seriously?

I have blogged a couple times about my 16 year old FAS and RAD child's paraprofessional. She is not appropriate most of the time. I have dealt with her for 4 years now because changing her will cause more issues for him than I care to deal with. This will likely be her last year with him so I am gritting my teeth and dealing. Each time I have an issue it is dealt with and I think it will get better, until the next issue of course . . .

Here is a bit of our issues with her in the past : she has called him "son", she has told him he could come live with her if we are mean, she has encouraged him to get a drivers license (his IQ is under 50), she has convinced him he can go to college to become a veterinarian, she allowed military recruiters to speak to him at school. He is in an Moderately Mentally Handicapped program. One of the teachers last year had her number and was irritated with her. Unfortunately that teacher is not here this year :(

Last night he came home with a love note from a classmate. When I asked him about the girl he said, "Mrs. M said I needed a girlfriend so she got me one." After talking to him I asked him how he read the note, he said Mrs. M read it to him and helped him write one to her. He also said that she kissed him in lunch and Mrs. M let him hold her hand in the hall. He said that she thought it was cute.

This is a child with attachment issues. This is a child who acts out sexually in our home. This is a child who is NOT READY for this type of behavior and I will not condone it! I wrote an email to his Teacher of Record and I got a response that said he "investigated" and doesn't think Mrs. M had any idea. That is a load of crap! I sent an email back that was not super kind saying she had an idea and it needs to be stopped.

Last night he was obsessed with his penis, gee I wonder why? I am not putting up with this junk from the school. I am telling you I will have her job if this continues. This mama is pissed.

the perfect storm

How can one go from having a great time to feeling like a failure in one day? Today I have had the perfect storm . . .

My child was horrid last night. He was up about 40 times from about 3:00am to the time we gets up at 7:45 am. No lie. We have an alarm system on his door so every time he came out ofhis room the alarm blew right in my ear. First it was that he needed a drink. Then he had to go to the bathroom every 10 minutes (which is his new lie of choice to not follow directions). Then he was hungry, then it was time for his bus (it was still dark out). I think he just wanted to reak havoc on the house. I got next to no sleep from 3:00 am on.

My husband is sick. He has some sort of viral infection that he cannot shake. He has been doing a bit better, but last night was rough! He was vomiting and moaning most of the early morning. I am certain the stress of my child constantly coming out of his room was adding to it. I am fairly certain that my daughter and I have the same virus, but it has hit him harder than us. I have not had ONE day in 4 weeks where I was not doubled over with stomach pain for a portion of my day. It sucks. Eating is not fun, and I love to eat!

I am just plain tired of hobbling around on my hurt leg. It is heavy and painful and I am just done.

My mom is in a MOOD today. She is grouchy because we are short staffed at work and everything seems to be my fault today. When she is like this it is a MAJOR trigger for me. She was unhappy with the way we dealt with some of my son's behaviors yesterday at a cookout and now I am on her shit list. She is being very short with me and that triggers me big time. I am a pleaser and I don't like making people mad (unless they deserve it LOL). I hate myself when she is mad at me. I feel useless and unimportant. I know I give her too much power, but we have always had a tenuous relationships until several years ago. Each time she does this it reminds me of how it was like before.

My van is broken and I have no idea what is wrong. I stress abuot money and this is going to be a major inconvenience. Holy crap, I cannot even think about it.

So I am on the verge of tears today. My stomach hurts and I want to crawl in a hole and die. I have not felt like this in some time. I had been doing so well. I am certain it will pass, but the uncertainty and the stress is making me crazy. I want to take some time and nap tonight. I rarely do that, but I feel like I really need it before I crack. The problem is with him being sick and a busy weekend that passed my house is a wreck and I have so much laundry to do.

Whine, whine, whine.

kindred

My kindred spirit came to my town this weekend. (we met a couple weeks ago in Chicago) She traveled here with her kids and we had a fabulous weekend doing not much of anything. Last night, I stayed at her hotel for a bit while my husband took the kids home to get ready for bed. He told me I could stay and chat for awhile, but when I got home I knew he was upset. He really wasn't much upset that I got to spend time with her, but that I did not spend time with him.

He said something that was quite touching. When I told him that I had very few friends who I connected with and said, "She is the first person who truly gets me", I hurt his feelings. He said, "I get you." And he does. I have shared my struggles with suicidal thoughts and depression with him. He understands living this life because he lives it with me. But it is not his battle.

I know he gets me, but she understands me because she has the same feelings, the same issues and many of the same demons to battle. It is different. Although we have lived separate lives, unknown to one another for many years, we have taken very similar paths. I adore her as though I have known her for years, not merely months.

I love my husband with my whole heart. He is my rock. He and the kids are the reason I keep fighting. . . but sometimes it is good to have a kindred spirit.

the blogess

I read this today on this post from the Bloggess and I LOVED it.

Life passes. Then comes the depression. The feeling that you’ll never be right again. The fear that these outbreaks will become more familiar, or worse, never go away. You’re so tired from fighting that you start to listen to all the little lies your brain tells you. The ones that say that you’re a drain on your family. The ones that say that it’s all in your head. The ones that say that if you were stronger or better this wouldn’t be happening to you. The ones that say that there’s a reason why your body is trying to kill you, and that you should just stop all the injections and steroids and drugs and therapies.

Today, as Victor drove me home so I could rest, I told him that sometimes I felt like his life would be easier without me. He paused and said, “It might be easier, but it wouldn’t be better.”

These days are the darkest. But I know they will pass. I know that tomorrow things will seem a little brighter. I know that next week I’ll look back on this post and think, “I should stop listening to my brain when it’s trying to kill me. Why did I even write that post?” And that’s precisely why I’m writing this. Because it’s so easy to forget that I’ve been here before and come out the other side, and perhaps if I have this to read I’ll remember it again next time and it will help me to keep on breathing until the medications take hold and I’m out of the hole again.

Because quitting might be easier, but it wouldn’t be better.

self image

It is odd to me that as much as I struggle with self esteem at times, I have a decent time dealing with what I look like on the outside. There are plenty of things I don't like about myself, I hate my smile, my teeth are awful and my weight is double what I was when I got married. But I never really stress about those things. I have no idea why.

While I am quite large, I am pretty darn active. With the exception of soda, I think I eat fairly well and I eat decent portions. My blood pressure is always perfect and my cholesterol is normal. I don't particularly like the image I see in the mirror, but I look at it as who I am. There isn't much changing it. I like my food dang it. I have never had too much will power to begin with. Now, I am not saying I would not love to lose some weight, but truly it is not that pressing to me.

I think it boils down to this: I am who I am and if you don't like it tough, you don't have to participate in my life.

I know it is not that simple for some people. I understand. I don't fault them for that. We all have our own demons to deal with, but truly it breaks my heart when someone hates who they are because of how they look. There are far too many good people in this world who look at you for who you are and love you anyway, unfortunately the jerks are the ones who cause the pain. I've been on the receiving line of that pain and it sucks. I try my best to shrug it off and say screw 'em.

I typically hate seeing pictures of me. A few years back I realized, this is the face people see everyday, who cares if it is captured by a camera or not. I don't stress about it anymore, but I usually don't like seeing them. There are a handful of pictures of myself I like. I ADORE my wedding photos. I was shocked at how well they turned out and how beautiful I looked. It was the first time I ever saw myself as beautiful. I have always thought they turned out so well because I was so very happy that is showed! There a couple with each children as babies that I love and some from a family photo shoot last fall. These are my babies and in these pictures I am happy and proud of my family and it shows. The last few pictures I love are ones I have from this weekend. I was sweaty and hot, but you can see the pure happiness on my face from being with a kindred spirit. I think I look wonderful. These pictures are all so special to me because they don't just show the "outside" me, but the inside, the important part, is obviously shining through and at these times the inside was happy and it showed. I think I need to let her out more often!

I know someone right now who is really struggling. They are amazing, wonderful and kindhearted. I wish they could see past what they hate about their exterior and see what I see. I see a gorgeous woman with so much kindness and love. I see a beautiful, nurturing mother who loves her children beyond measure. I see a sweet soul who cares about those she loves more than she does herself. I don't see a size, I see a friend. I don't see someone who is broken, I see someone who needs to feel loved. I see someone who needs to see what I see in her.

I know she loves this song and today I changed her ringtone on my phone to this song. It could not be more perfect for the way I feel. (I had never seen this video before today even though I had heard the some numerous times. It made me cry)

blessed beyond measure

This weekend I spent time with another trauma momma family in Chicago. It was stinking amazing to sit in the presence of a family who gets us. One who see’s who we really are and still loves us. Priceless.

When I started blogging I had no idea that I would hook up with other women who were dealing with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, Reactive Attachment Disorder or all the various diagnosis in our path. I had no clue I would not only find my community, but life long friends. I had no idea I would travel 3 hours to hug the neck of a Soul Sister.

This momma and I share so many things. I cannot imagine living the rest of my life without her in it. I am so glad I don’t have to any longer.

ruff

As bad as it sounds, my husband and I have noticed that our son's behavior and his actions remind of us of a dog's behavior. Here is why:

When he gets something in his head, there is no changing his mind. It is like a terrier who wants to dig!

He stares at others while they eat, hoping they will offer him some.

He has that flight or fight response when he feels backed into a corner.

If something moves outside he is instantly looking out the window and telling us about it.

If there is a storm moving in, he panics and refuses to step away from the window.

Runs to the door when someone knocks or rings the bell. Hollering "Someone's here!" the whole way.

And of course, he "barks" for no apparent reason except for hearing himself roar a lot of the time.

As much as I find this humorous, I am being somewhat serious. I don't know if it is his early trauma combined with his inability to understand social cues, but something about him makes him seem like a feral dog sometimes. Oddly enough we have found that he responds better if he channel our inner "DogWhisperer" and approach him in a calm assertive manner and show him that we are the pack leader. It works far better than entering into a power struggle.