the window. Her teacher assumed she had tossed it toward the window like she has tossed desks before and was sent to the office. She went without a fit!! They talked and she received ISS (in school suspension) for tomorrow.

I know it sounds ridiculous, but I am so thrilled. She handled herself appropriately. She did not throw a fit and complied with everything they asked of her. I explained to her that although I was not happy she was disrespectful and disruptive, but the way she handled herself this time was great. We talked about how she has reacted in the past, and I pointed out the differences this time in case she did not make the connection. We had a great talk. I did not want her to think that getting on Blue was not an issue, but I wanted to really commend her. I think I found a good balance.

She did NOT want to tell daddy. I told her that we would at dinner, that we do not have secrets. As soon as we got home she asked daddy to come sit down and she told him all by herself. (I had already told him so he would respond in a similar fashion as I did) She said she was sorry and that she knew that even though her stomach hurt, she had to obey. She said, "I will start over fresh tomorrow." It was sweet.

Progress. It's amazing.

tact

I have a real issue with immediately digesting something someone has told me, comparing it to my own issues and judging them. It may pass through my head like "You have no idea how small and minute that is in comparison to other's issues." or "Seriously how dare you bitch about that when there are so many other things to worry about" or "How dare you complain about that, do you know what my life is like?".

I say "pass through my head" because thankfully those comments stay locked away in the ol' brain now. There was a time in my life when they flew out the mouth unhindered. I have always said I am the most tactless person ever. There was a time when I would tell it like I thought it was no matter who it hurt in the process or how it alienated myself. Basically I was a bitch.

While I still have that tendency I can keep it under wraps better than I ever did. Perhaps it's age, perhaps experience, or perhaps I was tired of people thinking I was awful. While I can control the impulse to spew it, I have yet to master the ability to not think it in the first place. It does make me bitter sometimes and it does tend to get me all irritated at people. I am not sure if I will ever learn to stop it, but I have learned to give myself a firm talking to when those nasty things pop into my head and explain that I may not know the whole story.

Sometimes my poor husband bears the brunt of the irritation and gets and earful. Those are the times when I cannot let it go. Thankfully he understands that this is a process and I am trying.

Here is an example: Let's say I have a friend who is a stay at home mom (with neuro-typical kids). She may post on facebook that she got the kids off to school and she is so tired and needs a nap, but she has laundry to do. She moans about her kids not being old enough to do their own laundry. My first thought would be "Wahhh, sorry you can't nap. Some of us who actually work a full day in PUBLIC work would love to lay on the couch and wait for the dryer to ding." See? RUDE. This is not a tru story, I am just trying to show the crap that immediately runs thorugh my head.

What is wrong with me? Do others do this, or am I just a bitch deep down? I don't want you to think I am beating myself up over this, I just wondered do you do this too? Or is it just me?