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Sometimes a girl needs a pick-me-up and I didn’t feel like new lipstick soooo…..a new blog site, it is! Come on over!

I came across this on a blog I read, Noah’s Road and it is a wonderful interpretation of the mourning period one goes through when raising a special needs child. If we are very lucky, we learn that Holland is just as amazing as Italy!

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this…

When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum, the Michelangelo David, the gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome to Holland.”

“Holland?!” you say. “What do you mean, Holland?” I signed up for Italy! I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy.

But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to some horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s just a different place.

So you must go out and buy a new guidebook. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It’s just a different place. It’s slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around, and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills, Holland has tulips, Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life you will say, “Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.”

The pain of that will never, ever, go away, because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.

But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.

-Written by Emily Perl Kingsley

I had an idea of the kind of parent I wanted to be, we probably all did before having kids. I am nothing like that mom. Nothing. I did the mourning period of not having the “normal” family which meant I couldn’t be that mom I had envisioned. But lately I have realized it goes beyond that. My intentions were valid, my plans were genuine, my love is real. But what I never thought of is ability – or actually, inability. I never took into account how all my “stuff” would affect my parenting ability. I thought of my own traumas, how these were not experienced in vain, how I could help my children even more because some things we both experienced and I could understand. What a lovely silver lining little thought.

I am exhausted. Completely. Nothing my kids are handing me lately is out of the ordinary. I have actually had more days with a break in the last two months than I ever have. Granted, I am unemployed at the moment and being with my kids 24/7  is an adjustment, but I can’t see how that justifies where I am. What I am realizing is in order to be the kind of parent I dream of being…I’m not sure I am capable. That’s not a cop out because if there was a magic pill, one that gives me energy and patience and daily understanding instead of once in a while – I would spend every dime I have on that pill. I am forever coming up with plans, schedules, ideas, wishes but to carry them through, I crumble. I shut down under the pressure/weight of knowing my physical and more accurately, emotional self isn’t capable.

This doesn’t mean I can’t be a good parent. I am a good parent but I oh so badly want to be a great parent. I provide a safe and loving environment for my kids but there is so much more I want to be doing for them. Most days I feel like the pressure is stronger than I am, the weight of the world is something I feel ongoing.

Right now, 6 years ago, I was working a leadership conference that as a high school student in 1992, I had attended. My uncle had been raising M for the previous 4 years and H had been staying with a friend of his for a couple of months. The friend was getting in the way of my visits with H, as their mom, K, was contacting her from prison. K did NOT want me to have the kids, because she knew I wouldn’t hand them back when she got out until she proved she would stay clean. I spoke to her dad, my uncle, about my concerns that H was with this practical stranger and didn’t seem quite stable. So, on this day 6 years ago, my uncle picked up H, telling the lady we had a family reunion, and brought her and M to my parent’s house. I knew this was happening and I arrived not a couple of hours after they did. My uncle was then SUPPOSED to tell the lady that H wasn’t coming back but he didn’t. No call or anything to her so you can imagine the drama that followed. Needless to say, we ended up getting H’s belongings from the curb in front of the lady’s home.

At the time, I was living in dorm-like apartments as a full-time college student. I had left the corporate world to get my degree. I was majoring in International Politics and planned to help African women and children via a non-profit. But God told me there were two children in my own family that needed me more. I laughed at that, I had no job and no place for us to live. God wasn’t laughing, He was quite serious and within two weeks these kiddos were being brought to me. My parents moved into my grandmother’s vacant home and allowed us to stay in the home I was raised in. They were planning that move anyway and put off the sale of the house for us. I took the first job that came along, working for a crazy woman who had a no-kill shelter INSIDE HER MANSION! It paid well for what it was and I needed money ASAP. My friends were amazing, Elisha took clothing donations at her work, another bought all their school supplies, people were offering support from every direction. It was about a year before I went back to work with my previous (before college) company and we moved 12 hours away to El Paso.

There were signs of RAD from day one, if I had known about RAD, that is. H walked in the door the first day and announced, I am going to live with you. No one had told her this. She twirled her hair and batted her eyelashes and conned little boys into closets – she was 3. M has always been the master of manipulation, making me feel guilty in 5 seconds flat. Our first trip to the park and a man was selling ice cream. I had no cash on me and I was ok with M sitting there sulking. The man actually walked by and asked us if we wanted some, and M piped up “My MOM won’t let me…” Mom? Mom? He called me Mom!!! I dug in my purse and paid that man with nickels and pennies. I hadn’t been called Mom before….and I wouldn’t again for quite a long time.

It has been a roller-coaster ride, full of discoveries, both good and not so good, but every time I feel like it is just too much – I try to imagine if I hadn’t listened to God and never got them 6 years ago today. It takes my breath away at the thought. People, over the years, have told me to give them back, it’s too much for one person to handle, they didn’t come with warning labels. I smile at them all, and then tell them to do the same with their children. They look at me shocked and say it isn’t the same. But it is, in every way that matters, it is. These are MY children, the good days and the bad days, the smiles and the tears, they are all mine. My heart knows this, love isn’t about how things came to be, who brought them into this world, who deserves what titles, it is about sticking it out in the good and bad. Choosing to see the good under the fear and anger. Through everything, I know these children were made for me and that I endured all that I have previous so that I would be prepared for them. Because I was made for them too.

Happy 6th Anniversary my loves, I am only sorry I didn’t find you sooner!

So many things are pulling at me recently, honestly I physically feel the weight and try to find the reason!!?? Am I not sleeping well? Not enough nutrients? Allergies? Then I stop to think about everything that is going on and it slaps me….oh yes! Life…life is beating me down. I should recognize this after 34 years but…I don’t.  I never really realize when I am being attacked by stress, my body does, and even that doesn’t send off the right bells.

Micah is doing so well in some very important ways. He now hugs sincerely. He smiles more than ever. He hangs around me constantly (I won’t admit how annoying it can be) just to be near me.  These are HUGE! But….and this is a fairly large but, he also is failing almost all his core classes, has been denied to return to that school next year (that I worked so hard to get him into), is currently on a 3 day suspension, only has 5 more discipline points until he is completely expelled, has gotten SO RUDE with his mouth, questioning me and my decisions and fighting for the last word on everything.  I guess this really isn’t anything new…just add teenage attitude on to how it already was. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why I let him get to me the way I do. I can’t just smile him off like I do Hannah. It bothers me when he is mad – either I need to make it better or how dare he be mad at something so selfish or silly or unimportant. I need to figure myself out on this one because I am unable to handle the situation correctly until I do. The emotion takes over all my logic. The food hoarding has halted now that there is a lock on the pantry. I am waiting to see what he replaces that need with.

Hannah is getting worse. I remember Lisa telling me awhile back about RAD kids and their pupils always being dilated when they are disregulated. I found this interesting but nothing I had ever witnessed in mine. Until the last month or so. When I pick Hannah up from school, her eyes give her away. It could be the sun but they don’t change when we get inside. I realize this is nothing compared to what many of you have experienced but she had her first meltdown a couple of weeks ago. Where I had to hold her down or at least keep her from hurting herself. I ended up with many scratches on my arms but not from her intentionally hurting me, just trying to get away. When I thought it was safe to let her go, she took off toward the gate (we were in the backyard). I told her if she opened it, I would call the police. She stopped dead in her tracks and I later told her how proud I was of her being able to control herself like that. She responded with she heard a noise that scared her and she was afraid to open the gate and see what it was. I have to do a panty check whenever a skirt is worn. A shorts check has always been in play but more recently, she is trying to get out the door with nothing underneath and also without a bra. The storytelling and fantasies are never ending. I have tried lying to her about things she could get or do and then saying, well I lied. I’ve tried giving her a re-do, I’ve tried telling her to write them in her fantasy journal. These all make her mad and take us down a bigger battle. Some of her recent stories are about kids getting hurt at school and how she is always the first one to get to them and she gets to escort them to the nurse. We are talking broken limbs. I won’t lie when I say I am afraid to ask the teacher if this is truly the case because I suspect the worse. Her need for attention is truly that great.

Ann-Ellise is in the height of tantrum season. It sounds like we have some extinct dinosaur living in our home whenever something doesn’t go her way. Horrid sounds with screeches of Get Away From Me or Leave Me Alone or Fine, I Don’t Care or something equally as adorable.  Old Na*y was having a sale today so the kids got new swimsuits. She wanted to wear hers the rest of the day here at the house so I agreed. While playing in the backyard she wanted to pee in the grass. When I wouldn’t let my aspiring redneck take a leak in our backyard she proceeded to throw a 20 min fit. She was a crumpled mess on her bedroom floor screaming at me, refusing to go to the bathroom. She’s stubborn, that one.

Having mentioned I am picking up the kids from school, I’m sure I left out the “I got laid off” part. In some ways it is a blessing because of the time I get to spend with the kids. In other ways, I find myself freaking out sometimes. I was supposed to be starting a new job at the beginning of June but just found out it fell through, the company didn’t get the contract. I wish I could find I job I would enjoy instead of these positions I am qualified for. The thought of continuing this career path makes me want to barf. I know I could be great and happy at so many things but I lack the experience on paper to get anything that could actually support my family.

Also, I have recently come to the realization that I am a food addict or something comparable. I don’t eat many times in a day but when I do, I make myself miserable. I have little control over this and I have always failed at trying. I usually last a few weeks if I am lucky but the food shows to be more powerful than me. I want to change this. NOW. I am feeling guilty, like always, that I am so weak to this. I hate my appearance but it doesn’t stop the eating cycle. I avoid mirrors, going out, meeting people, and have no energy. All because of me. My kids complain that I don’t play with them and I envision the way I want to be, the way I want/used to look. I miss that girl.

I am also tired of just being a mom. I know that sounds horrible. I don’t mean that being a mom isn’t wonderful. I wouldn’t give it up for anything. I get to be a co-worker sometimes and a daughter sometimes or sister. But mainly I am a mom. I am not a friend much of the time due to time constraints. This is really a big one for me because my pre-mom life was always about my friendships – just as dear to me as my family. I now know what their parts in my life played in my happiness. I am not a girlfriend or a wife. For years…and years. Due to my own hang-ups and time constraints and….it is hard not having someone in the house to replenish me. I love and adore my children but they take and very, very rarely give. That’s ok, it isn’t their job to do that. But there are very few conversations outside of those with my kids, there are never adult, non-related, non-platonic, hugs and kisses. I never realized how much someone needs to have that.  We aren’t made to go without nurturing and above all the things I have listed above, this is the one I think that is making the largest impact on me.

I am in the middle of an empty feeling time and I know it will pass. I know things will shift. I know I am whining…

One week and three days to Katharine Leslie in Ft Worth. I am ….I was going to say excited but honestly, I am crawling through the desert to get there. It is a goal line for me. I will be better after I get there and get recharged. This is what I keep telling myself.

The babysitter is on her last days. M overheard the ringtone she has for me. Something like “The B**CH is calling! Warning!” H would make that up for the drama. M would never think to do that, he is too busy with self sabotage. TRYING to find someone, anyone, else to watch the kids while I am gone to Ft Worth but I really do need her for the next 2 weeks. Then I plan on busting her, calling her phone in front of her. What will I do after that? Who will care for the kids? IF I find a job, then mom will help until I find someone else. If I don’t, then I will be keeping my own kiddos.

Seems there has been some reorganization with the contract I am on. April 2 is my last day….

Thank you my dear friend Dia - how did you know??

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So, lovely Lisa - here is to brighter days in the near future! I am so sorry for your rain cloud! And Christine! You know you are the sunshine in so many people’s lives! And Corey, thanks for planning time IN the sunshine! So wish I could join you guys! And Jeri, we haven’t met IRL yet but I know it WILL happen!

I know, I know! This traumatized kids thing is for the birds. More than that, it’s a bunch of bull that I, the crazy mama, have pulled out of my butt because there isn’t enough excitement around here. That’s ok because I don’t expect you to understand or know about therapeutic parenting or even care. What I DO expect is for you to earn the money I pay you for, I don’t know, DOING your job. This does NOT include allowing my children to roam freely about the house without supervision. It also does NOT include allowing my kids to manipulate you which is why I repeatedly ask that they be in their rooms until I get home. Because they WILL manipulate you. They WILL lie to you. They WILL push every button you have.  Teaming up with my kids and letting them play in the garage with the understanding that if mom drives up, everyone run to their rooms is NOT a good idea. Not only have you just proven to them that you CAN be manipulated, that you do not support me, that I shouldn’t be respected but you have also put my children in a situation that they were able to accomplish this. They now feel more shame and failure on top of all the negative feelings they already have. Thank you so much for not listening to me, not taking me seriously, and completely disregarding my rules. AND THEN this morning when I confront you, thank you for lying. Your lies in general are terrible and you must think I am an incredible fool to believe any of them but today, today you didn’t even make sense. I am now looking for yet ANOTHER babysitter and hopefully I will find one soon.

Dear Mr. Boss-Man,

When I need to take care of my children and you raise an eyebrow, it doesn’t affect me the way you are hoping it will. When I need to take them to therapy and you let me know how much my family issues are harming my career, I am not scared. I am sad. I am amazed. I am confused. Career? Sir, this may be your career just like the other fellas in here that have wives raising their children. But for me, it is a job that helps me with my career, which is being a parent. I need a job, it is completely necessary and I do my job well. Never have I asked for special treatment due to my family “issues”. But if you are implying that this place should be more important to me than my children, then we can never agree. I depend on an income. I don’t want to lose this one but never will anything be put before my children’s needs. So while you are worrying about this work, I am busy doing the Lord’s work. I am not playing hookey after a late night, I am trying to give everything I have to my 3 children. Trying to get them therapy and Medicaid and clothes and baths and neuro exercises and keep them in school and keep the house from being destroyed and trying to eliminate their nightmares and horrible thoughts about their memories and keep them safe and let them know they are loved and wanted and doing the dance of loving them without terrifying them with that love and trying to smile in the face of an angry hurting child that would love to hit me until they actually did and then be overcome with shame and failure and wonder how anyone could ever love them and try to do this the best I can as quickly as it can be done to avoid the possibility that one day they may not be able to live with us anymore and I can only visit them in a facility because it didn’t happen fast enough or good enough and then I am filled with shame and failure and sadness and grief at what can never be. So Mr Boss-Man this is what I come home to everyday and wake up to every morning and think about much more in the day than you want to know. Your smart remarks are nothing compared to the fear I have every moment of not being able to succeed in my career, to help my children heal.

Dear New (and now old) Therapist,

When you are asked if you are trained in attachment therapy, it is ok to say no. It is ok to be able to treat a large part of the population but not a smaller, more specific group of people. It is a waste of all our time for us to come in for a two hour session where you question me in front of my children. Where I sit and watch my son completely manipulate you and you totally fall for it. Then you turn to me and question my rules and why things have to be a certain way. No I can’t trust him to play in the front yard alone. I can’t trust him to go to the mailbox because he took matches and started fires. I know he wants to be more like a “normal” kid, I would love for that to be too but….it CAN’T happen. Why am I having to explain this to you? You are the professional and when I say stealing to my son is all the same whether it is a magazine or a TV it means I have to treat it the same too. I know kids like to sneak sweets and it it normal for them to do, but my son hoards food and steals from anyone that has anything he wants. He doesn’t understand the difference between  a cookie and a video game so don’t tell me (in front of him) to let him have cookies everyday and then he should probably stop stealing them. I wish it were that easy. And my daughter that lies should not have a point system where if she stays below her set limit of lies for the week I will take her skating. Let me break this down. My daughter doesn’t lie just to keep herself out of trouble. She lies because she can. She lies to take herself to another place because this one is too scary. She is riddled with anxiety and can’t just stop because it has a prize involved. Once again, I wish it was that easy. Second, point systems don’t work with RAD kids. I can give you 100 books and websites where you can learn all about that. Third, I know she loves skating. She loves going to many places but unfortunately I am a single mom of three children. And ALL 3 of them are unable to be unsupervised. A skating rink where there are tons of little boys for her to “play” with, for my son to be able to fill up his pockets, and a 3 year old that could get swiped at any moment is NOT my favorite place to go as the only adult. You want to see anxiety??? I know what works, what provides the safest environment for them and what I can handle easily. Don’t raise your eyebrow at that, especially in front of my children who at this point are BEAMING because you set me straight, didn’t you? They will be so sad to learn we won’t be back because for just a little while today, they manipulated another adult and watched their mom be undermined and to them, disrespected to the point that all their dreams were about to come true. They were about to rule the world. But I have to pull that rug out from under them, thanks. I can’t wait.

Dear H,

I know it’s been a long day – you have no idea how long mine has been. I know you don’t want to sleep in your bed tonight, or your room, and you want to battle this more than normal tonight. I suggest the radio and an uplifting book to fall asleep to but instead you thought puking in your bed would better convince me. Darling, the finger down the throat thing? Really? That’s ok honey, let’s strip the bed instead of getting the baby to sleep. There, bedding completely changed out, radio is on, kisses are given and…well you look happy now…..love you too.

The End.