My RADish was sabbotaging herself.
Yep.
She expired her three days of lovely. Now we begin the 15 day escalation to full on rage.
She started it at 7:25 am screaming and waking up the whole house, "I have to use the restroom!" (she knows that unless it's a school day, we stay in our room until 8:00 and she can't escape unknowingly because it'll trigger the alarm.)
you might argue that the child should be allowed the natural, humane right to urinate. Except that she was able to hold her pee until 8:00. And she wasn't running to the toilet. More like sauntering nonchalantly. Dead ringer for how can I make everyone miserable?
Then the lying.
Followed by the manipulations.
And the bargaining that she'd do what we wanted when we did what SHE wanted.
then the screaming.
Oh, the screaming.
Aspie Boy came in from outdoors. "MOM! You can hear her all the way outside!"
Which made Sissy scream louder.
9:00 a.m.
This after last night's rousing and excited discussion with Sissy that she was just one day of good behaviors away from getting a "green level" status for the week.
And that was where I went wrong.
In what universe is it BAD for a parent to encourage and cheer on a child toward success and a prize?
In the RAD universe.
Silly me, I thought I was on planet Earth last night. I was laboring under the delusion that our celestial sphere orbits the SUN and not Sissy. She gave me a rousing reminder. My ears are still ringing.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
thoughts on the Terminated Russian Adoption
I keep a private blog with screened posting. IntegritySinger is my pseudonym. I've blogged there since 2003.
On April 3rd, I wrote a private post, my thoughts about the difficulties of raising traumatized kids. I keep these types of posts private because many of these thoughts are fleeting emotions that don't propel me toward a choice or a positive direction. But sometimes I just need to pen the crushing emotions, even when I know those words can be hurtful. But this time, in light of the recent travesty about the terminated Russian adoption and the number of times it's been blogged about today with fellow adoptive mom/RAD mom bloggers, I felt the words from my other blog would be poignant. But please do not judge me by these words. Do keep in mind that when I wrote these thoughts, I was attempting to expel a particular emotion in a healthy way.
For the record, as it pertains to the terminated adoption, I do not agree with the way in which the adoptive family handled the crisis they believed they were in as parents of the child. That said, I can empathize with the anguish and fear that may have led them to make the choice of terminating in such an egregious way.
My thoughts from April 3rd on my other blog:
In an adult relationship, if the other partner is abusive, argumentative, derisive, accusatory, non reciprocating, combative, violent, unyielding, oppositional, and then, announces his/her allegiance of love and commitment to another party, then you face the inevitable conclusion, the relationship is dead, it must be terminated. Point of fact, the offending party has terminated the relationship by the very nature of his/her actions and language.
But when the other member in that relationship is a child, it becomes criminal, ethically questionable, amoral and socially viewed as despicable and unconscionable to terminate the relationship. After all, the adult member of the relationship should rise to the occasion and be able to teach the child appropriate relationship behaviors.
Except when they can't, when it becomes impossible to retrain a diseased mind, to correct malformed neural synapses that began in the imprinting stage of infancy or when the mental health professionals themselves all but admit that they are grasping at straws too when they offer their "professional" advice as to how to reteach correct relationship with an damaged child.
Then the new game becomes either dealing with the ignorance of society that doesn't believe a child could be so irreparably damaged or making the conscious effort to toughen one's skin and ignore the anger and jeering from adult peers and consequently, terminate those relationships too.
The alternative solution is to stay in the relationship with the abusive partner which only seems to eliminate one problem, the negative reverberations one receives from other adults and from some professionals that believe it is possible to heal these children. There is never a discussion from those professionals, however, as to the negative impact the traumatized child has on the adult parent, an impact that mars the adult's life forever and often times, mars the lives of the traumatized siblings as well. Neither are the adult peers willing to invest time in discussing and comprehending the pain of a raising a damaged child.
There is no "win". Terminating a challenging adult relationship is never easy but often leads the abused partner to a place of healing and peace. Terminating a challenging child relationship leads no one to peace neither does maintaining the relationship. The bottom line is, unless individuals have lived this hell for themselves, they will never fully understand the damage and impact a traumatized child can have on a family.
One of the readers from my other blog posted the following comment which I thought was equally poignant:
"sixty years ago, those same adults who are willing to villify [parents] now would have villified [them] for the choice NOT to permanently institutionalize a child. They're going with common wisdom, which has changed within a couple of generations."
All told, I'm a "what's the bigger picture?" kind of gal before I hang a verdict on something. There is always more to a story than what we see at face value. What do I know? Maybe this American adoptive mom was horrible right back to this child? Maybe the Russian orphanage was brutally honest and she ignored their wisdom because she thought she could beat the odds? Maybe it's all too big a stretch for humanity and the only answer to everything, is the quote I wrote at the heading of this blog: "life and our faith isn't about "handling" it, it's about clinging to the one hope that is secure, our freedom from sin and death"?
There, by the grace of God, go I. Every single second of every single minute of every single day. If His mercies weren't new for me every morning, how on earth could my mercies be new for Sissy every morning? Simply put, they wouldn't be. And that alone may be the difference, the defining line between my choice and the choice this adoptive mom made the day she put her son on a plane back to Russia.
On April 3rd, I wrote a private post, my thoughts about the difficulties of raising traumatized kids. I keep these types of posts private because many of these thoughts are fleeting emotions that don't propel me toward a choice or a positive direction. But sometimes I just need to pen the crushing emotions, even when I know those words can be hurtful. But this time, in light of the recent travesty about the terminated Russian adoption and the number of times it's been blogged about today with fellow adoptive mom/RAD mom bloggers, I felt the words from my other blog would be poignant. But please do not judge me by these words. Do keep in mind that when I wrote these thoughts, I was attempting to expel a particular emotion in a healthy way.
For the record, as it pertains to the terminated adoption, I do not agree with the way in which the adoptive family handled the crisis they believed they were in as parents of the child. That said, I can empathize with the anguish and fear that may have led them to make the choice of terminating in such an egregious way.
My thoughts from April 3rd on my other blog:
In an adult relationship, if the other partner is abusive, argumentative, derisive, accusatory, non reciprocating, combative, violent, unyielding, oppositional, and then, announces his/her allegiance of love and commitment to another party, then you face the inevitable conclusion, the relationship is dead, it must be terminated. Point of fact, the offending party has terminated the relationship by the very nature of his/her actions and language.
But when the other member in that relationship is a child, it becomes criminal, ethically questionable, amoral and socially viewed as despicable and unconscionable to terminate the relationship. After all, the adult member of the relationship should rise to the occasion and be able to teach the child appropriate relationship behaviors.
Except when they can't, when it becomes impossible to retrain a diseased mind, to correct malformed neural synapses that began in the imprinting stage of infancy or when the mental health professionals themselves all but admit that they are grasping at straws too when they offer their "professional" advice as to how to reteach correct relationship with an damaged child.
Then the new game becomes either dealing with the ignorance of society that doesn't believe a child could be so irreparably damaged or making the conscious effort to toughen one's skin and ignore the anger and jeering from adult peers and consequently, terminate those relationships too.
The alternative solution is to stay in the relationship with the abusive partner which only seems to eliminate one problem, the negative reverberations one receives from other adults and from some professionals that believe it is possible to heal these children. There is never a discussion from those professionals, however, as to the negative impact the traumatized child has on the adult parent, an impact that mars the adult's life forever and often times, mars the lives of the traumatized siblings as well. Neither are the adult peers willing to invest time in discussing and comprehending the pain of a raising a damaged child.
There is no "win". Terminating a challenging adult relationship is never easy but often leads the abused partner to a place of healing and peace. Terminating a challenging child relationship leads no one to peace neither does maintaining the relationship. The bottom line is, unless individuals have lived this hell for themselves, they will never fully understand the damage and impact a traumatized child can have on a family.
One of the readers from my other blog posted the following comment which I thought was equally poignant:
"sixty years ago, those same adults who are willing to villify [parents] now would have villified [them] for the choice NOT to permanently institutionalize a child. They're going with common wisdom, which has changed within a couple of generations."
All told, I'm a "what's the bigger picture?" kind of gal before I hang a verdict on something. There is always more to a story than what we see at face value. What do I know? Maybe this American adoptive mom was horrible right back to this child? Maybe the Russian orphanage was brutally honest and she ignored their wisdom because she thought she could beat the odds? Maybe it's all too big a stretch for humanity and the only answer to everything, is the quote I wrote at the heading of this blog: "life and our faith isn't about "handling" it, it's about clinging to the one hope that is secure, our freedom from sin and death"?
There, by the grace of God, go I. Every single second of every single minute of every single day. If His mercies weren't new for me every morning, how on earth could my mercies be new for Sissy every morning? Simply put, they wouldn't be. And that alone may be the difference, the defining line between my choice and the choice this adoptive mom made the day she put her son on a plane back to Russia.
sick again
I took my last antibiotic for the strep last Saturday. By Tuesday almost all of the symptoms returned plus some. So I went back to the doctor yesterday. Seems I'm either harboring the strep bug or I've got a sinus infection, or both. He checked me for mono and I was negative (thank goodness!) Now I'm on the Z-pack with a refill. 20 more days of antibiotics. I haven't been this sick in two and a half years!
Aspie Boy is sick too, acute allergies. So the doc put him on prednisone. Heads up. Steroids and Asperger's doesn't mix. If you think the boy can stim without steroids, you should see him stim ON the steroids! At 12:30 a.m. the poor dear came into my room and asked a very drowsy me, "did you give me my sleep medicine?"
"uh... yes."
"are you sure?"
I looked at the clock. "Son, have you slept at all in the last four hours?"
"I don't think so."
"I'm sorry baby. It's that new medicine. Try to sleep, ok?"
I gave him his second dose first thing this morning hoping the affects would wear off before bedtime tonight.
And surprisingly, Sissy has been a peach! Two weeks ago with all of us down for the count, she was escalating toward violence with very defiant behaviors some bordering on the psychotic. But this week, after Monday's mayhem, she's been positively perfect. It makes me shake my head. I swear, some days I think I'm the one that's going insane. I can NEVER predict her. When she's this lovely[1], I feel so bad about being keyed up and emotional over her unrelenting challenges. But the truth is, lovely for three days will equal dreadful for the next few weeks. At least.
So I'm trying very hard to enjoy every minute. Lots of opportunities for loving, caressing and meaningful affection happening! The Dad and I even had a nice long chat with her last night about what it means to show love and earn trust. And I think she soaked some of it up (at least, it felt like she did. you never can tell.)
Next week when I'm on this blog crying to ya'll again, remind me of this post, will you?
[1]lovely as defined for Sissy would be: minimal lying, minimal screaming, minimal defiance, easily talked through escalating situations, very little rebuffing when asked to do something, maybe even offering to assist (OMG! WOW!), minimal issues with personal hygeine, very little manipulation and I can decrease my vigilance when I supervise her with her siblings. Oh, and her room stays relatively tidy. Relatively. lol
Aspie Boy is sick too, acute allergies. So the doc put him on prednisone. Heads up. Steroids and Asperger's doesn't mix. If you think the boy can stim without steroids, you should see him stim ON the steroids! At 12:30 a.m. the poor dear came into my room and asked a very drowsy me, "did you give me my sleep medicine?"
"uh... yes."
"are you sure?"
I looked at the clock. "Son, have you slept at all in the last four hours?"
"I don't think so."
"I'm sorry baby. It's that new medicine. Try to sleep, ok?"
I gave him his second dose first thing this morning hoping the affects would wear off before bedtime tonight.
And surprisingly, Sissy has been a peach! Two weeks ago with all of us down for the count, she was escalating toward violence with very defiant behaviors some bordering on the psychotic. But this week, after Monday's mayhem, she's been positively perfect. It makes me shake my head. I swear, some days I think I'm the one that's going insane. I can NEVER predict her. When she's this lovely[1], I feel so bad about being keyed up and emotional over her unrelenting challenges. But the truth is, lovely for three days will equal dreadful for the next few weeks. At least.
So I'm trying very hard to enjoy every minute. Lots of opportunities for loving, caressing and meaningful affection happening! The Dad and I even had a nice long chat with her last night about what it means to show love and earn trust. And I think she soaked some of it up (at least, it felt like she did. you never can tell.)
Next week when I'm on this blog crying to ya'll again, remind me of this post, will you?
[1]lovely as defined for Sissy would be: minimal lying, minimal screaming, minimal defiance, easily talked through escalating situations, very little rebuffing when asked to do something, maybe even offering to assist (OMG! WOW!), minimal issues with personal hygeine, very little manipulation and I can decrease my vigilance when I supervise her with her siblings. Oh, and her room stays relatively tidy. Relatively. lol
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Facebook followers
I share almost all of these posts on Facebook. It's been so much fun to reconnect with the amazing people in my life, people we've lost touch with either by distance or by time (and sometimes both). And let's face it, I'm wordy. So those 150 character limit status updates are never sufficient for me. So I link to my blog. And many of my FB friends (who are all IRL friends past and present), have followed my story over here.
I've also sent friends links to the blog via email. I haven't done this because I am seeking praise and adulation. Rather, I've been forward about my blog because so many IRL friends and family have specifically asked how they might pray for us or they've wanted to understand our struggle better. Blogging and then forwarding the links or sharing it on FB seemed like the most logical way to do that.
I wasn't prepared for the overwhelming response, the outpouring of love, the tears on our behalf and the prayers. But the one thing that has really puzzled The Dad and I, is that people are reporting that they see Jesus in us, in our life, in our humility and in our ability to keep on keeping on, despite it all. Somehow, regardless of our humanity, we have been modeling Christ's love. We have demonstrated peace in the storms and we have shown others that in the face of adversity, it is still possible to exhibit the fruits of the Spirit. Sometimes it makes The Dad and I furious when people say, "just when I think I've got it bad, I recall what YOU are going through and I know that if you can endure what you endure everyday with a smile, then surely what I am going through is easy!" because gosh, no one wants to learn that their life is the plumb line for others' lives! But still, we accept that role too because if we fully take on the call of Christ, then our lives are created for HIS glory, never ours. (But I'll be first to tell you that it sucks rotten eggs!)
A mutual friend of ours from my college days who is working toward his PhD in seminary school (or theology? I don't know. He can correct me. ;P) left me the following message on FB:
integritysinger, I read your posts periodically and want to thank you for taking the time and emotional outlay to compose and post them. We are not within a million miles of relating, but it breaks my heart to know you suffer so much, especially when i remember your contagious joy and smile. Please don't take that in any way that would evoke guilt in you. I *want* my heart to be broken for you. I *want* to keep reading these posts. For i feel like when i do, i momentarily touch the heart of God, and each time i read a post, i am reminded to pray for you.
It may sound trite, but in many, many ways you are exemplifying Christ to all who have eyes to see, in ways impossible for most. You understand Jesus' love, and the *voluntary* suffering that love brings upon the lover, far more than most. Whenever I'm worried about what God might think of me, frustrated by what He tolerates in others, I will need only think of you and The Dad. You are being Jesus to these kids and to everyone you know, exemplifying his fierce love. You are living, breathing embodiments of Christ himself. You know his heart in a way few ever can or will in this life.
I have no doubt that you will someday hear the words "Well done, good and faithful servant... Enter into My rest." And until that day comes, whenever you and The Dad feel alone, spent, and hopeless, remember we and many, many others, who remember you, pray for you, and who, if we could, would take you both in our arms and not let go.
So thank you for allowing me to share in your life, be it in an ever so small way. Thank you for breaking my heart, and please, keep writing honestly, please keep breaking it. Thank you for being Jesus to not only your kids, but to me.
My reply and I fully reiterate the last thoughts:
These are such kind words. The Dad and I have often discussed this phenomenon: that despite the difficulty of our challenges, we know inherently that our story is helping others in so many ways. We hear so often that the challenges we endure have been so overwhelming to others and yet, they report to us, we still laugh and smile and praise God. And we immediately quip back, "what else COULD we do?!" when faced with such adversity, it is ONLY CHRIST that sets us free and gives us the strength.
yes, we wish it weren't so. We wish there was a magic fix to all of it but that's not God's way.
peace and blessings to you in return. Please use our story to minister to others. Send them to the blog. If I can't be an example of Christ to others as I endure this lifetime, than I have accomplished nothing at all.
Integrity
I've also sent friends links to the blog via email. I haven't done this because I am seeking praise and adulation. Rather, I've been forward about my blog because so many IRL friends and family have specifically asked how they might pray for us or they've wanted to understand our struggle better. Blogging and then forwarding the links or sharing it on FB seemed like the most logical way to do that.
I wasn't prepared for the overwhelming response, the outpouring of love, the tears on our behalf and the prayers. But the one thing that has really puzzled The Dad and I, is that people are reporting that they see Jesus in us, in our life, in our humility and in our ability to keep on keeping on, despite it all. Somehow, regardless of our humanity, we have been modeling Christ's love. We have demonstrated peace in the storms and we have shown others that in the face of adversity, it is still possible to exhibit the fruits of the Spirit. Sometimes it makes The Dad and I furious when people say, "just when I think I've got it bad, I recall what YOU are going through and I know that if you can endure what you endure everyday with a smile, then surely what I am going through is easy!" because gosh, no one wants to learn that their life is the plumb line for others' lives! But still, we accept that role too because if we fully take on the call of Christ, then our lives are created for HIS glory, never ours. (But I'll be first to tell you that it sucks rotten eggs!)
A mutual friend of ours from my college days who is working toward his PhD in seminary school (or theology? I don't know. He can correct me. ;P) left me the following message on FB:
integritysinger, I read your posts periodically and want to thank you for taking the time and emotional outlay to compose and post them. We are not within a million miles of relating, but it breaks my heart to know you suffer so much, especially when i remember your contagious joy and smile. Please don't take that in any way that would evoke guilt in you. I *want* my heart to be broken for you. I *want* to keep reading these posts. For i feel like when i do, i momentarily touch the heart of God, and each time i read a post, i am reminded to pray for you.
It may sound trite, but in many, many ways you are exemplifying Christ to all who have eyes to see, in ways impossible for most. You understand Jesus' love, and the *voluntary* suffering that love brings upon the lover, far more than most. Whenever I'm worried about what God might think of me, frustrated by what He tolerates in others, I will need only think of you and The Dad. You are being Jesus to these kids and to everyone you know, exemplifying his fierce love. You are living, breathing embodiments of Christ himself. You know his heart in a way few ever can or will in this life.
I have no doubt that you will someday hear the words "Well done, good and faithful servant... Enter into My rest." And until that day comes, whenever you and The Dad feel alone, spent, and hopeless, remember we and many, many others, who remember you, pray for you, and who, if we could, would take you both in our arms and not let go.
So thank you for allowing me to share in your life, be it in an ever so small way. Thank you for breaking my heart, and please, keep writing honestly, please keep breaking it. Thank you for being Jesus to not only your kids, but to me.
My reply and I fully reiterate the last thoughts:
These are such kind words. The Dad and I have often discussed this phenomenon: that despite the difficulty of our challenges, we know inherently that our story is helping others in so many ways. We hear so often that the challenges we endure have been so overwhelming to others and yet, they report to us, we still laugh and smile and praise God. And we immediately quip back, "what else COULD we do?!" when faced with such adversity, it is ONLY CHRIST that sets us free and gives us the strength.
yes, we wish it weren't so. We wish there was a magic fix to all of it but that's not God's way.
peace and blessings to you in return. Please use our story to minister to others. Send them to the blog. If I can't be an example of Christ to others as I endure this lifetime, than I have accomplished nothing at all.
Integrity
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
What a girl wants
Sissy cooled her jets yesterday after about a dozen attempts to exacerbate me. And trust me, she made valiant efforts. Fortunately, I was not exacerbate-able. *phew!* I called the IFI team just to give them a heads up. She's really pushing the limits today, not sure what's going on with that. Any suggestions? Can you talk to her about it on Wed. morning? because the IFI team is coming twice this week. Thank heavens? LOL My jury is hung on a verdict as to whether or not IFI is going to help us help Sissy. At this point, The Dad and I are taking the stance of keeping the appearance of wanting to participate because that stance covers our shiny hineys.
Last night, to help them cool off from our 90 degree heat made worse by this insane pine pollen[1], I let them run in the sprinkler. Sissy was better? Hesitant to have fun? It's so hard to put a name to her mood and behaviors. She is so dis-regulated, even with all the meds they have her on. I sat on a folding chair in the driveway, keeping a vigilant eye on their fun. Wonder Girl was tentatively hobbling about, the Physical Therapist having given her a green light to start walking again. But I wasn't going to take the chance of leaving Sissy alone with Wonder Girl where running through a sloshy, wet yard was the game. Plus, Aspie Boy is prone to stray into the street (and sometimes strip).
As I sat there, contemplating my life as a mother, watching these children, MY children, running around and getting soaked, I was filled with ennui. Wonder Girl is the only one that is able to have fun with reckless abandon. But even then, she keeps a very keen eye on Sissy. Just the fact that a 10 year old and a 9 year old have to be supervised in the yard speaks volumes to my responsibilities as their mother. I say to myself, "you're over protective, they'll be fine. stop being a helicopter parent" but none of those cliches are true in this case. No, I'm NOT being protective enough, no, they won't be fine. No, this isn't helicopter parenting, this is wise parenting of special needs children. And it sucks. This is a hard road for me. Other moms might be able to take this in stride, but this chica, not so much.
I imagined what it would be like if a peer of non-challenged children was sitting beside me, watching my children with me. She might say, "I don't understand. They're playing just fine. Sissy is fine. Look at them, they're enjoying themselves." And that woman would be right, but only for that ten minutes of time. A ten minute segment of parenting joy that happens about once every 10 days of sheer mayhem and is consequently filled with grief. Grief, because the happy moments are so few and far between, because I have to be vigilant to find them and then soak them up because I don't know when they'll happen again. Because so much anger and screaming and hatred has happened between the 10 minute good times that it's hard to just let go of that negative energy so I CAN fully embrace the happy times. Because as I sit there watching them splash and scream, I know that when the water is turned off and it's time for bed, Sissy will be back to rage about her PH, I'll spend 25 minutes therapeutically parenting her through her bedtime routines and be so exhausted from trying not to lose my cool and be a proper parent that when I go to tuck in WG and AB, I'm too exhausted to do more than peck them. Because I'll have completely taken them for granted... again. If my peer of non-challenged children said, "it's not so bad, they're doing great right now" I'd angrily turn to her and say, "try saying that to a cancer patient when she is in between vomiting sessions from the chemo"
I've watched the videos over and over, searching for some clue as to how I might be a more effective parent, what doorway might I find that gets me on a road toward helping Sissy heal, what behaviors is she doing that trigger me, what behaviors am I doing that trigger her and finally I turned them off. Aspie Boy walked into my bedroom, complaining about a headache and I turned to face him and my dejection was showing on my face. Dejection because I can't see a way out of Sissy's nonsense. "Mom. Why are you watching those movies?"
"Because I'm hoping I'll figure out if I'm doing something wrong that makes Sissy scream."
"ARE you doing something wrong mom?"
*trying not to cry* "No son, I really don't think so."
"So why does she do that mom?"
"I wish I knew son, I wish I knew. But I'll be taking the videos to my therapist tomorrow so she can help me figure it out, ok?"
"Ok."
"Do you want some tylenol?"
"yeah."
he's such an amazing boy. I'm the luckiest mom ever. Sure, he has his quirks, sure, he'll be in a group home or assisted living, working a blue collar job at just the right amount of hours so it doesn't stop his SSDI, sure, getting married and having more children is probably not a good plan for him since he'll just pass along his genetic disorder, but he's MY son. And I think he's precious.
I gave him his tylenol, thinking all of those thoughts and then a pang struck my heart. I really, REALLY wish I could find that same love in my heart for Sissy. I had it once. So very long ago. It is just a faded memory now, the hope that Sissy would be my daughter, that I'd get to be her mommy, that I'd raise her into a beautiful woman that loves her life and the people in it. I never had high aspirations for my children. I just hoped for love and joy, peace, patience and happiness. I don't know if that will be a reality for Sissy and I.
I know what Nancy Thomas says, that you have to find something to love about the RADish and then stick with it. Make your face say LOVE! everytime you look at the RADish. Find something, ANYTHING that makes your face light up. Fake it till you make it. She tells a story of one boy that was so difficult the only thing she could think of that made her think LOVE! when she looked at him was that he was her tallest child. So she thought he's my tallest child! with love, everytime she looked at him, held him, helped him, nurtured him, parented him. I have to find that nugget for Sissy. Right now, I don't know if I want to, I don't know if I have it in me to dig any deeper.
What a girl wants? What this girl wants is to find happiness and love, peace, patience and joy in my life as Just me, as a wife, as a mother and as a woman regardless of RADs. Right now, I don't know if that's possible.
Right now, what this girl wants is to take a very long vacation with just The Dad so he and I can do what our peers of non challenged children take for granted every day: Live. Laugh. Love.
[1]if you've never lived where the pines are, you don't know what I'm talking about but good God almighty, it's been the worst I've ever seen it and this is my 14th spring in the state. the air quality has been so poor and Aspie Boy, Sissy and my allergies have been so compromised that we are taking daily doses of local honey, allergy meds, decongestants and STAYING INDOORS!
Last night, to help them cool off from our 90 degree heat made worse by this insane pine pollen[1], I let them run in the sprinkler. Sissy was better? Hesitant to have fun? It's so hard to put a name to her mood and behaviors. She is so dis-regulated, even with all the meds they have her on. I sat on a folding chair in the driveway, keeping a vigilant eye on their fun. Wonder Girl was tentatively hobbling about, the Physical Therapist having given her a green light to start walking again. But I wasn't going to take the chance of leaving Sissy alone with Wonder Girl where running through a sloshy, wet yard was the game. Plus, Aspie Boy is prone to stray into the street (and sometimes strip).
As I sat there, contemplating my life as a mother, watching these children, MY children, running around and getting soaked, I was filled with ennui. Wonder Girl is the only one that is able to have fun with reckless abandon. But even then, she keeps a very keen eye on Sissy. Just the fact that a 10 year old and a 9 year old have to be supervised in the yard speaks volumes to my responsibilities as their mother. I say to myself, "you're over protective, they'll be fine. stop being a helicopter parent" but none of those cliches are true in this case. No, I'm NOT being protective enough, no, they won't be fine. No, this isn't helicopter parenting, this is wise parenting of special needs children. And it sucks. This is a hard road for me. Other moms might be able to take this in stride, but this chica, not so much.
I imagined what it would be like if a peer of non-challenged children was sitting beside me, watching my children with me. She might say, "I don't understand. They're playing just fine. Sissy is fine. Look at them, they're enjoying themselves." And that woman would be right, but only for that ten minutes of time. A ten minute segment of parenting joy that happens about once every 10 days of sheer mayhem and is consequently filled with grief. Grief, because the happy moments are so few and far between, because I have to be vigilant to find them and then soak them up because I don't know when they'll happen again. Because so much anger and screaming and hatred has happened between the 10 minute good times that it's hard to just let go of that negative energy so I CAN fully embrace the happy times. Because as I sit there watching them splash and scream, I know that when the water is turned off and it's time for bed, Sissy will be back to rage about her PH, I'll spend 25 minutes therapeutically parenting her through her bedtime routines and be so exhausted from trying not to lose my cool and be a proper parent that when I go to tuck in WG and AB, I'm too exhausted to do more than peck them. Because I'll have completely taken them for granted... again. If my peer of non-challenged children said, "it's not so bad, they're doing great right now" I'd angrily turn to her and say, "try saying that to a cancer patient when she is in between vomiting sessions from the chemo"
I've watched the videos over and over, searching for some clue as to how I might be a more effective parent, what doorway might I find that gets me on a road toward helping Sissy heal, what behaviors is she doing that trigger me, what behaviors am I doing that trigger her and finally I turned them off. Aspie Boy walked into my bedroom, complaining about a headache and I turned to face him and my dejection was showing on my face. Dejection because I can't see a way out of Sissy's nonsense. "Mom. Why are you watching those movies?"
"Because I'm hoping I'll figure out if I'm doing something wrong that makes Sissy scream."
"ARE you doing something wrong mom?"
*trying not to cry* "No son, I really don't think so."
"So why does she do that mom?"
"I wish I knew son, I wish I knew. But I'll be taking the videos to my therapist tomorrow so she can help me figure it out, ok?"
"Ok."
"Do you want some tylenol?"
"yeah."
he's such an amazing boy. I'm the luckiest mom ever. Sure, he has his quirks, sure, he'll be in a group home or assisted living, working a blue collar job at just the right amount of hours so it doesn't stop his SSDI, sure, getting married and having more children is probably not a good plan for him since he'll just pass along his genetic disorder, but he's MY son. And I think he's precious.
I gave him his tylenol, thinking all of those thoughts and then a pang struck my heart. I really, REALLY wish I could find that same love in my heart for Sissy. I had it once. So very long ago. It is just a faded memory now, the hope that Sissy would be my daughter, that I'd get to be her mommy, that I'd raise her into a beautiful woman that loves her life and the people in it. I never had high aspirations for my children. I just hoped for love and joy, peace, patience and happiness. I don't know if that will be a reality for Sissy and I.
I know what Nancy Thomas says, that you have to find something to love about the RADish and then stick with it. Make your face say LOVE! everytime you look at the RADish. Find something, ANYTHING that makes your face light up. Fake it till you make it. She tells a story of one boy that was so difficult the only thing she could think of that made her think LOVE! when she looked at him was that he was her tallest child. So she thought he's my tallest child! with love, everytime she looked at him, held him, helped him, nurtured him, parented him. I have to find that nugget for Sissy. Right now, I don't know if I want to, I don't know if I have it in me to dig any deeper.
What a girl wants? What this girl wants is to find happiness and love, peace, patience and joy in my life as Just me, as a wife, as a mother and as a woman regardless of RADs. Right now, I don't know if that's possible.
Right now, what this girl wants is to take a very long vacation with just The Dad so he and I can do what our peers of non challenged children take for granted every day: Live. Laugh. Love.
[1]if you've never lived where the pines are, you don't know what I'm talking about but good God almighty, it's been the worst I've ever seen it and this is my 14th spring in the state. the air quality has been so poor and Aspie Boy, Sissy and my allergies have been so compromised that we are taking daily doses of local honey, allergy meds, decongestants and STAYING INDOORS!
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Survivor Videos
My therapist asked to view some of the videos we've created of Sissy's violent episodes at our next session. She's not questioning the authenticity of my claims, she is hoping to lend a helping hand in dissecting, understanding and providing therapeutic assistance to deal with these events. So I uploaded the videos to my laptop and watched them with as objective a point of view as possible. I was hoping I might discover something about Sissy's behaviors in the videos that I hadn't seen before because I was in those crisis events with her. I don't like to go to therapy sessions unprepared. I only have an hour and I don't want to waste a second of that time figuring stuff out. I like to spend that time problem solving after I have already identified the problem.
[aside] Right now Sissy is playing with an infant toy. She likes to engage Wonder Girl with these things even though WG will openly admit that she's not interested because these things are "baby toys". I didn't even remember I still had some baby toys laying around the house. (note to self - donate the darn thing to the church yard sale) Why do our RADishes prefer to gravitate toward items, TV programs and children that are developmentally below them? That's an open question for anyone. I'd love to hear your thoughts.
and now she's playing the piano. replicating the twinkle twinkle little star song that the infant toy plays.
oops. she got bored. just as I was typing the above thought. now she's pacing and asking me for things she doesn't need or really want. I hate weekends. I can't possibly replicate the strict scheduling nature of a school day even when I try. And I don't know that it would ultimately help Sissy. It would just become one more thing for her to rebuff me on. I've tried the love and logic approach of giving her two choices but when she gets boxed in, she screams. duh. she screams no matter what words come out of my mouth, so it's just easier to not let words come out of my mouth when she's near me.
I'm still not speaking to her beyond three word directives. She's been pesky but not difficult. It was nice to have a scream-free evening last night. She leaves for her outing in an hour. :-)
ugh. now she's opening up a jar full of beads to make something. This will last for five minutes tops before she gets frustrated trying to put the string through the little holes. (by the way, her behaviors are being typed in real time so as you've read these words, that's how long it took her to change her activity plan)
[Back to my original post thought, the videos]
So I watched them all. First, I had to turn down the volume. I tell people she screams. Loudly. I tell people you can hear her screaming when you're outside and all the windows and doors to the house are closed. I tell them this but they don't really believe it because they haven't heard it. She screams. Primal screams. My ears were ringing when I was through listening to the videos and that was with the volume turned down.
Second, comparing videos from before and after RTC, I can say with certainty that she's on a good drug mix. It might need some slight tweaking but the drugs have definitely taken out a lot of the psychosis factor. Before RTC, the videos show a wild-eyed Sissy that is screaming, scheming and moving very quickly with wild movements. And she is alarmingly disregulated. One video she is primal screaming and two seconds later she is sitting tall, speaking clearly and saying a thought that seems to have absolute clarity of mind.
After RTC, her videos show more infantile behaviors than before but more regulation (which I say tentatively because she still isn't regulated but it's marginally better). The intensity of her violence is lessened some and her mood is flatter. I think I can sum it up by saying the violence, mania and psychosis is still there but the meds are making it hard for her to get to the same level of escalation as before. It's kind of like a scene from a scary movie in which a monster is trying to escape a man hole in the street but someone is sitting on the man hole cover attempting to keep the monster in. The monster can pop up the lid some but the man can shove it back down with effort.
Third, the videos after RTC are shorter which easily quantifies the fact that she is getting regulated faster than before. Another positive.
[aside] and now she has spilled all the beads on the floor after making a bracelet that she decided after the fact she wanted to be necklace. I told her it was too short. She got mad and spilled them all. but if you asked her about it? she'd tell you they spilled by accident *enter baby whine with a sideways look at you to see if she convinced you* [1]
now she's picked them all up and put them into a plastic easter egg.
now she's putting more beads into a ziploc bag. (note to self: where the heck did she get a ziploc bag? When did she get that?)
and now wonder girl is trying to cut the new table cloth with the scissors that Sissy did not put away
and now she's interrupting me to ask if she can put on a tattoo.
and now she's asking if she can put her money into the bag that attaches to her bicycle.
and now she's pacing again with untied shoe laces that are clicking on the linoleum
[back to my original post thoughts]
Fourth, she is manipulative. Before and after RTC. When you watch the videos with an open mind, it is almost laughable. Her eyes betray her, as does her body language. It is very clear when she is screaming to get attention or to get her way and when she is screaming because she's past the point of no return (amygdala response of fight/flight). When I'm in the crisis moment with her, I don't pick up on those cues because I'm taking it all for the values that I see and hear which are a dis regulated child that is screaming at me. But the videos don't lie. Half of those moments were easily manipulations. [1] proof of my thoughts like the aforementioned. She really does make those sideways glances to see if she's convinced me or her dad of her manipulation. I saw them clear as day on the videos.
Fifth, and this is the most telling. As a whole, The Dad's stance just ticks her off. Flat our anger. There's no other emotion there except anger that he's told her to do something. But when I'm in the mix. Oh boy. It's scary.
In one video, she's screaming at her dad about homework. You can't see me because the camera is on Sissy, but I was sitting across the kitchen table from her, doing homework with Wonder Girl. WG and I were doing our best to ignore Sissy's outburst. At some point in the exchange with The Dad, Sissy immediately stopped her primal screaming and gave him a look of death (ha! Caught on video, this hairy eyeball isn't my imagination!). There is no sound and then suddenly, you hear WG and I laughing. OMG. I watched the three seconds over and over. Sissy went from look-of-death glare at dad to a completely different countenance, her head spinning to look directly at me and ... I can't describe it. It's like love, yearning, hatred and violence all rolled into one facial expression. Almost as though my laughing with WG was a betrayal of my love for Sissy. Then, three seconds later, she is literally leaning over the table primal screaming at me.
A few months ago, right after this incident with Sissy, I was so shaken up by her response, that I discussed it in my therapy session. I told my therapist that it was like a demon was screaming at me. Sissy was leaning all the way over the table, holding a clenched fist to my nose, primal screaming about her spelling homework, all directed at me. But the original homework exchange was between Sissy and The Dad.
Now I see what happened. It was the dynamic between WG and I that set her off. Now I know why she escalates to violence against WG, she knows that WG and I have an appropriate mother/daughter relationship. Now I understand all of Sissy's other machinations - they are all geared toward triangulating her siblings and adults against me so that she has the upper hand. When she can't triangulate or manipulate them (which is almost always the case) she gets angry at ME. When she can't triangulate or manipulate me, she takes her anger out on WG (which, in her mind, is still taking the anger out on me because she's subconsciously declaring that our appropriate mother/daughter relationship should be destroyed) But of course, all it serves to do is strengthen my relationship with WG because right now, I'm the only protection WG has from Sissy. And this undesired result to Sissy's manipulation only escalate her rage more. Eventually, what I predict will come true. Sissy will have to keep upping the ante in her attempts to destroy the relationship I have with WG to the point of WG being seriously injured. I won't be able to convince professionals of this truth. Neither do I know how to circumvent this culmination. My only recourse is to stick with my maternal intuition (that is now supported by video proof) and to prevent Sissy and WG from having any alone time. Which is exhausting to say the least.
Sissy doesn't do this with Aspie Boy because number one, we have a mother/SON relationship which is functionally different, and because by the nature of his disorder, Asperger kids can't be manipulated or triangulated. Or at least mine can't be. Aspies only see black/white. Everything else is "against the law" as AB would say. Something the president should be notified about. The first hint of a supreme authoritative power like a president and Sissy backs down. Because that kind of authority is to be feared (because parental authority isn't truly authority in the mind of a RADish, rather it is an opportunity to out wit, out last and out play. [2] after all, isn't it the first parent that destroyed that level of trust? ergo, parents categorically can not be trusted [3])
In conclusion, I can apply these new discoveries to help appropriately parent Sissy. At least I hope I can. That said, what I've learned may or may not be transferable to other RAD children. However, I strongly recommend you create a few months worth of videos of your RADish in crisis or potentially critical moments in which they navigate correctly. Then watch them, after you've put time and emotion behind you. Analyze them critically. Learn from them. You may uncover some truths about yourself, your RADish and find a path toward healing that you didn't have before. Take them to your therapist (or theirs) and get a professional to help you work it out. But don't wait. Start today. We bought a cheapo $30 USB port pocket-sized video recorder that holds 10 GB. It was more than sufficient to do the job.
[2]out wit, out last, out play. The motto of the reality TV show, Survivor. I told a friend recently that I live Survivor every single day. Sissy tries to out wit, out last and out play me all the time. Literally. All.The.Time.
[3] this is not meant as a "dig" on first parents. It's just the subliminal message in a RADish mind, the trauma factor of improper parent/child relationship imprinting
[aside] Right now Sissy is playing with an infant toy. She likes to engage Wonder Girl with these things even though WG will openly admit that she's not interested because these things are "baby toys". I didn't even remember I still had some baby toys laying around the house. (note to self - donate the darn thing to the church yard sale) Why do our RADishes prefer to gravitate toward items, TV programs and children that are developmentally below them? That's an open question for anyone. I'd love to hear your thoughts.
and now she's playing the piano. replicating the twinkle twinkle little star song that the infant toy plays.
oops. she got bored. just as I was typing the above thought. now she's pacing and asking me for things she doesn't need or really want. I hate weekends. I can't possibly replicate the strict scheduling nature of a school day even when I try. And I don't know that it would ultimately help Sissy. It would just become one more thing for her to rebuff me on. I've tried the love and logic approach of giving her two choices but when she gets boxed in, she screams. duh. she screams no matter what words come out of my mouth, so it's just easier to not let words come out of my mouth when she's near me.
I'm still not speaking to her beyond three word directives. She's been pesky but not difficult. It was nice to have a scream-free evening last night. She leaves for her outing in an hour. :-)
ugh. now she's opening up a jar full of beads to make something. This will last for five minutes tops before she gets frustrated trying to put the string through the little holes. (by the way, her behaviors are being typed in real time so as you've read these words, that's how long it took her to change her activity plan)
[Back to my original post thought, the videos]
So I watched them all. First, I had to turn down the volume. I tell people she screams. Loudly. I tell people you can hear her screaming when you're outside and all the windows and doors to the house are closed. I tell them this but they don't really believe it because they haven't heard it. She screams. Primal screams. My ears were ringing when I was through listening to the videos and that was with the volume turned down.
Second, comparing videos from before and after RTC, I can say with certainty that she's on a good drug mix. It might need some slight tweaking but the drugs have definitely taken out a lot of the psychosis factor. Before RTC, the videos show a wild-eyed Sissy that is screaming, scheming and moving very quickly with wild movements. And she is alarmingly disregulated. One video she is primal screaming and two seconds later she is sitting tall, speaking clearly and saying a thought that seems to have absolute clarity of mind.
After RTC, her videos show more infantile behaviors than before but more regulation (which I say tentatively because she still isn't regulated but it's marginally better). The intensity of her violence is lessened some and her mood is flatter. I think I can sum it up by saying the violence, mania and psychosis is still there but the meds are making it hard for her to get to the same level of escalation as before. It's kind of like a scene from a scary movie in which a monster is trying to escape a man hole in the street but someone is sitting on the man hole cover attempting to keep the monster in. The monster can pop up the lid some but the man can shove it back down with effort.
Third, the videos after RTC are shorter which easily quantifies the fact that she is getting regulated faster than before. Another positive.
[aside] and now she has spilled all the beads on the floor after making a bracelet that she decided after the fact she wanted to be necklace. I told her it was too short. She got mad and spilled them all. but if you asked her about it? she'd tell you they spilled by accident *enter baby whine with a sideways look at you to see if she convinced you* [1]
now she's picked them all up and put them into a plastic easter egg.
now she's putting more beads into a ziploc bag. (note to self: where the heck did she get a ziploc bag? When did she get that?)
and now wonder girl is trying to cut the new table cloth with the scissors that Sissy did not put away
and now she's interrupting me to ask if she can put on a tattoo.
and now she's asking if she can put her money into the bag that attaches to her bicycle.
and now she's pacing again with untied shoe laces that are clicking on the linoleum
[back to my original post thoughts]
Fourth, she is manipulative. Before and after RTC. When you watch the videos with an open mind, it is almost laughable. Her eyes betray her, as does her body language. It is very clear when she is screaming to get attention or to get her way and when she is screaming because she's past the point of no return (amygdala response of fight/flight). When I'm in the crisis moment with her, I don't pick up on those cues because I'm taking it all for the values that I see and hear which are a dis regulated child that is screaming at me. But the videos don't lie. Half of those moments were easily manipulations. [1] proof of my thoughts like the aforementioned. She really does make those sideways glances to see if she's convinced me or her dad of her manipulation. I saw them clear as day on the videos.
Fifth, and this is the most telling. As a whole, The Dad's stance just ticks her off. Flat our anger. There's no other emotion there except anger that he's told her to do something. But when I'm in the mix. Oh boy. It's scary.
In one video, she's screaming at her dad about homework. You can't see me because the camera is on Sissy, but I was sitting across the kitchen table from her, doing homework with Wonder Girl. WG and I were doing our best to ignore Sissy's outburst. At some point in the exchange with The Dad, Sissy immediately stopped her primal screaming and gave him a look of death (ha! Caught on video, this hairy eyeball isn't my imagination!). There is no sound and then suddenly, you hear WG and I laughing. OMG. I watched the three seconds over and over. Sissy went from look-of-death glare at dad to a completely different countenance, her head spinning to look directly at me and ... I can't describe it. It's like love, yearning, hatred and violence all rolled into one facial expression. Almost as though my laughing with WG was a betrayal of my love for Sissy. Then, three seconds later, she is literally leaning over the table primal screaming at me.
A few months ago, right after this incident with Sissy, I was so shaken up by her response, that I discussed it in my therapy session. I told my therapist that it was like a demon was screaming at me. Sissy was leaning all the way over the table, holding a clenched fist to my nose, primal screaming about her spelling homework, all directed at me. But the original homework exchange was between Sissy and The Dad.
Now I see what happened. It was the dynamic between WG and I that set her off. Now I know why she escalates to violence against WG, she knows that WG and I have an appropriate mother/daughter relationship. Now I understand all of Sissy's other machinations - they are all geared toward triangulating her siblings and adults against me so that she has the upper hand. When she can't triangulate or manipulate them (which is almost always the case) she gets angry at ME. When she can't triangulate or manipulate me, she takes her anger out on WG (which, in her mind, is still taking the anger out on me because she's subconsciously declaring that our appropriate mother/daughter relationship should be destroyed) But of course, all it serves to do is strengthen my relationship with WG because right now, I'm the only protection WG has from Sissy. And this undesired result to Sissy's manipulation only escalate her rage more. Eventually, what I predict will come true. Sissy will have to keep upping the ante in her attempts to destroy the relationship I have with WG to the point of WG being seriously injured. I won't be able to convince professionals of this truth. Neither do I know how to circumvent this culmination. My only recourse is to stick with my maternal intuition (that is now supported by video proof) and to prevent Sissy and WG from having any alone time. Which is exhausting to say the least.
Sissy doesn't do this with Aspie Boy because number one, we have a mother/SON relationship which is functionally different, and because by the nature of his disorder, Asperger kids can't be manipulated or triangulated. Or at least mine can't be. Aspies only see black/white. Everything else is "against the law" as AB would say. Something the president should be notified about. The first hint of a supreme authoritative power like a president and Sissy backs down. Because that kind of authority is to be feared (because parental authority isn't truly authority in the mind of a RADish, rather it is an opportunity to out wit, out last and out play. [2] after all, isn't it the first parent that destroyed that level of trust? ergo, parents categorically can not be trusted [3])
In conclusion, I can apply these new discoveries to help appropriately parent Sissy. At least I hope I can. That said, what I've learned may or may not be transferable to other RAD children. However, I strongly recommend you create a few months worth of videos of your RADish in crisis or potentially critical moments in which they navigate correctly. Then watch them, after you've put time and emotion behind you. Analyze them critically. Learn from them. You may uncover some truths about yourself, your RADish and find a path toward healing that you didn't have before. Take them to your therapist (or theirs) and get a professional to help you work it out. But don't wait. Start today. We bought a cheapo $30 USB port pocket-sized video recorder that holds 10 GB. It was more than sufficient to do the job.
[2]out wit, out last, out play. The motto of the reality TV show, Survivor. I told a friend recently that I live Survivor every single day. Sissy tries to out wit, out last and out play me all the time. Literally. All.The.Time.
[3] this is not meant as a "dig" on first parents. It's just the subliminal message in a RADish mind, the trauma factor of improper parent/child relationship imprinting
Friday, April 2, 2010
april fools day highlights
Highlight number one:
Aspie Boy hates April Fools Day, apparently. He was in tears about it during breakfast. "It's lying! Lying is against the law! The president says so!"
Then when I picked him up from school, more of the same rhetoric, "It's a bad thing. April Fools day is bad. Because it means you are lying. and then you'll laugh for lying. and then you'll think lying is good. and you'll lie all the time because you'll like it."
[aside: he didn't actually come out and say it, but I think he was mentally making the conclusion that Sissy would be the type of person that would like to keep lying and he is tired of it. Which is language he HAS used lately, that he's tired of her always lying and screaming when you tell her what the truth is.]
Highlight number two:
Sissy announces, "Mom? do you know why April Fools Day is my second favorite holiday? Because it's all about lying. And I'm really GOOD at lying!" *big, goofy smile*
Highlight number three:
Sissy escalating at bedtime (AGAIN! ugh, what the heck IS it about morning and bedtime that drives her so insane?!?). The Dad reminded her that her behaviors have not changed at all since she was at RTC demonstrating that she is still showing no desire to change. He said that since IFI hadn't helped her thus far, we could just call and say we no longer want to be in the program which made Sissy REALLY furious. She started screaming, "But they make me feel good about myself! They like me! And I LOVE THEM!"
at which point I left the house.
because that was one comment to many for me. and after four nights of her escalating screaming that either required a phone call to IFI or their return to the home to deescalate, I'd had enough. Hearing that she loves two women that have spent a total of 15 hours with her, split between the two of them, was too much for me.
yeah. she "loves" them because Ms T has been triangulated successfully by Sissy and Ms M is taking her on an outing tomorrow. She "loves" them because they don't have to parent her. They don't have to tell her "no", they aren't here in the morning, getting her ready for school, in the afternoon helping with her homework, in the evening when she has to bathe herself. They come, they do cute little therapy things with her and leave. And I get to deal.
I know I should be the grown up here and just let it roll off my back. I know some subconscious part of her said those words because they would be hurtful. I know the best thing to do is to ignore her crap. But last night I didn't have the strength to ignore it and it was too much for me.
So I'm not talking to her beyond three-word directives. I'm not talking to her until I know that I've got my hatches battened down, my resolve shored up and my respite meter refilled. Yeah, Sissy's going on a fun outing with Ms M tomorrow and she's all giddy and glowy about it because they're going to buy something and intuitively, after all of the crap she's pulled this week, I'd say she hasn't earned that privilege. Whatever. I don't care. It means Sissy will be someone else's responsibility for two hours.
Aspie Boy hates April Fools Day, apparently. He was in tears about it during breakfast. "It's lying! Lying is against the law! The president says so!"
Then when I picked him up from school, more of the same rhetoric, "It's a bad thing. April Fools day is bad. Because it means you are lying. and then you'll laugh for lying. and then you'll think lying is good. and you'll lie all the time because you'll like it."
[aside: he didn't actually come out and say it, but I think he was mentally making the conclusion that Sissy would be the type of person that would like to keep lying and he is tired of it. Which is language he HAS used lately, that he's tired of her always lying and screaming when you tell her what the truth is.]
Highlight number two:
Sissy announces, "Mom? do you know why April Fools Day is my second favorite holiday? Because it's all about lying. And I'm really GOOD at lying!" *big, goofy smile*
Highlight number three:
Sissy escalating at bedtime (AGAIN! ugh, what the heck IS it about morning and bedtime that drives her so insane?!?). The Dad reminded her that her behaviors have not changed at all since she was at RTC demonstrating that she is still showing no desire to change. He said that since IFI hadn't helped her thus far, we could just call and say we no longer want to be in the program which made Sissy REALLY furious. She started screaming, "But they make me feel good about myself! They like me! And I LOVE THEM!"
at which point I left the house.
because that was one comment to many for me. and after four nights of her escalating screaming that either required a phone call to IFI or their return to the home to deescalate, I'd had enough. Hearing that she loves two women that have spent a total of 15 hours with her, split between the two of them, was too much for me.
yeah. she "loves" them because Ms T has been triangulated successfully by Sissy and Ms M is taking her on an outing tomorrow. She "loves" them because they don't have to parent her. They don't have to tell her "no", they aren't here in the morning, getting her ready for school, in the afternoon helping with her homework, in the evening when she has to bathe herself. They come, they do cute little therapy things with her and leave. And I get to deal.
I know I should be the grown up here and just let it roll off my back. I know some subconscious part of her said those words because they would be hurtful. I know the best thing to do is to ignore her crap. But last night I didn't have the strength to ignore it and it was too much for me.
So I'm not talking to her beyond three-word directives. I'm not talking to her until I know that I've got my hatches battened down, my resolve shored up and my respite meter refilled. Yeah, Sissy's going on a fun outing with Ms M tomorrow and she's all giddy and glowy about it because they're going to buy something and intuitively, after all of the crap she's pulled this week, I'd say she hasn't earned that privilege. Whatever. I don't care. It means Sissy will be someone else's responsibility for two hours.
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