This has been one of those weeks that I am glad to see wrapping up. We have just had a lot of stuff going on. First the great news! I got an email from Fiona's school this week to let me know that she had created a Jeopardy style game in school. It was her own idea and the finished product was used successfully for the kids between two classes and pertained to a subject they had been studying. They are going to tweak the concept and keep it as a part of the curriculum. I was so psyched to hear this! Fiona is amazingly creative and that it could be utilized in her scholastic curriculum is beyond fantastic.
This was "review" week at my job. It is my first review with our new company after my 90 day probationary one back in March of last year. They rate you very differently from my former employer. I guess I scored well but I was not really happy. I was given about 8 minutes to discuss my feelings on the ratings and it was hard to do that in 8 minutes and not sound defensive or adversarial. But, really, being told to "think outside the box" when one does federal paperwork is an odd comment. As is being told to one does not do well staying in the budget when one does not purchase things or even order them (other than copy paper??) I am apparently getting a small bonus so it wasn't all bad, it was just sort of weird.
Then K went in for what we thought was her review and it turned out they were eliminating her position effective immediately. I felt really badly for her. She loved what she did with the kids there and was very very good at it. It just is not the thrust of our new company to work with kids. Does not matter I guess that 380 of them live there . . . So that was a pretty rough night emotionally for us all. She actually has an interview next week with a YMCA where the hours look flexible enough to work with our family. And has a resume in to a local optompetrist looking for clerical help evenings which would also be ideal. We will see. On the plus side, there are definately more job options out there than there were about 6 months ago. And we can get by on our piece work and my salary it is just that there is no cushion which is not a good way to live. Something will happen. Windows close, doors open, etc.
My mom emailed me and she and her boyfriend of several years have called it quits. He has decided somewhat precipitously to relocate to the south and Mom is understandably grieving. I feel badly and am trying to help her see that this does not mean she spends holidays alone forever, that she is always welcome to be with us and the kids were ecstatic at the idea of more nana time. But she had visions that had a different story and it is hard to let that go and move on.
So, we will see what the new week will hold. . .
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Monday, April 23, 2012
And then he was 8???
Sunday, April 22, 2012
A Caring Faith Community
Claudia at http://www.fletcherclan.blogspot.com/ wrote a post a few days ago asking people what their experiences had been finding a faith community that embraced their family. The reason was that many adoptive families find that the behaviors of their traumatized children are misunderstood by others, or anger others, and the adoptive parents become marginalized in their church community and often flat out unwelcome.
When Chet was young we belonged to a small church in our community. It is the church I pretty much grew up in. My grandparents went to that church. My grandmother and my mother served as directors of the children's programming. My father was on the search committee that called a new minister when I was in my teens. I too was heavily involved as a young parent. I was in charge of the children's programming with my wife. I was the chair of the parish committee. I served on many other committees. And when Chet was a young pre-teen, I left.
I left because I was tired. I was tired of my child being held to an essentially higher and unattainable standard because I was so involved in the church. I was tired of worrying--of trying to guess what each trigger would be and prevent it or manage it so that Chet did not draw negative attention to himself. I was tired of my child being labelled. I actually worked with a minister there who introduced me to a new family as the "parent of the little ADHD boy from India." Chet had so much more than ADHD going on I suppose I should be grateful. Instead I went home and cried. THAT was how he saw my son? He did not see the enthusiasm with which he worked packing food each month as part of the SHARE program? He did not see his happy cheerful demeanor each Sunday at church? He did not see the energy he brought to everything he did?
I wanted my son to have a meaningful coming of age experience. I knew that this could not happen in my local church. There were not enough children of his age. Additionally we were a family that stood out even if Chet had not had behavioral difficulties. We were a gay couple, who had adopted transracially. I wanted to have a faith community where we were one of a number of similar situations.
Ultimately this meant that I had to be willing to drive 35 minutes to church each Sunday. But our church has a lot of families built through adoption just like ours. It has families that are gay. It has families that are transracial. It has families whose children struggle. And we all work together to try and make sure that everyone has a meaningul worshipful experience.
When Chet went through coming of age, I was invited to speak with the group of young teens that comprised his COA class. The teens and the mentors wanted to know how to help Chet have a meaningful experience and how to interact with him. They were open to discussing his triggers, what to do or say when he became stressed or fixated and how to help him participate in group experiences. I remember crying when I finished the workshop. Not because of sadness, because it was the first time that I felt that a group of people looked at my son and saw him as a person they wanted to respond to. Not a person they wanted to label and push to the side. Chet went through the whole coming of age experience, including the retreat and the vision questing component. His experiences were deep and profound and his presence there did not cause anyone to have a less meaningful experience of their own.
As Chet moved into young adulthood he no longer wanted to sit with his family in church. There are not a lot of experiences or ways that he can successfully asert his independence but church was one of those places. Because his autism causes him to miss social nuances or misinterpret social cues though, it was not possible to just let him sit anywhere on his own. When the minister would ask a rhetorical question (or one that most people would silently ponder) Chet thought he should shout out his reponse. LOL He is wiggly and twitchy and easily distracted by noises as filtering his environment is hard for him.
Our church has a disability task force. The group have made our facility handicapped assessible in a myriad of ways. Wheelchairs can get in and out of the sanctuary and the bathrooms. There are hearing asistance devices and large print hymnals available. And they helped Chet. They met with me and said that they would be willing to work with me to train "church buddies" who would take turns sitting with Chet to help him handle his sanctuary experience in a way that would not detract from the experience of others. I trained about 6 people. All were kind and open. Many said that they didn't know Chet was disabled, but they all thought he was a lot younger age wise than he truly was. (if he was 18 or so when we did this, they were pegging him at 15) None of them understood until we talked extensively that the kind of typical banter one would do with a teen was confusing to him and would lead to an escalation of behaviors.
For about 2 years we intensively relied on the "buddy" system. He would sit with a trained buddy at service and I would hook up with him at coffee hour time. Usually I just came over and chatted up the buddy about something--sermon topic, upcoming event, the weather (LOL) and after a few minutes they would say goodbye to Chet and get to enjoy the remainder of fellowship on their own.
Chet is 26 now. He hasn't needed a weekly buddy for some time. He can and does learn. Or if not learn, absorbs a pattern if it is consistant. Most Sundays he sits by himself very proudly in the specific chair that the task force found for him. (Due to sensory issues our wooden pews caused him to fidget excessively and complain that they made his leg go numb. They found a padded chair and put it in the back of the church in a quiet location for him. He can see the entire panorama of the service without feeling the need to swivel around and see who is behind him. He helps with the ushering. He helps with setting out the food at fellowship. He will come early and help set up for an event. His enthusiasm and desire to help remain as boundless as when he was a youngster.
But the climate of our church is really what makes the difference. The warmth and the welcoming and yes, the accommodating, make this not just a place to reflect and be in relationship with the Source, but also a place where I know my entire family is welcome.
When Chet was young we belonged to a small church in our community. It is the church I pretty much grew up in. My grandparents went to that church. My grandmother and my mother served as directors of the children's programming. My father was on the search committee that called a new minister when I was in my teens. I too was heavily involved as a young parent. I was in charge of the children's programming with my wife. I was the chair of the parish committee. I served on many other committees. And when Chet was a young pre-teen, I left.
I left because I was tired. I was tired of my child being held to an essentially higher and unattainable standard because I was so involved in the church. I was tired of worrying--of trying to guess what each trigger would be and prevent it or manage it so that Chet did not draw negative attention to himself. I was tired of my child being labelled. I actually worked with a minister there who introduced me to a new family as the "parent of the little ADHD boy from India." Chet had so much more than ADHD going on I suppose I should be grateful. Instead I went home and cried. THAT was how he saw my son? He did not see the enthusiasm with which he worked packing food each month as part of the SHARE program? He did not see his happy cheerful demeanor each Sunday at church? He did not see the energy he brought to everything he did?
I wanted my son to have a meaningful coming of age experience. I knew that this could not happen in my local church. There were not enough children of his age. Additionally we were a family that stood out even if Chet had not had behavioral difficulties. We were a gay couple, who had adopted transracially. I wanted to have a faith community where we were one of a number of similar situations.
Ultimately this meant that I had to be willing to drive 35 minutes to church each Sunday. But our church has a lot of families built through adoption just like ours. It has families that are gay. It has families that are transracial. It has families whose children struggle. And we all work together to try and make sure that everyone has a meaningul worshipful experience.
When Chet went through coming of age, I was invited to speak with the group of young teens that comprised his COA class. The teens and the mentors wanted to know how to help Chet have a meaningful experience and how to interact with him. They were open to discussing his triggers, what to do or say when he became stressed or fixated and how to help him participate in group experiences. I remember crying when I finished the workshop. Not because of sadness, because it was the first time that I felt that a group of people looked at my son and saw him as a person they wanted to respond to. Not a person they wanted to label and push to the side. Chet went through the whole coming of age experience, including the retreat and the vision questing component. His experiences were deep and profound and his presence there did not cause anyone to have a less meaningful experience of their own.
As Chet moved into young adulthood he no longer wanted to sit with his family in church. There are not a lot of experiences or ways that he can successfully asert his independence but church was one of those places. Because his autism causes him to miss social nuances or misinterpret social cues though, it was not possible to just let him sit anywhere on his own. When the minister would ask a rhetorical question (or one that most people would silently ponder) Chet thought he should shout out his reponse. LOL He is wiggly and twitchy and easily distracted by noises as filtering his environment is hard for him.
Our church has a disability task force. The group have made our facility handicapped assessible in a myriad of ways. Wheelchairs can get in and out of the sanctuary and the bathrooms. There are hearing asistance devices and large print hymnals available. And they helped Chet. They met with me and said that they would be willing to work with me to train "church buddies" who would take turns sitting with Chet to help him handle his sanctuary experience in a way that would not detract from the experience of others. I trained about 6 people. All were kind and open. Many said that they didn't know Chet was disabled, but they all thought he was a lot younger age wise than he truly was. (if he was 18 or so when we did this, they were pegging him at 15) None of them understood until we talked extensively that the kind of typical banter one would do with a teen was confusing to him and would lead to an escalation of behaviors.
For about 2 years we intensively relied on the "buddy" system. He would sit with a trained buddy at service and I would hook up with him at coffee hour time. Usually I just came over and chatted up the buddy about something--sermon topic, upcoming event, the weather (LOL) and after a few minutes they would say goodbye to Chet and get to enjoy the remainder of fellowship on their own.
Chet is 26 now. He hasn't needed a weekly buddy for some time. He can and does learn. Or if not learn, absorbs a pattern if it is consistant. Most Sundays he sits by himself very proudly in the specific chair that the task force found for him. (Due to sensory issues our wooden pews caused him to fidget excessively and complain that they made his leg go numb. They found a padded chair and put it in the back of the church in a quiet location for him. He can see the entire panorama of the service without feeling the need to swivel around and see who is behind him. He helps with the ushering. He helps with setting out the food at fellowship. He will come early and help set up for an event. His enthusiasm and desire to help remain as boundless as when he was a youngster.
But the climate of our church is really what makes the difference. The warmth and the welcoming and yes, the accommodating, make this not just a place to reflect and be in relationship with the Source, but also a place where I know my entire family is welcome.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Guardianship for Fiona
A comment on my blog asked if I had considered becoming Fiona's legal guardian. This is very much a possibility if things go well. In Fiona's case, she is supposed to be able to remain at the Great School till age 22 so we have 2 more years before there will be a transition. The main fly in the ointment is that the DCF who still oversee her case did not want to transfer oversight up here. We are significantly away distance wise and I feel to be as present as I want to be and as I should be in Fiona's life, we need to be geographically closer.
Recently DCF has begun to make noises that they would reconsider this edict which would allow us to look into DMR and DMH services in my area and group homes etc that are much closer to us. Jane is very supportive of this and so was Fi's last social worker--who went out on maternity leave 2 weeks ago and now we have to explain all this to the new worker.
I don't live with uncertainty particularly well. The ambiguity of all this drives me round the bend. When I get stressed about this though, I remind myself that my daughter has lived with this her whole life. With other people calling the shots, with moves she has had no input in and control over, with general uncertainty. So I will keep trying my best and hope for the best and support Fiona in whatever way I can.
Recently DCF has begun to make noises that they would reconsider this edict which would allow us to look into DMR and DMH services in my area and group homes etc that are much closer to us. Jane is very supportive of this and so was Fi's last social worker--who went out on maternity leave 2 weeks ago and now we have to explain all this to the new worker.
I don't live with uncertainty particularly well. The ambiguity of all this drives me round the bend. When I get stressed about this though, I remind myself that my daughter has lived with this her whole life. With other people calling the shots, with moves she has had no input in and control over, with general uncertainty. So I will keep trying my best and hope for the best and support Fiona in whatever way I can.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Hating my job tonight
So we all have days when our job is not sunshine and roses. Sigh. But I hate my job tonight. Today one of the residents where I work had a mental health crisis. This resulted in the person making a choice to behave in a way that could be interpreted as threatening and involved a weapon. In reality it was pretty clear to me at the scene that he was really intent on self harm and looking for a way to cry out for help. Thus taking the crisis to the admin area where I work. At no time did anyone get hurt and the weapon was removed from h is possession without incident. The police were called and he will hopefully have the help he needs to stabalize.
But the incident will cause my employer to take steps that will impact detrimentally on this person. I understand that they are not taking this course lightly and that showing up in an office with a weapon is never a great thing. It isn't exactly the first time I have dealt with this in my 30 years of employment though so I am pretty unflappable. LOL I suggested a couple of alternatives to their more drastic steps and they will not be implemented.
I know my company is doing what they need to do from a business standpoint, but my heart hurts for this person and their family. Mental illness is a tough tough thing to deal with. In my biological family I have several people with significant mental health issues. There have been attempts at self harm. There have been hospitalizations.
My daughter Fiona deals with mental health issues that in many ways are similar to this young person's. I worry that someday there will not be someone there who can talk her down and will instead take her down. Who will not see the pain and see only a threat. I wish as a society we were brave enough to choose the road of compassion more often.
But the incident will cause my employer to take steps that will impact detrimentally on this person. I understand that they are not taking this course lightly and that showing up in an office with a weapon is never a great thing. It isn't exactly the first time I have dealt with this in my 30 years of employment though so I am pretty unflappable. LOL I suggested a couple of alternatives to their more drastic steps and they will not be implemented.
I know my company is doing what they need to do from a business standpoint, but my heart hurts for this person and their family. Mental illness is a tough tough thing to deal with. In my biological family I have several people with significant mental health issues. There have been attempts at self harm. There have been hospitalizations.
My daughter Fiona deals with mental health issues that in many ways are similar to this young person's. I worry that someday there will not be someone there who can talk her down and will instead take her down. Who will not see the pain and see only a threat. I wish as a society we were brave enough to choose the road of compassion more often.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
No Call From Fiona
Jane called last night to let me know that Fiona was not making a call. Jane had been postponing telling me because KC had desperately hoped that Fiona would call to wish him Happy Birthday. Jane hoped that he had forgotten. Not a chance. When the phone rang he ran following me into the room where I sit to talk and mouthed "Is it my sister for me." Sigh. Trauma keeps on hurting.
The thing that worries me the most is finding a way for Fiona to successfully "re-enter" her life so to speak after a visit. I am lucky that the team at the Great School are supportive of visits even when there is increasing emotional fall out after one. I worry that if we don't get things to be a bit calmer that we could have our visits curtailed in some way. Now mind you, I don't know that would happen. That is just my irrational brain responding to the situation and the bad things that have happened over the years in the past when we were trying to visit. At some point, Fiona will graduate from the Great School and I don't know that a new placement will be as thoughtful and open minded as the team where she is now.
Sigh. There is no answer obviously. I need to just trust that we can work on the healing and that things will be okay. And repeat that over and over to myself.
The thing that worries me the most is finding a way for Fiona to successfully "re-enter" her life so to speak after a visit. I am lucky that the team at the Great School are supportive of visits even when there is increasing emotional fall out after one. I worry that if we don't get things to be a bit calmer that we could have our visits curtailed in some way. Now mind you, I don't know that would happen. That is just my irrational brain responding to the situation and the bad things that have happened over the years in the past when we were trying to visit. At some point, Fiona will graduate from the Great School and I don't know that a new placement will be as thoughtful and open minded as the team where she is now.
Sigh. There is no answer obviously. I need to just trust that we can work on the healing and that things will be okay. And repeat that over and over to myself.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Fiona's Visit
Yesterday Fiona came out for a family visit. She and Jane arrived about 12:30 or 1 p.m. and they didn't leave till nearly 4:30, making it the longest visit we have been allowed to have since Fiona went to the Great School in the Big City. Jane only stayed about 15 minutes at the front end and then she and her dog excused themselves. In a totally amazing and lucky turn of events, we have the most non territorial dog in America who truly thinks Jane's dog is his new B.F.F. and can't wait for the dog to show up! He doesn't mind if Jets comes in the house, plays with his toys, pees in his yard. . . but I digress.
After Jane left, I got lunch together with Rob and Fiona helped with dessert (decorating cupcakes). We had a nice, easy lunch together and then cleaned up and went down to our local mall to play Glow Golf. The kids and I have never played glow in the dark mini golf before. It is a trip! LOL At least being in near darkness gave me a reason to be a bad golfer! Everyone had fun and there was no drama.
Fiona is a bit of a shop-a-holic. LOL Totally appropriate for a young woman, but not something I can do all the time with the age spread of my gang. We attempted to visit a store after the golfing but Lissa had had enough and showed the whole store and her big sister just how done she was with all of this! Fi was gracious about it and I carried the now sobbing tired Lissa the length of the mall to our exit to the car. Explains why I have a lower back ache today I suspect. :-)
Back home we played out in the back yard for almost an hour, came in and had a cool drink and then before we knew it Jane and her pooch had arrived back at the house. I reminded Fiona to take her prn med and she did so without incident. This is a mild extra dose that is supposed to help her handle the stress of leaving and going back to school. Previous visits have had some pretty hard days post visit for her and thoughtful review by the team resulted in the suggestion that this small dose might be all she needs. Once she is integrated back at school things are usually okay. It is the getting back in the groove, those first few hours, that are 'make or break' for her and transitions have always been really tough for her regardless of what they are for. The problem was getting Fiona on board with trying this and so I had made it part of our visit plan. I don't know that it is "right," but did feel it was worth a try.
Jane had also asked if we would do a typical de-briefing of our feelings as a group with Fiona which we all did. KC and Lissa were characteristically open about things for the most part. Rob, his typical reticent self. He is willing to openly own positive feelings, it is much harder for him to verbalize things like "angry" "anxious" etc. But he made a solid effort and I think it went well.
I am hoping and praying that Fiona feels how much we love her and how much a part of our life she is. Above all, she is my eldest daughter and she will always hold a special place in my heart.
After Jane left, I got lunch together with Rob and Fiona helped with dessert (decorating cupcakes). We had a nice, easy lunch together and then cleaned up and went down to our local mall to play Glow Golf. The kids and I have never played glow in the dark mini golf before. It is a trip! LOL At least being in near darkness gave me a reason to be a bad golfer! Everyone had fun and there was no drama.
Fiona is a bit of a shop-a-holic. LOL Totally appropriate for a young woman, but not something I can do all the time with the age spread of my gang. We attempted to visit a store after the golfing but Lissa had had enough and showed the whole store and her big sister just how done she was with all of this! Fi was gracious about it and I carried the now sobbing tired Lissa the length of the mall to our exit to the car. Explains why I have a lower back ache today I suspect. :-)
Back home we played out in the back yard for almost an hour, came in and had a cool drink and then before we knew it Jane and her pooch had arrived back at the house. I reminded Fiona to take her prn med and she did so without incident. This is a mild extra dose that is supposed to help her handle the stress of leaving and going back to school. Previous visits have had some pretty hard days post visit for her and thoughtful review by the team resulted in the suggestion that this small dose might be all she needs. Once she is integrated back at school things are usually okay. It is the getting back in the groove, those first few hours, that are 'make or break' for her and transitions have always been really tough for her regardless of what they are for. The problem was getting Fiona on board with trying this and so I had made it part of our visit plan. I don't know that it is "right," but did feel it was worth a try.
Jane had also asked if we would do a typical de-briefing of our feelings as a group with Fiona which we all did. KC and Lissa were characteristically open about things for the most part. Rob, his typical reticent self. He is willing to openly own positive feelings, it is much harder for him to verbalize things like "angry" "anxious" etc. But he made a solid effort and I think it went well.
I am hoping and praying that Fiona feels how much we love her and how much a part of our life she is. Above all, she is my eldest daughter and she will always hold a special place in my heart.
Real Mothers and the Adoption Controversy
There have been some excellent posts written lately about the subject of "real" mothers. You know, that question that adoptive parents sometimes get from clue less strangers when you least expect it. (i.e. you are tired, your child is ill, you are stressed, etc) "Oh, excuse me, are you his/her real mother?" In the world of first parents, we are not. And it took a long time for me to come to terms with this. I suspect I am a slow learner. But I can only come to a situation from my own experience and this is not as a first parent.
I used to be really angry when I was asked this. Maybe part of me felt my abilities as a parent were being questioned in the early days. Later I just got angry because frankly, if I am in ER because my daughter had a traumatic injury caused by jumping off ourcouch, I do not expect to be asked such a question or the follow-up winner of insensitivity--"Oh by the way, where did you get her?" Really? You went to med school and managed to come out with that? (for those who care, I wrote a letter to the editor of our newspaper regarding that tidbit of insensitivity.)
But I am rambling. Nowadays, this does not bother me. Because my answer is that I am one of their real mothers. I am not their first mother. I did not experience that miracle of birth. But for a myriad of private reasons, none of my children would not have been safe and would not have thrived in their first families. For their sakes, I wish that was different. But cycles of addiction and abuse and the toll of mental illness take a long time to break. But I also don't believe we risk children while on the altar of family preservation. They are too precious and too easily harmed. Harmed in ways we see and ways that are harder to know. So in a nutshell I think my kids are safer in our home. Are they happier? Not necessarily. This does not mean they are unhappy, but I know that being here, even being loved with every fiber of my being, does not negate the loss that is the yin to adoptions yang.
In one of my favorite books, The Velveteen Rabbit a stuffed rabbit became real when he was loved. I became a real mother through loving. That's real enough for me.
I used to be really angry when I was asked this. Maybe part of me felt my abilities as a parent were being questioned in the early days. Later I just got angry because frankly, if I am in ER because my daughter had a traumatic injury caused by jumping off ourcouch, I do not expect to be asked such a question or the follow-up winner of insensitivity--"Oh by the way, where did you get her?" Really? You went to med school and managed to come out with that? (for those who care, I wrote a letter to the editor of our newspaper regarding that tidbit of insensitivity.)
But I am rambling. Nowadays, this does not bother me. Because my answer is that I am one of their real mothers. I am not their first mother. I did not experience that miracle of birth. But for a myriad of private reasons, none of my children would not have been safe and would not have thrived in their first families. For their sakes, I wish that was different. But cycles of addiction and abuse and the toll of mental illness take a long time to break. But I also don't believe we risk children while on the altar of family preservation. They are too precious and too easily harmed. Harmed in ways we see and ways that are harder to know. So in a nutshell I think my kids are safer in our home. Are they happier? Not necessarily. This does not mean they are unhappy, but I know that being here, even being loved with every fiber of my being, does not negate the loss that is the yin to adoptions yang.
In one of my favorite books, The Velveteen Rabbit a stuffed rabbit became real when he was loved. I became a real mother through loving. That's real enough for me.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Rob and KC at 8
Next Tuesday, KC turns 8! It always catches me off guard somehow when the kids are woosh--another year older. But for him, 8 is a "big deal" birthday. He feels like he will be soooo much bigger and able to do things that were not possible at 7. (I think this fact is a bit tied to our upcoming Disney trip and the fact that it may make some experiences there possible.) For me, I think it is a memorable birthday because he will be turning the same age that Rob was when he was born. In so many ways, I see glimpses of "little Rob" in the things that KC likes and does. Books that Rob loved then are faves of KC. Dangerous bike tricks that made me cringe with Rob have come back to revisit my thinning hair with KC. LOL
What is different, is the expression of feelings. Rob at 8 could not do that. It wasn't safe. It wasn't even anything he was remotely experienced in doing. He smiled at all the right times. He participated in the event or experience. But he wasn't deeply connected. He was too afraid.
When Rob was 8, I was ignorant of that. My only other experience raising a child at that time was Chet who due to his autism was always different in his responses. So to me, back then, Rob was fine. It is mostly by knowing Rob now and seeing the changes in him that I know how very not fine he was then. And by seeing how open KC is with his thoughts and feelings as well.
This doesn't mean I think I would have done anything differently with Rob. In some ways, I think ignorance was bliss. It let him take in as much as he was able without demands for more from him. And I am a very attachment oriented parent who always has lots of cuddles, together time, notes on pillows, etc so I think he was constantly getting told and shown how much he was loved. It just took a long time for his heart to feel safe enough to believe it.
What is different, is the expression of feelings. Rob at 8 could not do that. It wasn't safe. It wasn't even anything he was remotely experienced in doing. He smiled at all the right times. He participated in the event or experience. But he wasn't deeply connected. He was too afraid.
When Rob was 8, I was ignorant of that. My only other experience raising a child at that time was Chet who due to his autism was always different in his responses. So to me, back then, Rob was fine. It is mostly by knowing Rob now and seeing the changes in him that I know how very not fine he was then. And by seeing how open KC is with his thoughts and feelings as well.
This doesn't mean I think I would have done anything differently with Rob. In some ways, I think ignorance was bliss. It let him take in as much as he was able without demands for more from him. And I am a very attachment oriented parent who always has lots of cuddles, together time, notes on pillows, etc so I think he was constantly getting told and shown how much he was loved. It just took a long time for his heart to feel safe enough to believe it.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Justice for Traevon
Today, I read that George Zimmerman will at last face charges. A man kills a young boy and it takes weeks for the wheels of justice to turn. At least it does if you are a young black man. The ensuing character assasination that took place against Traevon made me cringe. We all know that kids do stupid things. Whatever he got suspended from school for had nothing to do with being killed walking on a city street. Unarmed on a city street.
What happened to Traevon is in my mind when I let Rob go off to hang out at the park with friends. I can't put him in a bubble. I can teach him to try and be smart in his choices, but I know that the same thing said/done by a white kid will not end the same way for my handsome dark skinned son. And I worry.
We have so far to go. This is only a small first step in a long march.
What happened to Traevon is in my mind when I let Rob go off to hang out at the park with friends. I can't put him in a bubble. I can teach him to try and be smart in his choices, but I know that the same thing said/done by a white kid will not end the same way for my handsome dark skinned son. And I worry.
We have so far to go. This is only a small first step in a long march.
Fiona's Coming to Visit!
Fiona comes for an essentially unsupervised 3 hour family visit this Saturday! I am so excited. She will arrive noonish which is great as the kids can't really miss dance class. Recital is but weeks away and KC is so into dance. We will do lunch here at home. She wanted to eat out but I said she could help me get lunch instead. (LOL) Eating out is fun but we also want to go to a glow in the dark mini golf place at our nearby mall and I know it will take a while for a family our size to get through the course. Then we will come home and make some cupcakes to have a small early birthday honoring for KC. His birthday is Tuesday (more on that in a future post) and I think she will enjoy being part of things. It isn't a big presenty event Saturday, just decorating the cupcakes together and singing happy birthday. Then we will play out in the back yard weather permitting before it is time for her to go back to the Great School.
I am incredibly lucky because Amazing Jane is transporting both ways and that is a huge blessing to me. I have had a fair number of migraines lately. (a combo of work stress, spring allergies and who knows what) But it makes me edgy about distance driving and I abhor city driving at the best of times.
I am so glad she will be home with us for a fairly extended visit.
I am incredibly lucky because Amazing Jane is transporting both ways and that is a huge blessing to me. I have had a fair number of migraines lately. (a combo of work stress, spring allergies and who knows what) But it makes me edgy about distance driving and I abhor city driving at the best of times.
I am so glad she will be home with us for a fairly extended visit.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
The Elephant in the Room
I don't really talk about my father. If there is an "elephant in the room" in my life, it is him. And the lack of love he showed me, the lack of relationship that we were unable to develop. The lack of respect that I have for him for his life choices and. . . blech, this is sounding whiny and bitter and that was not my intent. This is also my third time trying to write this post. An all time record for someone who typically dashes off a post in a couple of minutes!
I got an email this weekend from my mom. She wanted to let me know that she had heard from my sister and sis had told her that my father has skin cancer. They are apparently unsure if it has spread to other organs. I should feel sad I guess. But I have not heard from him since Chet was about 3 or 4 years old. He moved across the country and never said goodbye. He moved in July that year and let me know with a Christmas card. I felt like a schmuck because I had been trying to contact him and could not figure out what was up. He had said good bye to my sister. They have always had a strong relationship.
It would be easy to pin the disconnect on my sexual orientation. And it may play a role. But we didn't even get along well when I was a little kid and I doubt I had any thoughts to my sexual identity when I was 7 or 8 years old. Not even when I was 9 or 10 for that matter.
I always knew though that I wasn't good enough. I wasn't what he wanted--whatever that way. Hey what that was, was my sister. Someone who didn't want to question, who didn't always want the back story, whose middle name was not "why?" LOL
For me there are too many memories of times that should have been glowing memories that his actions and comments turned sad or sour. Graduation from high school (with honors no less!) was one of those. I never look at those pictures because my eyes are swollen from crying.
I had to write this really awkward post to my mom that I hoped for his sake and my sisters that his diagnosis has a positive outcome and that at the very least, I hope they are able to pull off her visit to his state this July. But frankly I feel more empathy for some of my residents where I work. I know them and I can't really say that about my father. I had this really deep fear that my mother wanted me to have some "Tears of Endearment" moment with him but thankfully I think she sort of understood. Sometimes people leave before they ever actually check out of this plane of existance.
I got an email this weekend from my mom. She wanted to let me know that she had heard from my sister and sis had told her that my father has skin cancer. They are apparently unsure if it has spread to other organs. I should feel sad I guess. But I have not heard from him since Chet was about 3 or 4 years old. He moved across the country and never said goodbye. He moved in July that year and let me know with a Christmas card. I felt like a schmuck because I had been trying to contact him and could not figure out what was up. He had said good bye to my sister. They have always had a strong relationship.
It would be easy to pin the disconnect on my sexual orientation. And it may play a role. But we didn't even get along well when I was a little kid and I doubt I had any thoughts to my sexual identity when I was 7 or 8 years old. Not even when I was 9 or 10 for that matter.
I always knew though that I wasn't good enough. I wasn't what he wanted--whatever that way. Hey what that was, was my sister. Someone who didn't want to question, who didn't always want the back story, whose middle name was not "why?" LOL
For me there are too many memories of times that should have been glowing memories that his actions and comments turned sad or sour. Graduation from high school (with honors no less!) was one of those. I never look at those pictures because my eyes are swollen from crying.
I had to write this really awkward post to my mom that I hoped for his sake and my sisters that his diagnosis has a positive outcome and that at the very least, I hope they are able to pull off her visit to his state this July. But frankly I feel more empathy for some of my residents where I work. I know them and I can't really say that about my father. I had this really deep fear that my mother wanted me to have some "Tears of Endearment" moment with him but thankfully I think she sort of understood. Sometimes people leave before they ever actually check out of this plane of existance.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Looking Sharp!
Came home and the hike we had hoped for did not really pan out. It was cloudy and spitting rain and frankly cold. Where we hike it is typically 10 degrees colder than our locations average temps which would have made it mid 30's. Blech. The kids were devastated though so I wound up taking them up to the park so we could try out their new soccer ball and run off some of the days excess energy. K stayed back and the ranch and relaxed.
Tonight we will have a nice supper, culminating with our "Hoppy Easter" cake and then it will be early beds for some wee folks!
Hoppy Easter!
It is 7:30 a.m. and my tribe is outside playing with their new Easter stuff. The neighbors are going to love us! LOL They woke at 5:30 ish and I held them at bay till quarter to 6. Then lightly breakfasted them and the hunt was on! At our house the Easter Bunny leaves each person clues and these are hidden in colored plastic eggs. Every person has their own color of egg to hunt for, minimizing the chance of someone taking the wrong clue. Lissa's clues are pictures at this point, but the older kids have written rhymes. There is very little candy left by the bunny here. Each basket for everyone but Chet had bubble wands, jump ropes, and an outside ball. A football for Rob, soccer ball for Lissa and a volley ball for KC. Oh and they each had squishy bunny toys. Chet got peeps and some jewelry.
Hopefully they will all burn off some energy as we don't leave for church until 10ish! I love the laughter and the excitement though. They are so darn funny to watch and listen to.
Hopefully they will all burn off some energy as we don't leave for church until 10ish! I love the laughter and the excitement though. They are so darn funny to watch and listen to.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Shopping with Rob
A week or ten days ago, I asked Rob if he wanted to get "fancy" clothes for Easter. He has always wanted to dress up in the past but now I live with a teen who wears skinny jeans, thinks belts should be worn BELOW the belt loops and ones boxers are an um fashion statement! LOL So I wasn't surprised when he said no, and chose to order a buffalo plaid shirt that was festive only because it was yellow and black. However this order on the internet appears to be coming rather literally on the slow boat from China and not likely to arrive in time for Sunday. So when KC's suit arrived on Thursday night, Rob finally realized. . . that he wanted a stylish look too. He watched KC strutting around in the suit and fedora, took me aside and said quietly "I want to look kind of like that." So off we went to his favorite retailer. The one with the red star for those who shop with teen boys and truly want to know! LOL
We took the escalator to the mens dept. I asked Rob if he had a color in mind for his outfit. He nodded affirmatively. "Orange, " he announced. Um, orange? I explain that this is not really that Easter/spring kind of color. But gamely I find a selection of orange ties and show him. I suggest that perhaps one of these strikes his fancy and he can build the outfit around that pop of color. I give myself points for creativity.
And watch my teen pick out a lime green bow tie. Yes, really bright, really shiny lime green bow tie. Hmmmm. I ask what color shirt he envisions with this. Purple, he immediately responds. I bite my tongue before I can blurt out, "so you want to look like a contusion?" and help him find a purple shirt. It meets with approval and we are on a roll, charging into the pants department where he finds a pair of sleek black pants and a black vest. I figure we are done and start pep stepping to the checkout (have I ever mentioned that I loathe shopping?) Rob pulls me up short with "But I still need a new hat." OK, we are led to the fedoras. He peruses them carefully and finally selects a gray one.
"Gray?" I ask feebley. (wondering as I hear the words coming out of my mouth WHY I feel compelled to even say this. . . ) "But honey you have a lot of colors going on and no other gray. Do you think you should change up your pants for gray?" He agrees.
Back to the pants department where 20 minutes later we unearth the one pair of 30/30 gray slacks in the entire dept.
The best part for me was checking out. (at so many levels because as i have all ready mentioned I despise shopping) But our clerk was an older woman and she looked at me, there with 2 of my handsome young sons who look nothing like me. And all she saw was a family. She commented on how handsome my son would look in what he had chosen. I said yes, and that all my kids now had their Easter outfits, though I had yet to get myself anything new.
"That's the way we moms are, " she answered smiling. "And we like it that way." She's right
We took the escalator to the mens dept. I asked Rob if he had a color in mind for his outfit. He nodded affirmatively. "Orange, " he announced. Um, orange? I explain that this is not really that Easter/spring kind of color. But gamely I find a selection of orange ties and show him. I suggest that perhaps one of these strikes his fancy and he can build the outfit around that pop of color. I give myself points for creativity.
And watch my teen pick out a lime green bow tie. Yes, really bright, really shiny lime green bow tie. Hmmmm. I ask what color shirt he envisions with this. Purple, he immediately responds. I bite my tongue before I can blurt out, "so you want to look like a contusion?" and help him find a purple shirt. It meets with approval and we are on a roll, charging into the pants department where he finds a pair of sleek black pants and a black vest. I figure we are done and start pep stepping to the checkout (have I ever mentioned that I loathe shopping?) Rob pulls me up short with "But I still need a new hat." OK, we are led to the fedoras. He peruses them carefully and finally selects a gray one.
"Gray?" I ask feebley. (wondering as I hear the words coming out of my mouth WHY I feel compelled to even say this. . . ) "But honey you have a lot of colors going on and no other gray. Do you think you should change up your pants for gray?" He agrees.
Back to the pants department where 20 minutes later we unearth the one pair of 30/30 gray slacks in the entire dept.
The best part for me was checking out. (at so many levels because as i have all ready mentioned I despise shopping) But our clerk was an older woman and she looked at me, there with 2 of my handsome young sons who look nothing like me. And all she saw was a family. She commented on how handsome my son would look in what he had chosen. I said yes, and that all my kids now had their Easter outfits, though I had yet to get myself anything new.
"That's the way we moms are, " she answered smiling. "And we like it that way." She's right
Monday, April 2, 2012
April Fools Day!
This is a day always filled with tricks and laughter in our house. Pizza for breakfast whcih I always act shocked when I remove from the oven. "NO!" Where is the blueberry coffee cake?" The kids decided to prank K by making pretend dog poop and placing it artfully on the kitchen floor. I truly think we are the ony people who ever went to Walm*rt and bought one and only one brown play dough! Back at home, with all the care that Michelangelo when sculpting David, they went to work. It was pretty funny and thankfully, K took it with good grace. Rob had his bed made in reverse while he was away yesterday, so that the pillow was down at the foot etc. He too thought it was funny. Clearly we are a zany crew.
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