Jacob's Pillow

Anyone who reads my blog knows my kids dance.  KC is especially passionate about dance.  He wants to dance on Broadway, and have his own dance studio.  On July 4th instead of having our traditional BBQ we instead travelled to the western part of our state to a unique venue for dance.  Both kids were able to take a class from Kyle Marshall Choreography.  This was meaningful in a multitude of ways.

It is important for KC especially to get the experience of different teaching styles as he has been at the same school since he was 5.  The class was led by a black man which is also important.  I like my kids to see who they are reflected in the things they care about.  Most of the troupe were black, and although our local school is diverse, it is not as profoundly diverse as that.

The class was open to anyone 12 and older.  My two were definately the only ones under 18 and maybe under 20, but they held their own.  Elisabeth got a little swamped with the speed with which choreography was taught out but KC was definately in his element. 

And of course, I forgot to write about the experience because I woke with one of the worst migraines I have had in a long time and struggled through the day in sun glasses and eating next to nothing so as not to embarrass myself in public.  We stayed to watch the troupe perform after the class was over but bailed before the question and answer period because we had a longish drive back and by this time it was harder to hide how utterly miserable I was feeling.

The next day I "friended" the instructor on FB and send a private message just thanking him for the experience my kids had.  They literally talked about it all the way home and KC talked about it for days.  I expected nothing in response.  I just think that when cool things happen and your life is touched in a positive way it is nice to let folks know that happened. 

This morning when I opened FB there was a private message from the instructor, saying he remembered the kids and that they did well and he was glad they enjoyed it so much.  I showed it to them when I got home from work as during the summer they are still in bed when I go to work.  Both of them were excited all over again.  KC wants to do a summer intensive at the pillow, not next year but probably the year after.  It would mean living there for a month but would offer him a chance to see 15 performances in a variety of styles, take a vast amount of classes, perform there and peruse the dance archives which he desperately wants to see.

Sometimes I am still so shocked by his drive and the fact that he feels so keenly that this is what he was meant to do.  I didn't feel that way at 15.  Heck I didn't feel that way EVER until I became a parent.  That felt like the big thing I was supposed to do.  But career wise, I am still working toward my managership goal, but not with the passion that exudes from every pore of his being.  I admire the heck out of that!

 Picture is us setting out for the trek west!  Lipstick shades and ball cap to hide the fact that I look like the walking dead! LOL  The Pillow does not allow picture taking during performances or classes so I got none of the kids while they were rocking the outdoor stage. 

Summer Frenzy

Well not a frenzy I guess. But definately not a lazy summer with camping get aways interspersed throughout.  Instead, this has been a summer devoted to house renovations.  We started with Chet's room.  If you have never done over the room for a man who likes everything to stay the same and believes that they should keep the receipt for every purchase they made since 2007 you have not lived!  (insert laughter and an eye roll here!)

Chet's room has not been done over since he moved into this room at 17.  He is 33.  The wall paper was curling, the trim paint was grungy and the room was chock full of stuff he did not use any more (not to mention the aforementionedoh so important receipts that were literally filling every.single.drawer. of his six drawer dresser.

Like all things for Chet I know this would be hard for him.  Change is evil to him.  Even if it winds up something that he likes in the end, the process is agonizing to him.  So I tried to make this as painfree as possible by having him help me sort things for 15 minutes at a time.  Literally 15 minutes, during which time I would channel my inner Kon Mari and ask him "does this give you joy?" as I held up the receipts. Initially there was a lot of bluster about how important they were.  I would ask him to share with me what was important about them  (all using the same low key voice) and eventually he would say he thought he needed them.)  Usually at that point I could suggest that if he did not *know* he needed it, then it would likely be safe to recycle it.  The first drawer there was lots of yelling on his part.  The second drawer there was some yelling and some tears of frustration.  By drawer 3 he was beginning to embrace the declutter.  By drawer 6 he actually laughed about some of the things he had felt were so important to keep.

Of course if it was only the desk it would have been easy. But I also had to convince him that the pile of old underwear in the bottom of his closet did NOT need to be saved and mended for future use.  Trust me, there are street people whose undies had more fabric left to them than those did!  He has good clothes, he just genuinely believes he has to fix mend and staple together everything and keep using it.

I had him help me box his actual belongings and we stored them in my room.  We did some editing aas we went.  With some discussion he decided that the Harry Potter mylar baloon from his 13th birthday was no longer necessary to keep.  And there were other edits of a similar nature.  With the room emptied of all but a bed, and a dresser it was so much bigger feeling.  I think that might have actually been the sea change moment for him, though I would dearly love to say that it was all my gentle and consistant parenting through this process.

He LOVED how big his room felt.  Also as the walls had to be stripped of all the old paper, mudded primed, and the trim painted and a small ceiling repair done, it was sort of empty for a while.  I think I hit the autism lottery for that as it gave him time to really get used to it feeling more open and airy. 

The top of his walls are painted a dusky rose that he chose. Chet loves pink and this is a pretty shade.  The panelling on the bottom is painted a medium gray. He likes to make cards and I helped him organize all those supplies (previously hidden under all the receipts) into clear bins and they fit on a shelf in his closet.  We painted a cabinet to coordinate and put a cork board on one side so he can put receipts there for the short time and then because they are visible, I'll see them and can help him edit more regularly. 

He has a collection of colored mini carabiners that he wanted to make jewelry out of. That didn't work when he tried it but he wanted to keep the carabiners.  My talented wife figured out how to use them to hold up a curtain on one of his windows.  He got new curtains, we put new wood cladding on his two stairs in his room and convinced him he only needed one set of shelves.  We gave away the desk as it really would have just become a catch all of horrors again and I could not face that.  So using how much he loved the open feeling we got him to agree to getting rid of that and putting a small desk with only one drawer in his room to mount his TV on.  He also got a cute little leather chair to sit in and new mini lights (those ones on wires that hte kids love) to put around his room.

He helped put the art work back in his room but I guided him a bit so that things were not just shoved every which way.  There is more of a feeling of calmness with it like this and I have honestly seen him act more calmly overall since the re-do.

I can tell he loves his space.  I felt bad at times putting him through the stress of the renovation. And sometimes, truthfully I felt bad putting myself through it.  It can feel a little thankless when you are trying to do something nice and someone is acting like you are torturing them.  But at the end of the  

day, he survived, and he is proud of the new look and his space. 

KC is 15 Late Post

So my tech skills are still weak.  It is my youngest man-ling's 15th birthday today.  I can't quite wrap my head around this.  That middle pic?  Pretend it is the first one in the series.  That was probably when he was about 5 months old.  He was a preemie and so so tiny.  In that picture the newborn clothes were still big on him, but at least we had made it out of the doll clothes section!  I remember how utterly petrified we were bringing him home.  This young, precious life was entrusted to us and we.were.not.ready.  No one ever is.  I think you can read 50 billion books, take classes, read blogs, and baby sit your heart out, but it is not the same.  KC was not our first child, but he was our first infant and as such there were many firsts with parenting him that we had not experienced with the other kids.  Thank the goddess that he was an easy and forgiving baby!

The picture on the far right is of KC after dance recital last year.  Ever since he was 2 he has wanted to dance.  He would flit around the house waving my wives sparkly fabric bits and create shows in our front hall where he did his version of tap dancing.  It took till he was 4 to find a studio that was boy friendly and a non competition studio, but once we did, he has never left it.  He has added to his dance classes year by year, increasing in knowledge and ability. 

The first picture in the series.  That is KC today.  A strong 15 year old with goals, dreams and the drive to succeed.  He works part time at a local market. He helps teach at the dance school.  He volunteers in a classroom at church and helps at the library.  He is funny, loves word play, graceful, emotional and we are so very very blessed that he is our son.

I wanted this birthday to be special for him and in true J-E Team fashion it was special in ways we did NOT expect.  I had purchased tickets to Tap Dogs. They are a cool dance troupe he wanted to see.  They had medical issues and the night before our performance they cancelled.  Our tickets were refunded but they are not touring in our area the rest of the year.  KC took it with better grace than I did.  We've been sitting on these tix for about 2 1/2 months!  I was bursting with excitement for him.  He reminded me that such things happen with live performances, which is very mature and very true.

Then KC got sick.  Very sick.  Wound up on an antibiotic and missed a whole week of work and basically had the most low key birthday one could imagine.  He even had us cut the birthday pie he had requested without him blowing out the candles because he was coughing so much he was afraid of contaminating the rest of the family.

But for all that there were still presents and laughter, and even a birthday that went so far south from what was planned will be part of the memory montage for a son we love so dearly.

Youth Group Sunday

So proud of this guy this morning!  He read two prayers that he wrote during Youth Sunday service at church.  KC is a deep thinker and his words were beautiful.  I am so proud of the young man he is becoming.  In only a few weeks he will be 15.  This momma can't quite grasp that.  But I am in awe watching him flower and grow and stretch himself trying new things.

This was the first time he has participated in a Youth Sunday service and the parts he took were very important ones.  Around his neck in this picture is his grandfathers wedding ring on a chain.  His grandfather was a Unitarian Universalist minister.   My mom gave KC that ring a few years ago when she felt he was old enough to appreciate it and care for it.  It means a great deal to him and when he chooses to wear it, it is always a sign of something deeply personal going on. 

Stepping forward

This guy here?  The one with the two legs, not the four.  It seems like not long ago that he was so little, so anxious about the wider world.  I remember that despite his love of dance, he would tremble back stage, clutching my hand, nearly breaking the teeny bones in my hand because he squeezed so tightly.  

I've never been one to push my kids. They only squeeze your hands for a moment in time.  And then you turn around and they are a teen.  Going off on mission trips and helping others.  Chatting with friends and planning outings that only occasionally involve me getting him at least part way to the destination. This year he has two part time jobs---one at the dance school and one at the local grocery store.  He's saving up for a cooler phone than what his mom will buy him.   And the little guy who was afraid to go on stage?  That guy decided to try out for one of the acting roles in recital.  This studio does theater as well as dance.  He auditioned and got a part.  He will be the godfather in the dance school version of Shark Tale!  

This spring he will turn 15 and I know the pace of changes and separation and working towards newly defined dreams will only intensify.  So for now I am grateful for the fact that he still gives hugs warmly and willingly.  That he asks each day when I come home how my day was and that he enjoys movie nights with his doddering parents.  I am blessed.

Precious moments

I am increasingly aware that life is so very precious and that joy is often found most in the smallest of things.  Like the gladioli in the picture above.  We planted them last year and they did nothing.  Literally.  Nada.  We forgot about them.  And for whatever reason, a few of them decided to bloom this year.  Well, two to be exact. But they are stunning.  One is a deep fuschia and one is a paler softer pink. My grandmother loved glads.  Looking at these two on our kitchen altar makes me smile and feel her spirit close to me again.

Yoga class renews my spirit weekly.  I don't love yoga as much as I love zumba but at least it is an hour that I can give to my body.  To stretch, to bend and to take an hours pause in our busy life.

Laughter.  The silly jokes the kids make up these days. Some "cringy" as KC puts it; some surprisingly witty.  I cherish the time together as a family. As the kids have gotten older and involved in a wide array of different activities, time for all of us to be together is even more cherished.  I know that time comes ever closer when it will be just Chet, Kirsty and I again at the table.  This is how it should be and I am proud of their confidence-their friendships and their passions.

Fiona has been struggling greatly lately.  The outward symbol of her anger is my refusal to let her pierce her navel.  The reality is that a peer left the house and this is the deepest cause of her unhappiness. To her it is another example of someone succeeding in a way she has not yet.  It is hard to face that, so it is easier to find something to be angry about and someone to pin it on.  I did not actually say no to the piercing, but I did say we needed an okay from her doctor. But it wasn't a "yes, jump in the car, we gotta do this NOW!" kind of answer so she became enraged.

This is always the hard part with Fi. She goes from happy to enraged in a nanosecond.  She had literally had a wonderful time at home and called me when she got back to the group residence asking about the piercing.  Fi is prediabetic which makes her more prone to infection. She has also some issues surrounding self care and is not reliable about keeping a wound clean. So the lack of a yes has been the catalyst to spiral her into a very angry state.

I am not sure how to best help her with this.  She has decided that I am the root of all that is unsatisfactory in her life.  I am not willing to wear that cloak and have told her so.  Loving her and caring for her does not mean I can or will agree with everything she wants to do. She is entitled to her anger, entitled to her feelings of frustration.  I get that. I am trying to give her some space and hope that at some point, she will be in a place where we can talk things through but so far, nothing close to that is happening.

So I will look at my glads, listen to music that I love and breathe deeply.

Easter Eve

I've become a rather infrequent blogger, haven't I?   Many times it is because I mull things around in my head so long that by the time I have a chance to sit and actually tap out my thoughts---they feel redundant and like other bloggers have spoken with more clarity.

But today, I am taking a bit of time to write.  It is Easter weekend and Fiona is home for the weekend.  We have colored eggs, had her favorite supper and she and Lissa are presently cuddled on the couch watching a movie. It has been good.

Tomorrow morning my goal is to get everyone out of the house for 7:30 and take them to breakfast. This gives my wife time to hide the Easter clues that she writes for the kids so that they can do their basket hunt when we return from our UU church and she returns from a different UU church that she works for.

This is a very busy weekend and I am glad that I went to yoga this morning.  That hour, just for me, helped me feel relaxed and ready for the demands of the weekend. Well, demands is probably the wrong word. But juggling the emotional needs and mental health issues of my two eldest at a holiday time can be challenging. It can be stressful.  It is also paradoxically, a great joy.  I love when our family is together, building memories and sharing love.  So the vigelance and over planning is worth it, but a quiet reflective time before it, also did not come amiss.

At the closing meditation our instructor always gives us a word of the day. Previous words have been things like "inspire" "wisdom" "kindness."  Todays was family. How apt.

Executive Director Response

I finally heard back from the executive director of the program that runs Fiona's group home.  He basically said sorry, no bunny and gee I am sorry that other staff misinformed you.  But hey on the positive side, don't worry because you should feel really good about the fact that we are putting steps into place so something like this won't happen again.

Oh yeah, color me ecstatic!  Not!!  I wrote back that I would like details on exactly what those wonderful step are going to be because I have absolutely no confidence in the program and no faith that when I get an answer from someone that I will be able to be confident it is a real answer and not just what they thought Fiona or I wanted to hear at the moment. I await additional response from him and also from the other agencies I have contacted about the way the program handled this.

What they don't seem to realize is that this is far and away about more than a bunny.  It is about the spiral they put my daughter into by breaking faith with her. She didn't just break her TV that she spent 3 months saving for, she also tried to self harm.  This is something that she only does when profoundly disturbed and it has not happened in over 2 years.  The fact that this level of despair was caused by and agency that is supposed to have her well being in the forefront of their decision making very much angers me.

I have no expectation that I can change the decision. However I can be a person who holds them accountable for the mishandling and that is what I intend to do.

Fiona's Thanksgiving

This Thanksgiving Fiona spent the holiday with her first mom J.  She wants to spend Christmas with us.  I am fine with this and had reassured her multiple times that I was more than okay with this.  We talked during the week and i wished her a happy thanksgiving early on Wednesday and asked her to give my love to J and the rest of the family when she saw them.  She said she would. She called me Thursday and we exchanged greetings.  All was well.

Friday morning we were bringing down our Christmas decor and putting away all the harvest decorations when Fiona video chatted me.  I was thrilled to hear from her but certainly not looking my best. I had gone out on Black Friday shopping and got home at 2 a.m. By 7 a.m. I was up and we were in the midst of the holiday home bustle.  I (ahem) had  not even gotten out of my jammies.  My hair looked like the wreck of the hesperus.  But I never refuse to talk.  Fi and I talked and then Rob and Fi, Then Rob and J.  Then J and I.  It was good conversation all round, my bad hair and pj ensemble not withstanding.  I was especially glad for Rob who later when we were talking said that his conversations with J are getting easier.

However, the bloom was off the rose so to speak by today.  I got a video call again from Fiona but this one said that she wanted to go back to her program.  Right then.  Immediately.  I explained that she was a long way away and that immediately was not an option but that I would reach out to the staff and make sure someone was on the way.  I was surprised she was still there as I had said that the visit should not be more than Wed. through Friday evening. (by evening back at her program)  My reasoning for this is that I believe Fi needs help in interpreting and charting her relationship with J as a young adult.  To stay too long would I feared lead to her magical thinking of staying there or trying to recreate fantasies that were not realized in her childhood.  It also is a lot to put on J for her to be there for more than the equivilent of a weekend. Fiona needs a lot of monitoring and doesn't typically do well amusing herself.  Left to her own devices she interprets a lack of constant attention as being ignored.

The latter is what happened.  I spoke with Fi tonight and she is still angry about the visit. She feels that extended family ignore her and don't include her.  My gut feeling on this is that they include her to the best of their abilities but that they are not disabled and some of her interests are not those of most regularly functioning adults.

We had a fairly good and very long talk about it all. She did admit that she thought she would just fit seamlessly into things going back for visits.  Once she had a chance to vent I tried to suggest to her that her cousins and even her sister have had years to develop other interests and just as she has shows and interests that are important to her, so do they.  She said she was angry that her sister Crystal does not want a relationship with J.  She feels that is unfair.  I said that part of being an adult was letting Crystal decide for herself what was right for her at this point in her life. It could change.  But it was not up to Fi to be the change agent. She had to focus on her own relationship with J and work on that being a healthy one.

I wish with all my heart that Fiona had a good therapist on board to help with this.  I feel vastly underqualified to sail these waters without professional support.  However she is on a waiting list for therapy due to her medical insurance and has all ready been on the list for a number of months.

Hopping On

Mid day Friday I was reasonably sure that the meeting about Fiona's proposed bunny had gone well.  I brought with me to the meeting a paper print out of the email sent to me when the group home house manager first proposed working on this.  I had circled the date, which was just over a year ago. It was immediately evident until I produced the email that this was going to be a brush off meeting.  However the tenor changed immediately when I showed the email and they took copies. The present house manager and the clinician both agreed that to recant on the promise would be seriously detrimental to my daughter.  We brainstormed ways to meet the need of Fi to have a pet and walk around the apparent no pet policy of the home.  The present house manager has a farming background and suggested an outdoor hutch.  I was on board provided they helped defray the cost by making the hutch in a woodworking shop used by some of the male participants in the facility.  (different house, but same overseeing agency)  They were fine with that.  I asked for an explicit accounting of my daughter's personal funds and am promised that I will receive this by the end of this week and that it will detail what the expenditures were.  I am sure that they were FOR her. I am also sure that intentionally or inadvertantly, deposits into the bunny fund envelope were not being made as schedule dicatated.  Fiona always asks staff before spending anything "this isn't from my bunny fund, is it?" and both the clinician and the new house manager admitted freely to this.

I will somehow scrape together money to replace the funds that were misspent so that Fiona would not lose this opportunity due to lack of cash.  I made this clear to the team that met with me.  We parted on what I thought were good terms.

Late Friday night when there would be no way to contact anyone I received an email. It was actually a forwarded email from the CFO who said it was unfortunate that the previous house manager had misrepresented the facilities policies.  He sited a number of reasons why it might not be possible to have the bunny and said I would not have an answer till Monday by days end.  The entire tone of his email is one of shock and like he heard this proposal  for the first time.

I didn't bring EVERY email to the meeting.  I brought the initial email.  Here at home I have the one detailing the house manager's conversation with the CFO and exactly what this person contributed to the discussion by way of a question he had wanted answered by me. The email clearly names the CFO and details the conversation the house manager had with him as well as the resulting query the CFO had for me.   I have also sent an email out to DDS informing them of the situation and the detriment that this scenario could have on Fiona's mental health and emotional stability.

Please stop playing, people.

Bunny Blues

There has been another round of huge staffing changes at the home where Fiona lives.  It also goes higher up the food change with a clinician change and some new faces in upper management.  I can't speak to whether any of this is good or not. Frankly I liked our last direct care team very much and the 15 months or so that we worked together were some of the healthiest ever for Fiona.  I felt they got her, not just her needs, but who she is as a person, beyond and above all the cognitive and behavioral stuff.  The inside part that so often struggles to be seen and validated.

However I see huge storm clouds on the horizon.  This team contacted me last October about Fiona having a pet.  This was something she asked for and they went up the chain and got approval for.  I was not the driving force in this.  While I know that pets are therepeutic, while i know that Fi adores animals and is good with them, I have had deep concerns over the plan.

Loving pets does not translate into having the ability to provide regular and appropriate care.  However my opinon was not solicited and a plan was put into place.  Fiona has been working the plan which included a certain decreased level in holds, a certain level of cleanliness in her room and other goals.  It has been a long road but she has met these requirements and thought that this Christmas she would be able to buy her bunny.  (part of the goals were also financial and budgeting for the pet care and the supplies the pet would need.

A couple days ago Fiona called me and said she was worried that staff were backing away from the plan to get her the bunny.  I said I didn't think that was the case but that i would contact the team.  I did and my daughter is correct.  The new team point person said "gee it is not our practice to permit pets for a variety of reasons yada yada yada."  We are meeting next Friday as i have the day off to discuss this and develop a plan.  There will be no good resolution to this if they are recanting.

My daughter has had too many instances where people have broken faith with her.  This is going to be another and she will hate every single member of this team forever.  Or at least till they all ride off into the sunset and the next crew come on board.

To complicate things, we just let Lissa get a small dog.  If Fiona can't realize her dream of pet ownership it is also going to create a difficult dynamic here to negotiate.

What the new team does not know is that I have saved every single email to me and from me regarding the pet issue.  Actually I save every email with this agency period. And if I have a phone call, i send a follow up email saying "this is my understanding etc etc. and asking for their confirmation."  I don't know that this will help her get the pet but it will help me if I have to take this up a notch concerning the way they are handling my daughter's care.

KC joins the big leagues!

KC is 12 and in full tween mode these days. But he just made a huge leap (pardon the pun) in his dancing.  He also began his Coming of Age year at church and had his first mentor/mentee event after services yesterday.

In the dance area, he has been promoted to the group 3 dance group for hip hop. He was previously in group 2.  Group 3 is made up of much older kids.  One 8th grader, but most are 9th and 10th graders. KC is 7th grade.  What prompted the boost was the fact that there were only 4 kids in his group 2 hip hop this year.  2 were bumped down a level and one other class mate was promoted with KC.

I worried that he would be nervous but he rocked it.  He could keep up with the class and the class members accepted him warmly.  Saturday our city has a big fall festival. The dance school has a booth there and dances periodically in the streets through out the day.  KC worked from 9 to after 1 and danced multiple times.  Most of the dancers and volunteers were the older girls from group 3 and when they were on break I would see KC walking around the fair with one or the other of the young ladies.

This was KC yesterday morning before church.  Last year at the end of the RE  program the kids made tie dyed shirts to get ready for COA  For each coming of age event they will wear this shirt. KC had a blast. He loves his mentor, with whom he shares a passion for the arts and was proud that during the question and answer period, there was very little about her that he did not know.  Like wise, she knew a lot about him.  For some kids, that might detract from the experience.  For him, it is a key foundation piece for him.

He enjoyed the canoe trip and came home happy and tired eager for the journeys and explorations that will happen this year.

Fiona's New TV

I talked to Fiona last night and she has her TV set!  She has been through many TV sets since moving to her group home.  Previous ones have typically fallen victim to her anger, swept off a table or kicked when she was not able to control herself.  I bought the first two for her (off of Craiglist so they were not new but were really nice)  After that, I told her she was responsible for the replacements of any that were damaged due to rages.  If it just died, I would replace it.  A stream of TVs have followed, found by the side of the road, found on line.  Most met very untimely fates.

Part of it is the dynamic of group home life.  Her room is the space she is supposed to go to when she is out of control.  This makes her belongings at higher risk for destruction or damage. The Great School in the Big City had amazing "time out rooms" so this happened less.  Kids could go to their rooms, but there were also these rooms scattered through the school with gigantic bean bag chairs in them where they could also go to regain composure.

So back in the late fall, Fiona called and said she wanted to buy a TV set and wanted to save her spending money for it.  She subsequently showed me the TV set she wanted and it was gigantic.  Our living room TV is 42 inches and this was bigger than that. Crazy big, but to Fi, this was the TV of her dreams.  Staff and I worked out a budget so she could save for it, but I didn't really think she would follow through.  Long term planning is so very hard for Fiona because she has no time sense. So everything feels like forever to her,   Tomorrow, next Friday, a month from now?  It is all hugely far away to her.

I am excited though because she did it!  She now has the TV.  Best of all, staff came up with a plan to mount the TV on the wall (I think with a plexi glass shield over it) so it may even be protected when she is out of control physically.

This is such a positive experience for Fi.  She saved for something; she can literally see the fruits of her efforts.  I am beyond excited!

Joy

I have been the recipient of the family plague.  Congestion, coughing, chills, lots of fun.  I am on week 2 and despite the note of whining you may detect in the above sentences, I am not deathly ill.  For the most part I have been able to totter  toddle along fairly well.  But the coughing thing is hard and annoying so I did something I almost never do, and asked for a substitute teacher for my RE class.  An hour and 15 minutes of nearly constant talking in a hot dry room would not work particularly well.  And when the parents arrived to hear me hacking like a TB patient in one of those old movies, they would also be likely to be annoyed.

So although today is a "lazy" day for me, the days up till today have not been.  Thursday was Fiona's team meeting for her annual review and planning.  Her worker from DDS was there, as was her house manager, her behavioral specialist, and others who help along the way.  It was by far the best meeting that we have had.  Fiona did an amazing job advocating for herself and articulating things that she would like to achieve.  The DDS worker and I helped Fiona to open up and explain what made her uncomfortable with the experience. This helped us to suggest changes to the process so that she might be able to achieve success.

The DDS worker also makes unannounced visits to the home that Fi lives in.  Apparently this is mandated so that she can make sure all is as it should be.  Unfortunately, partly due to the way the DDS worker presents herself and partly due to Fiona's own lack of understanding, Fiona hates this. She feels that DDS is putting "her business" out for the other peers in the home to be knowing.  Intensely private, this has caused Fi to have a full blown meltdown and numerous late night calls to me when these visits occured.  I brought it up, trying to frame it in a way that did not embarrass Fi, anger DDS etc.  I thankfully succeeded and there was a good explanation to Fi about what is really going on when DDS visits.  A plan was made on a place for Fiona to go and wait for the worker so that she was not sitting with peers and feeling anxious.  Fingers crossed that it works.

After the meeting, Fiona asked if she could take me to lunch and we went to a sub shop together and chatted some more and just relaxed.  It was really great to see her feeling positive about this and feeling like these were goals that she achieved.

Then yesterday, Cousin N came out to do the maintenance session for Lissa's locks. They are coming along beautifully and it was fun to hang out while she did Lissa's hair. Fiona was home for the visit and N brought her daughter C who hung out with KC and Fiona and Rob while Lissa got her hair done.  I cooked a big lunch for everyone and there was also an epic nerf gun battle.

Blending families, understanding where we all come from and what gifts and challenges we bring to relationships takes time.  N and I have a really blooming friendship.  Lissa considers her her "big cousin" and N is deeply touched and considers us family as well.  Just watching everyone interact together and listening to the laughter and sharing the dreams fills me  with joy.

KC will be Coming of Age next church year!

That's KC in the pageant at church this December.  That guy is going to be in the Coming of Age class.  As in NEXT YEAR!  I can't quite wrap my head around that.  KC is my fey child; a lover of music, dance, art and magic.  Not ready to give up fantasy, yet also funny, intuitive and smart.  Coming of Age will be great for him. It will challenge him enough for growth but give him the steadiness and security of beloved friends and compassionate adults around him while he does that.

This past week our Religious Ed director asked the kids who they would choose as a possible mentor.  Mentors are really important in this process.  Good ones are more than there on Sunday mornings.  In Rob's case, the mentor really has become a true friend and they seek one another out at fellowship time.  Rob finished COA many years ago, so it is a testament to the program and the participants.

KC chose Jane, an artist who attends our church and with whom he has been friends for years.  He took some art lessons from her for a time and loved that.  Jane gets the softer side of KC--he's not the guy who wants to go throw a football around with another guy.  He cheers on the Patriots but doesn't really follow anything else.  And he still dances in the aisles of our local supermarket.  Jane is a perfect fit for him.  A mom of 2 boys herself, she is also quirky, emotional and uber talented.  She will simultaneously help our boy grow roots and spread wings.

But KC in his own quiet way, also is an agent for change here.  In all the years our church has offered this program, kids have unfailingly chosen their mentors along gender lines.  Till KC.  It would just never occur to him to do that.  He likes guys, and has guy friends but there is a dearth of artsy guys in our church at the moment and that is the component in a personality that he craved the most.  Our director was fine with it, Jane was honored, KC does not know yet that his wish was granted.

Now I'll go sniff and remember the wee little fellow who used to fit in doll clothes when we brought him home.  

Musing

Time flies!  Perhaps more than my wife, I have always been aware of that.  She would get frustrated when the kids were little and there were so many sleepless nights/diapers/snowsuits/  I would always say "it is only for a season."

In reality i should have just been quiet while I was helping!  She was frustrated and didn't get what I meant. It wasn't the right time to share that.   But now, suddenly it is hitting her.  The little guy in the picture above will join a Coming of Age program in our church.  He is on his way to being a young man.

Rob is in his second year of college.  There will not be too many more years with him living here, and Miss Lissa at 9 is all ready fiercely independent and ready to take on the world in so many creative and exciting ways.

I know that things that have been the same for us for many many years, are due to change soon.  The way holidays get celebrated, the times all of us are able to be together. Even who is home for supper.  These changes make me melancholy.  I know the wheel turns and it is right that it do so.  But I miss those baby fingers curled around mine.

On the other hand, the changes also have heralded the advent of occasional (and likely ever increasing) adult time for my wife and I.  It is easy to lose relationships in Parent Land.  And the times that we nearly did lose it, I know it was my fault.  My circle of friends is really large, but they are mostly also parents of other kids.  My wife craves time sans children, and has a circle of friends who either never had kids or whose children have flown the nest. I have less in common with them, though I do like them all.   It has made things challenging for a few years but as the wheel turns and the kids become more independent there have been more walks with just she and I. More nights by the fire pit with a glass of wine.  Occasional lunches out for just us.

These are good and the balance--the yin to the yang of the nest slowly emptying. Rediscovering, reimagining our relationship for the years to come and watching the kids set sail on their own journeys will be a new adventure.

The road less travelled

As an adoptive parent I have ALWAYS tried to make sure my kids know that they can come to me anytime. And ask about anything.  They can ask about their first families. They can ask about how they came home. They can ask about why adoption exists.Whatever.   I may squirm inside from time to time, but these conversations are important and a huge part of our family tapestry.

Several months ago, Fiona asked me about her birth father. Unfortunately I had not info at all on him--not even his name is present on her original birth certificate.  I said she would have to ask Mom J for information on that and that I would help her with that conversation if she felt that she needed it.

She thought about it (for a loooong time, like several months) and then decided she would like to talk to her first mom about him.  She wanted to know simple things.  His name.  What he liked to do with her.  What he contributed to her racial and ethnic identity.

I got in contact with J and explained what Fiona wanted and asked if she would be okay with having this conversation.  Alternatively, she could write a letter or message us via social media.  She wrote back that she would be fine with answering any of my daughter's questions and would tell my son Rob anything he wanted to know as well.

As luck would have it, Fi was home that weekend and we made the call.  J and I talked a bit and then she and Fiona talked. Fi got her questions answered and I think this was another step in something I can only describe as emotional completeness.

Adoption leaves these blank spots.  Relationships lost or misunderstood.  People forgotten.  Stories that make sense of our connections are not told. For Fiona, filling those blank spaces is crucial to her healing.  On the other hand, at this point Rob wants nothing to do with Mom J.  I told him about the call and what J had said.  He made sure he was not available when we made the call.  When the call was over, he immediately resurfaced and joined in our activities cheerfully. Rob has strong connections with other first family members, siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles.  He just can't figure out yet what his relationship is--if there IS a relationship--with J.  He also is a bit put off by the fact that she and I are friends.

It is hard to explain to Fiona that he needs to walk his own path and that there will probably come a time when he is ready for this, but that it is not now.  And that while I support her journey, I also support his.  Fiona's cognitive delays make it hard for her to see why this is okay.  I wound up falling back on "he's your little brother; remember you are the BIG sister and so you are ready for this before him."  Which is not really the why of it but if it makes things okay, I'll run with it.

Ironically, Fi shares more of this journey with KC who has always wanted to know as much as possible about Mom Y.  Last night he came downstairs and said he wanted to know why she gave him up for adoption. He'd been thinking about it he said, and he didn't know how to ask.  The words came out in a blur, rapidfire, and his eyes were huge.  That conversation started with a hug and I could feel him lean into me hard.  We talked about how people don't always have good supports in their life to help them and that his mom lived with her parents--how space and money concerns can make for hard choices. It was enough for now.  I have grown adept at reading the "full up" signals in my kids--when the conversation has gone far enough for now.  But I remain ready to talk again when the need arises.

Chet turns 30!

Today is Chet's birthday and my perpetual teen turns (gasp) 30.  Yes, the big 3-0!  It is hard to wrap the mind around, in part because he is always so young in his behaviors.  And I have come to a place where I am really okay with that.  The luck of having a large family has been that there have been for many years youngers coming along who reach that place where Chet is comfortable emotionally.  It is a place typically inhabited by pre-teen or early teen boys who enjoy fart jokes and belching and the game Magic.

Rob has sort of passed through that stage and moved on towards young adulthood.  But KC and Lissa are filling the void.  They have learned Magic this summer and enjoy playing it with their big brother. Chet for his part, enjoys the chance to impart something he knows to them.  Albeit somewhat pedantically, but they are used to that as well!

What will happen for him when these two grow past where he is comfortable being I am unsure.  I may have to put an ad out for pre teen boys who want to gather at my house for fart jokes, pizza and games of Magic!

But for today, we celebrated all that is Chet!  He got his favorite supper of arroz con gandules, home made cake and of course gifts.  He asked for rubber bands, a note book and pens, and a couple of movies. He got those and warm fleece pants for winter and hair dye so his mohawk can again be the pink of his shirt in the picture above.

My wife had to leave for work so we did the party backwards with cake and gifts first and then the meal.  This was perfect for her schedule but also consummately suited Chet!

Happy Birthday Son!

More Fiona problems

I opened my email this evening to discover that the agency which runs the home where Fiona lives, had a "brilliant" idea. (please understand that word is meant to be read with dripping sarcasm.  Due to the altercations that she had with another woman in the home, they were suggesting that Fi be moved to a new home that is being constructed in the western part of our state. This would happen sometime next month.

I am not amused. First off, I only found out about this through the DDS person who they contacted. They did not contact me, as the guardian which I find grossly inappropriate.

Secondly, moving my daughter does not preclude future physical altercations. I wish that were the case, but I know it is not.  And anyone with half a brain who has read her history should be able to figure that out.

Thirdly, we are her support network. I can not visit her often if she is over an hour away from us.  She is 15 minutes away now and home often.  Also her home visits can be shorter, of an afternoon for instance, or going out to dinner and then getting brought back to the group home. This is of benefit to her in a multiple of ways.  When the intimacy of family life feels too intense, it is easy to disengage and go back to the group home.  Also, at another level, I feel that it models the kind of visiting that you do as an adult.

Moving her out an hour or more away additionally puts her even further away from first family members who try to keep in touch with her and who on occasion gather at our home to be with her.

I have written a strong email stating that if this agency wants to move her an hour away that I am very opposed and that I would rather look to a new agency to provide housing and services for Fiona.  I think, but am not sure, that DDS is going to be supportive.  We shall see.

Fiona's altercation

Life is a whirlwind, practically all the time and my blogging has become far from consistant as a result. This annoys me as there is much I want to write about.  My wife craves a bit of solace in silence so writing is one step up from talking to myself when I process things! LOL  And I look a good deal less batty when I write than if I walk around talking to myself.

Fiona is struggling again. She had an altercation with a housemate and it escalated into a physical attack in which Fi did harm to the other woman.  She bit her and there is still a visible mark and bruise a number of days later. The director of the house attempted to diffuse things and to try to convince the woman who was assaulted not to file charges.  However despite having a cool off time to think about her options, she did file a police report last evening.

Mike called to tell me all this and said that truthfully, no one really knows what this means for Fiona.  The police in the community are aware of the situation at the residence and that the ladies unfortunately do have physical confrontations.  This may just wind up  a written report, or a warning or it could be something more.  Fiona did not know that the charges were filed. The plan is to have this explained to her during her counselling session and for her clinician to let her know that the team will be there to support her through this.

Although I am worried for Fiona, I do feel that accountability is important. There are some things that are not okay and biting people is on that list.  On the other hand, I worry that at some point, she will be in a jail due to the violence that is really symptomatic of her mental illness and cognitive disabilities.

She is coming for a visit for the day on Saturday and I hope that spending time with us will be reassuring to her. I know that when she has something like this happen that afterwards she is remorseful and that she worries that we will not love her.  So in that respect, the visit is timed perfectly.

I hate that life is so very hard for her.  There is so much that is good inside her.