I read the article about the teen on a show 16 & pregnant ( I have never watched) that aborted her 2nd child. The show was trying to highlight that abortion is common, easy and a good alternative.
Speaking as someone who has heard about the devastating after effects of guilt and sorrow that can extend a lifetime, I would council young and not so young women to consider adoption if the baby is not right for you. You will still feel sorrow over the loss but at least you gave the child life and this is the greatest gift of all.
HT:Red State
Friday, December 31, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
Grieving mother to mother of son's killer.
"In case you didn’t understand it yet: I am the mother of the boy that was brutally slaughtered by your son"
Sometimes we forget who's human rights are really harmed. Read this mother's letter.
Sometimes we forget who's human rights are really harmed. Read this mother's letter.
Fox News Viewers Are Misinformed Study, The Critique
This study shows the bias is really against FOX News.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
TSA abuse has risen to a new level of outrage!
I am outraged by this video. These people have just been unionized with the right to abuse us and not get fired. You are giving your rights to a $12.00 federal union thug. Don't tell me the ones you have met are nice, stories like this are coming out every day. We need to take back our right and the TSA should be dismantled. I have written my nursing organization asking for their support. Please contact congress and the TSA and complain. I added the links to make it easier. I know we are all busy!
I hope those of you who agree that we should not be conducting naked body scans and intrusive pat downs please contact congress and the TSA.
To complain to Congress
To complain to the TSA
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
What 10 years old looks like in my world
My son has turned 10. Physically, emotionally, spiritually he is not 10 but about 5 or 6. We are still working on helping him learn to read. Math is slow but we are about a 1st grade level. We struggle every day with his attachment and acceptance of our role as his parents. Every day he tells us what new toy he wants. I tell him I could give you all the toys in the world and you would not be happy. You will only be happy when you allow yourself to trust mom and dad. ; and that is something that after 7 years he still can not do.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Thursday, July 08, 2010
Saturday, July 03, 2010
Attachment and the brain
Here is a good clip on attachment and the brain.
HT:http://reactiveattachmentdisorderlife.blogspot.com/
HT:http://reactiveattachmentdisorderlife.blogspot.com/
Friday, June 18, 2010
Saturday, May 29, 2010
My beauty garden
The day turned itself around. All is calm and I did get to garden a little. Here are some shots from my beauty garden.
A long day.
We had plans for the weekend. I asked each child what they wanted to do that didn't cost any money. They decided that the wanted to go to the library and the park.
Great. My husband had to work part of the week end but we would still have time to attend a graduation party and have a family cookout, play in the small swimming pool and for me to garden.
I should have figured that if I spent time organizing, the plans would be sabotaged.
My son woke up pissing mad. Literally pissing mad with a wet pullup and he refused to take it off. He crawled in a box he was playing with yesterday and I let him eat breakfast in there.
I couldn't leave the kitchen because he was calling my daughter names, dissing me and when I stepping in the next room for a minute, he hit my daughter in the face.
Time out.
While I consoled her and made sure she was OK, I sent him to his room and his alarm chimes to tell me his door is shut. After consoling my daughter and have her complain that it's going to be a terrible weekend, I sent her outside to play.
When I went to check on him, the room reeked like poop. He had a finger full of poo and he had drawn on the wall, the dresser, the window sill, and the floor. He was swearing, threatening and unable to calm. My husband shut his door and went on door watch while I started calling friends and family. I dropped off my daughter at a friend who knows what we live like and has been great at last minute rescues.
When I returned home my son was cleaning the poop from the walls and my husband was supervising. I kissed him goodbye for the day and continued to monitor the clean up. After an hour of picking up the room, washing and bleaching the walls, furniture and windows, he was calmer.
Now we are outside and he is cleaning and vacuuming my car. In between, every few minutes or so, I have him stop and work on feeling processing sheets. They help him tell me what's wrong when he can't tell me what's wrong or how he feels.
We are on page 8 and he is calm, in control but continues to have NO insight on why his behavior is wrong. "Because you made me clean"
Dah, the poop you already smeared.
This may be a long day.
Great. My husband had to work part of the week end but we would still have time to attend a graduation party and have a family cookout, play in the small swimming pool and for me to garden.
I should have figured that if I spent time organizing, the plans would be sabotaged.
My son woke up pissing mad. Literally pissing mad with a wet pullup and he refused to take it off. He crawled in a box he was playing with yesterday and I let him eat breakfast in there.
I couldn't leave the kitchen because he was calling my daughter names, dissing me and when I stepping in the next room for a minute, he hit my daughter in the face.
Time out.
While I consoled her and made sure she was OK, I sent him to his room and his alarm chimes to tell me his door is shut. After consoling my daughter and have her complain that it's going to be a terrible weekend, I sent her outside to play.
When I went to check on him, the room reeked like poop. He had a finger full of poo and he had drawn on the wall, the dresser, the window sill, and the floor. He was swearing, threatening and unable to calm. My husband shut his door and went on door watch while I started calling friends and family. I dropped off my daughter at a friend who knows what we live like and has been great at last minute rescues.
When I returned home my son was cleaning the poop from the walls and my husband was supervising. I kissed him goodbye for the day and continued to monitor the clean up. After an hour of picking up the room, washing and bleaching the walls, furniture and windows, he was calmer.
Now we are outside and he is cleaning and vacuuming my car. In between, every few minutes or so, I have him stop and work on feeling processing sheets. They help him tell me what's wrong when he can't tell me what's wrong or how he feels.
We are on page 8 and he is calm, in control but continues to have NO insight on why his behavior is wrong. "Because you made me clean"
Dah, the poop you already smeared.
This may be a long day.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Sacred music
A pet peeve I have is the terrible music in the Catholic mass. This video helps understand what is sacred and what is not.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Reality
We're back on Concerta and life is better. Yesterday my son was sick. He woke up vomiting and stayed home with me. Alone, without his sister, he was so sweet and non-oppositional. What a roller coaster his emotions are, I truly feel for him.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Waiting
Can't get into the psychiatrist until Friday. I told my son I would like to keep him home but we need to be safe. If he continues to bother (terrorize) his sister I will have to have him hospitalized. The voices continue but he is safe at this time.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Terrible day
We had a terrible day. Our son was taken off Concerta this past week due to increased aggression and it really helped. But in it's place we have seen a more disorganized internally preoccupied self absorbed son. Today, he started the day verbally abusing our daughter and then on the way to church he pushed her on her face out of the blue. He was disruptive at Mass and I even asked him if he needed to go to the hospital. The day disintegrated into urine and fecal incontinence and a lot of fecal smearing. I even asked him to clean up the poop and when I came back he had drawn a smiley face in poop on the wall. I thanked him for the art and told him I was going to get the camera to shoot the "art" he gave me, he became aggressive, swearing and I started to get mad. I can't get mad with him because I have to be in control for his safety. RAD kids push buttons all day and at night when I'm tired I walk away or I'll want to spank him. My husband took over, we tag team when one of us needs a break. I came back 15 minutes later and they were talking. Our son finally admitted he was having constant and disturbing hallucinations. The voices and visions tell him to hurt everyone, hurt himself and smear poop because mom hates it. We are very confused. Is this a big story or is he really this psychotic? I will be calling the psychiatrist tomorrow.
Monday, May 03, 2010
The Catholic Church revised
I am not a fan of the New York Times. As a conservative I see bias in most MSM. But as stumbled upon this article by Nicholas Kristof, I have to agree with his logic about the Catholic Church.
He describes the church he met in Sudan.
It may be easy at a New York cocktail party to sniff derisively at a church whose apex is male chauvinist, homophobic and so out of touch that it bars the use of condoms even to curb AIDS. But what about Father Michael Barton, a Catholic priest from Indianapolis? I met Father Michael in the remote village of Nyamlell, 150 miles from any paved road here in southern Sudan. He runs four schools for children who would otherwise go without an education, and his graduates score at the top of statewide examinations.
Father Michael came to southern Sudan in 1978 and chatters fluently in Dinka and other local languages. To keep his schools alive, he persevered through civil war, imprisonment and beatings, and a smorgasbord of disease. “It’s very normal to have malaria,” he said. “Intestinal parasites — that’s just normal.”
Father Michael may be the worst-dressed priest I’ve ever seen — and the noblest.
Anybody scorn him? Anybody think he’s a self-righteous hypocrite?
On the contrary, he would make a great pope.
Sister Cathy would like to see more decentralization in the church, a greater role for women, and more emphasis on public service. She says she worries sometimes that if Jesus returned he would say, “Oh, they got it all wrong!”
She would make a great pope, too.
And unless we’re willing to endure beatings alongside Father Michael, unless we’re willing to stand up to warlords with Sister Cathy, we have no right to disparage them or their true church.
My daughter just had her First Holy Communion and I want her to love the church I love. The servant church that reaches out to the poor and oppressed. The church that faith and covenant remains the same. The church that traces it's line back to Christ. Good or Bad; the church remains a constant. The people may corrupt it by their sins, but it is the people, not the church. More and more, those people are the hierarchy or the church. After the priest scandal was revelled, I was angry with my church. I wanted them to do more than say sorry. I wanted them to sell everything and start over as a poor church, a beggars church and grow by faith alone. Of course this will never happen.
But I can hope.
He describes the church he met in Sudan.
It may be easy at a New York cocktail party to sniff derisively at a church whose apex is male chauvinist, homophobic and so out of touch that it bars the use of condoms even to curb AIDS. But what about Father Michael Barton, a Catholic priest from Indianapolis? I met Father Michael in the remote village of Nyamlell, 150 miles from any paved road here in southern Sudan. He runs four schools for children who would otherwise go without an education, and his graduates score at the top of statewide examinations.
Father Michael came to southern Sudan in 1978 and chatters fluently in Dinka and other local languages. To keep his schools alive, he persevered through civil war, imprisonment and beatings, and a smorgasbord of disease. “It’s very normal to have malaria,” he said. “Intestinal parasites — that’s just normal.”
Father Michael may be the worst-dressed priest I’ve ever seen — and the noblest.
Anybody scorn him? Anybody think he’s a self-righteous hypocrite?
On the contrary, he would make a great pope.
Sister Cathy would like to see more decentralization in the church, a greater role for women, and more emphasis on public service. She says she worries sometimes that if Jesus returned he would say, “Oh, they got it all wrong!”
She would make a great pope, too.
And unless we’re willing to endure beatings alongside Father Michael, unless we’re willing to stand up to warlords with Sister Cathy, we have no right to disparage them or their true church.
My daughter just had her First Holy Communion and I want her to love the church I love. The servant church that reaches out to the poor and oppressed. The church that faith and covenant remains the same. The church that traces it's line back to Christ. Good or Bad; the church remains a constant. The people may corrupt it by their sins, but it is the people, not the church. More and more, those people are the hierarchy or the church. After the priest scandal was revelled, I was angry with my church. I wanted them to do more than say sorry. I wanted them to sell everything and start over as a poor church, a beggars church and grow by faith alone. Of course this will never happen.
But I can hope.
Friday, April 09, 2010
Returned child to Russia
I read the story about the adoptive mother who returned her child to Russia with a note pinned to him.
The boy arrived unaccompanied in Moscow on a United Airlines flight on Thursday from Washington. Social workers sent him to a Moscow hospital for a health checkup and criticized his adoptive mother for abandoning him.
The Kremlin children's rights office said the boy was carrying a letter from his adoptive mother saying she was returning him due to severe psychological problems.
"This child is mentally unstable. He is violent and has severe psychopathic issues," the letter said. "I was lied to and misled by the Russian Orphanage workers and director regarding his mental stability and other issues. ...
"After giving my best to this child, I am sorry to say that for the safety of my family, friends, and myself, I no longer wish to parent this child."
When I read stories like this, I have to try and remember what it was like when hubby and I adopted. How naive we were. We knew nothing about RAD and even how severely abused, neglected or alcohol exposed these children were. Coming from an intact 2 parent loving home, I couldn't even imagine what these children experience.
I pray for this child and the mother who made the decision to return him.
The boy arrived unaccompanied in Moscow on a United Airlines flight on Thursday from Washington. Social workers sent him to a Moscow hospital for a health checkup and criticized his adoptive mother for abandoning him.
The Kremlin children's rights office said the boy was carrying a letter from his adoptive mother saying she was returning him due to severe psychological problems.
"This child is mentally unstable. He is violent and has severe psychopathic issues," the letter said. "I was lied to and misled by the Russian Orphanage workers and director regarding his mental stability and other issues. ...
"After giving my best to this child, I am sorry to say that for the safety of my family, friends, and myself, I no longer wish to parent this child."
When I read stories like this, I have to try and remember what it was like when hubby and I adopted. How naive we were. We knew nothing about RAD and even how severely abused, neglected or alcohol exposed these children were. Coming from an intact 2 parent loving home, I couldn't even imagine what these children experience.
I pray for this child and the mother who made the decision to return him.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Donny Osmaond speaks for me.
Donny Osmond has slammed Lady Gaga and Beyoncé for including "profanity, sexual exploitation, nudity, and graphic violence" in their "Telephone" video -- insisting he's "upset as a parent."
Good! More musicians need to speak up and say stop the trash our children are subjected to. From clothes to music to TV. Every where children go they are subjected to foul potty mouth humor, shows that make fun of grownups, sexual images, violence and dysfunctional families.
Ever try and shop for a 8 year old girl? Slut clothes in size 7/8.
I refuse to buy anything objectionable and hope you do to.
HT: Big Hollywood
Good! More musicians need to speak up and say stop the trash our children are subjected to. From clothes to music to TV. Every where children go they are subjected to foul potty mouth humor, shows that make fun of grownups, sexual images, violence and dysfunctional families.
Ever try and shop for a 8 year old girl? Slut clothes in size 7/8.
I refuse to buy anything objectionable and hope you do to.
HT: Big Hollywood
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Why abilify works
Why abilify works.
Abilify is a atypical anti psychotic used for the treatment of several psychiatric disorders.
•Use as an add-on treatment to an antidepressant for adults with Major Depressive Disorder who did not have an adequate response to antidepressant therapy
•Treatment of manic and mixed episodes associated with Bipolar I Disorder in adults and in pediatric patients 10 to 17 years of age
•Treatment of Schizophrenia in adults and in adolescents 13 to 17 years of age
•Treatment of irritability associated with Autistic Disorder in pediatric patients 6 to 17 years of age
Most common side effects (≥10%) from all clinical trials involving adults or pediatric patients include:
Abilify is a atypical anti psychotic used for the treatment of several psychiatric disorders.
•Use as an add-on treatment to an antidepressant for adults with Major Depressive Disorder who did not have an adequate response to antidepressant therapy
•Treatment of manic and mixed episodes associated with Bipolar I Disorder in adults and in pediatric patients 10 to 17 years of age
•Treatment of Schizophrenia in adults and in adolescents 13 to 17 years of age
•Treatment of irritability associated with Autistic Disorder in pediatric patients 6 to 17 years of age
Most common side effects (≥10%) from all clinical trials involving adults or pediatric patients include:
- ADULTS: Nausea, vomiting, constipation, headache, dizziness, an inner sense of restlessness or need to move (akathisia), anxiety, insomnia, and restlessness
- •PEDIATRIC PATIENTS (6 to 17 years): Sleepiness, headache, vomiting, extrapyramidal disorder (for example, uncontrolled movement disorders or muscle disturbances such as restlessness, tremors and muscle stiffness), tiredness, increased appetite, insomnia, nausea, stuffy nose/sore throat, and increased weight
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Sunday morning bath time, mommy quiet time
My daughters recovery is going well. All post-op visits are infection free and no further retinal tears. She is home with me as she recovers and homeschooling is going OK. I still get riled up over the math homework but I am incorporating my "old fashioned math" so she will have some skills without a calculator.
We are also home schooling for her First Communion as she is skipping CCD while recovering.
As a product of a Catholic education and the daily Mass and daily religion, I'm saddened I can't give her this Catholic experience and I want her to feel a closeness to God but also a connection with a faith. I am one of those people who thinks a faith benefits a life and I want everyone to feel Gods love. But I also think the Catholic faith is the authentic church; as failed as it's members are.
I know the Catholic faith will continue. If the Catholic Church had to sell off everything and begin again to restore it self, it would. Evil will not destroy it.
OK, back to my daughter. Hubby and I decided we wanted to keep both of he kids in public school so they wouldn't be separated. If GL needs special ed and he Catholic school can' provide it, then they both will go to public school and we will bring our faith to them.
Speaking of GL, we were weaning the Abilify and hoping the Concerta was enough;sadly we were wrong. His level of aggression and anger was getting uncontrollable. We will just have to deal with he metabolic effects.
When I write this blog I always think I'm talking with another parent of a RAD child and not just a random reader. Without the experience of living with a child with RAD, it is nearly impossible to understand our life.
The looks we get in stores when my 9 year old son walks up to a perfect stranger mom and hugs her and lovingly looks at her. The rage and destruction he saves for his family.
Last night I made a great GL meal (he is a carnivore). Pork chops, mashed potatoes, snap peas;all home made with love. As we sat down and after prayers he turned to me and said this meal is "poop". Of course I calmly told him to go to his room. After dinner, when I brought him out and he was hungry I told him to help himself as I will not serve "poop" to the son I love so much. He piled all the food on the plate and ate up every bit of it.
He has also been doing a lot of art lately, unfortunately it is on his walls and with his own feces. Yes, we buy bleach in bulk and yes, he is the one who cleans it up. And thank you to who ever invented the magic eraser, it removes sharpie and crayons from any wall.
All in all, hubby is busy with his new job and I'll return to nursing as soon as my Family Medical Leave is ended in April. BTW: school is going well. Count down, 5 semesters left and I'll finish grad school. Shhhhh! Don't tell hubby I'm thinking of finishing my doctorate. They need some conservatives in nursing health care leadership.
We are also home schooling for her First Communion as she is skipping CCD while recovering.
As a product of a Catholic education and the daily Mass and daily religion, I'm saddened I can't give her this Catholic experience and I want her to feel a closeness to God but also a connection with a faith. I am one of those people who thinks a faith benefits a life and I want everyone to feel Gods love. But I also think the Catholic faith is the authentic church; as failed as it's members are.
I know the Catholic faith will continue. If the Catholic Church had to sell off everything and begin again to restore it self, it would. Evil will not destroy it.
OK, back to my daughter. Hubby and I decided we wanted to keep both of he kids in public school so they wouldn't be separated. If GL needs special ed and he Catholic school can' provide it, then they both will go to public school and we will bring our faith to them.
Speaking of GL, we were weaning the Abilify and hoping the Concerta was enough;sadly we were wrong. His level of aggression and anger was getting uncontrollable. We will just have to deal with he metabolic effects.
When I write this blog I always think I'm talking with another parent of a RAD child and not just a random reader. Without the experience of living with a child with RAD, it is nearly impossible to understand our life.
The looks we get in stores when my 9 year old son walks up to a perfect stranger mom and hugs her and lovingly looks at her. The rage and destruction he saves for his family.
Last night I made a great GL meal (he is a carnivore). Pork chops, mashed potatoes, snap peas;all home made with love. As we sat down and after prayers he turned to me and said this meal is "poop". Of course I calmly told him to go to his room. After dinner, when I brought him out and he was hungry I told him to help himself as I will not serve "poop" to the son I love so much. He piled all the food on the plate and ate up every bit of it.
He has also been doing a lot of art lately, unfortunately it is on his walls and with his own feces. Yes, we buy bleach in bulk and yes, he is the one who cleans it up. And thank you to who ever invented the magic eraser, it removes sharpie and crayons from any wall.
All in all, hubby is busy with his new job and I'll return to nursing as soon as my Family Medical Leave is ended in April. BTW: school is going well. Count down, 5 semesters left and I'll finish grad school. Shhhhh! Don't tell hubby I'm thinking of finishing my doctorate. They need some conservatives in nursing health care leadership.
Monday, March 08, 2010
Some decisions are suckish
My daughter and son were playing UNO this afternoon when my son said" I suck at this game' of which my daughter replied "You can't suck at this game, but you can make suckish moves". How insightful!
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
My baby girl
My baby girl, well not much of a baby at 8 but still my munchkin, is having surgery tomorrow. She was adopted at 22 months and we knew she had one blind eye and low vision in the other. Well, her blind eye has finally started to die and it has developed staphlomas or growths that make it impossible for her to fully close her eye and will eventually rupture. She has also developed a small retinal tear on her "good" eye. So tomorrow we are off to the Eye Institute for surgery where the tear will be lasered and stopped and the other eye will be enucleated (removed).
I'm going to home school her for 7 weeks until her prosthetic is made and back to school. She is also having her first Holy Communion late April so she will look beautiful and holy. Of course to me she is always beautiful.
Here is my little raspberry tartlet ( I always call her by the name of food) and her big brother.
I'm going to home school her for 7 weeks until her prosthetic is made and back to school. She is also having her first Holy Communion late April so she will look beautiful and holy. Of course to me she is always beautiful.
Here is my little raspberry tartlet ( I always call her by the name of food) and her big brother.
Friday, February 19, 2010
My favorite poem
This is my favorite poem which I read and memorized at Pius High School many years ago. I still can recall the cadence of speaking the poem as I recited in class.
During that summer
When unicorns were still possible;
When the purpose of knees
Was to be skinned;
When shiny horse chestnuts
(Hollowed out
Fitted with straws
Crammed with tobacco
Stolen from butts
In family ashtrays)
Were puffed in green lizard silence
While straddling thick branches
Far above and away
From the softening affects
Of civilization;
During that summer-
Which may never have been at all;
But which has become more real
Than the one that was-
Watermelons ruled.
Thick pink imperial sheaves
Melting frigidly on sun parched tongues
Dribbling from chins;
leaving the best part,
The black bullet seeds,
To be spit out in rapid fire
Against the wall
Against the wind
Against each other;
And when the ammunition was spent,
There was always another bite;
It was a summer of limitless bites,
Of hungers quickly left
And quickly forgotten
With the next careless gorging.
The bites are fewer now.
Each one is savored lingeringly,
Swallowed reluctantly.
But in a jar put up by Felicity,
The summer which maybe never was
Has been captured and preserved
And when we unscrew the lid
And slice off a piece
And let it linger on our tongue:
Unicorns become possible again.
Have a peaceful night.
Reflections On a Gift of Watermelon Pickle
Received from a
Friend Called Felicity
by John Tobias (1966)
During that summer
When unicorns were still possible;
When the purpose of knees
Was to be skinned;
When shiny horse chestnuts
(Hollowed out
Fitted with straws
Crammed with tobacco
Stolen from butts
In family ashtrays)
Were puffed in green lizard silence
While straddling thick branches
Far above and away
From the softening affects
Of civilization;
During that summer-
Which may never have been at all;
But which has become more real
Than the one that was-
Watermelons ruled.
Thick pink imperial sheaves
Melting frigidly on sun parched tongues
Dribbling from chins;
leaving the best part,
The black bullet seeds,
To be spit out in rapid fire
Against the wall
Against the wind
Against each other;
And when the ammunition was spent,
There was always another bite;
It was a summer of limitless bites,
Of hungers quickly left
And quickly forgotten
With the next careless gorging.
The bites are fewer now.
Each one is savored lingeringly,
Swallowed reluctantly.
But in a jar put up by Felicity,
The summer which maybe never was
Has been captured and preserved
And when we unscrew the lid
And slice off a piece
And let it linger on our tongue:
Unicorns become possible again.
Have a peaceful night.
Thursday, February 04, 2010
IEP day
Today was my sons IEP. We have these annually to update and add any changes needed for his education and to modify his behavior plan as needed. Since most of his behavior problems are at home, they don't see or have to cope with the worst of it.
Everything was updated and we carry on. Reading, math and speech special services and 1:1 at school.
The Concerta is helping is chatter talk and hyperactivity. A very good day.
My daughter is dealing with 2nd grade girl drama. They are already forming little cliques. I thought that didn't start until 6th grade. What do I know?
I continue to fight the school on the "new" math curriculum. My 2nd grader was told to use a calculator. I refused. I told her when she can do it in her head or on paper she can check with a calculator and not before.
I was in Office Max a few days ago and I needed them to take 10% off a $230.00 item. The 2 twenty somethings were running around asking for a calculator. I watched amusingly and said the discount is $23.00.
They were SHOCKED I could figure it out in my head. They didn't believe me and continued to look for a calculator. When they found it and verified my calculation they were a little short with me when I implied they were idiots. They said they learned math on a calculator. I reminded them they were helpless until they found it.
Everything was updated and we carry on. Reading, math and speech special services and 1:1 at school.
The Concerta is helping is chatter talk and hyperactivity. A very good day.
My daughter is dealing with 2nd grade girl drama. They are already forming little cliques. I thought that didn't start until 6th grade. What do I know?
I continue to fight the school on the "new" math curriculum. My 2nd grader was told to use a calculator. I refused. I told her when she can do it in her head or on paper she can check with a calculator and not before.
I was in Office Max a few days ago and I needed them to take 10% off a $230.00 item. The 2 twenty somethings were running around asking for a calculator. I watched amusingly and said the discount is $23.00.
They were SHOCKED I could figure it out in my head. They didn't believe me and continued to look for a calculator. When they found it and verified my calculation they were a little short with me when I implied they were idiots. They said they learned math on a calculator. I reminded them they were helpless until they found it.
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
A contented evening
I sit here this evening feeling tired yet contented. My son has been a psychiatric pharmacology lab rat for the last 2 months. I know something has to work. I know the mood stabilizers such as Lithium, Tegretol and Depakote did not and in fact made him sicker. I don't even want to list the meds we have tried over the last 6 years.
A few days ago I called the psychiatrist because GL was raging, running in circles and it was pathetic, heartbreaking and distressing for him. I tried a sedative to calm him but he was too ramped up. The doc suggested we try a stimulant even though we had in the past and it didn't work. Well this time it worked.
I couldn't believe it. After all of this time the racing and hyperactivity was manageable with Concerta? He still has RAD and is angry and unattached but at least we are able to calm his mood and he can listen and focus a little better. Small miracles in my book. And that is why I am content tonight.
A few days ago I called the psychiatrist because GL was raging, running in circles and it was pathetic, heartbreaking and distressing for him. I tried a sedative to calm him but he was too ramped up. The doc suggested we try a stimulant even though we had in the past and it didn't work. Well this time it worked.
I couldn't believe it. After all of this time the racing and hyperactivity was manageable with Concerta? He still has RAD and is angry and unattached but at least we are able to calm his mood and he can listen and focus a little better. Small miracles in my book. And that is why I am content tonight.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
This is really hard
Well, the Tegretol doesn't seem to work and is causing the same agitation and mania that the Lithium did. My baby boy came home from school and began a hypo manic rage and was so unfocused i couldn't even understand him. I tried to comfort him but he pushed me away. He thinks the medications are making him "kook coo". I agree, they certainly seem to be. We're going to hold the dose tomorrow and contact the doc.
Where we go from here is unknown, the mood stabilizers are working in the opposite way they should.
Where we go from here is unknown, the mood stabilizers are working in the opposite way they should.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
More roller coaster times
The Lithium is gone and we are now giving our son Tegretol. The Lithium caused hyper aggression and he even assaulted a younger female on the playground and that hasn't happened for a long time.
The Tegretol may take up to a week to have a noticeable difference so in the mean time I pray for patience and forgive myself when I loose it. I hate this but at one point today I said "Just shut up". first of all I hate that sentence, i don't allow my kids to say it and i find it really mean. But I said it out of complete frustration when i was busy with cooking and getting a project wrapped up and he just stood by my side chattering in the RADDY way about nothing to irritate me. So I will push him away. And i did. As soon as i said it I stopped and asked him how he felt. He said he wasn't sure; I think he was in shock. I told him how his chattering make me feel and how irritating it is. I asked him to not talk for 5 minutes but stay by me. He did and we got through it. I also put the project away since i should know that i can't do 2 things at once and parent my kids.
The Tegretol may take up to a week to have a noticeable difference so in the mean time I pray for patience and forgive myself when I loose it. I hate this but at one point today I said "Just shut up". first of all I hate that sentence, i don't allow my kids to say it and i find it really mean. But I said it out of complete frustration when i was busy with cooking and getting a project wrapped up and he just stood by my side chattering in the RADDY way about nothing to irritate me. So I will push him away. And i did. As soon as i said it I stopped and asked him how he felt. He said he wasn't sure; I think he was in shock. I told him how his chattering make me feel and how irritating it is. I asked him to not talk for 5 minutes but stay by me. He did and we got through it. I also put the project away since i should know that i can't do 2 things at once and parent my kids.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Cross your fingers
The lithium is on day 3 and all is well. The evidence states that most children with adverse effects of lithium will be seen in the first week or so. Let's hope this helps. I'm also pleased with the effects of the alprazolam. The medication makes him sleepy and calm. I needed to find a med for rage periods and not for daily use. I also know about the addictive properties of Xanax and I want to minimize his dependence.
I've also ramped up the home therapy. He is shut down. No second chances, only consequences and lots of time in with mommy. I get all of the love... I told him I'm so glad he made me aware that my breath stinks and my butt is big. I'm very grateful to hear about those physical aspects that i was never aware of :)
Yesterday we started reading "Me and My Volcano" by Deborah Hage. After we discussed a few pages he was very angry and said the book made him angry. I'm glad. He needs to continue to use his words and not his hands to communicate his anger.
My daughter is asking us to "get rid of him". I told her he would always be her brother, whether he lives here or not. But that mom and dad want to try our best to keep him home.
I'm trying to do more one on one play with her; it sounds like she needs it.
I've also ramped up the home therapy. He is shut down. No second chances, only consequences and lots of time in with mommy. I get all of the love... I told him I'm so glad he made me aware that my breath stinks and my butt is big. I'm very grateful to hear about those physical aspects that i was never aware of :)
Yesterday we started reading "Me and My Volcano" by Deborah Hage. After we discussed a few pages he was very angry and said the book made him angry. I'm glad. He needs to continue to use his words and not his hands to communicate his anger.
My daughter is asking us to "get rid of him". I told her he would always be her brother, whether he lives here or not. But that mom and dad want to try our best to keep him home.
I'm trying to do more one on one play with her; it sounds like she needs it.
Monday, January 11, 2010
New Meds
We had a retched weekend. My son had one of the most exhausting days with me Saturday. Hubby was gone helping his dad so he wasn't home to help. We like to work as a tag team when GL is raging. It gets so tiring and when tired it is easy to get mad and not be in control. I admit there are days I have to put my son in his room with the alarm on just so I can get refocused and remember getting angry or taking it personal doesn't help.
So, Saturday he started out very disrespectful, hurtful and destructive. He recently acquired a few decorations for his room and they were destroyed. All morning it was time out, time in with mom, strong sitting and finally a call to the doctor for some help. Thankfully, a local church offers a respite program once a month and I dropped my son off for 3 hours so that I could take my daughter bowling and shopping. A tomboy girl day; sports shopping for snowboard equipment. We both had a blast and it was fun to be with someone who is happy and fun. I only hope my son can get there some day.
OK, the doc called me while I was on the way home from work. we discussed his prior meds and suggestions for treatment. We are going to start Lithium and I wanted a prn (as needed) med for rages so we are going to try alprazolam (Xanax). He really wants to wean off the Abilify. My sons A1C test (diabetes) was elevated at 5.9 and this is the pre-diabetes status. A A1C over 6 used to be diabetes but the ADA just revised this to 6.5. Atypical antipsychotics such as Abilify, Geodon, Seroquel, Risperidone, Zyprexa and others have the adverse effect of increasing the risk for metabolic syndrome and diabetes. If the Lithium works as a mood stabilizer, we will wean the Abilify off. I started the meds tonight. I wondered about the Xanax since it should relax my son but everyone has a different reaction and I know that it can dis-inhibit some patients and cause an opposite reaction. I was glad to see him yawning 20 minutes after receiving it.
Sweet dreams baby boy.
So, Saturday he started out very disrespectful, hurtful and destructive. He recently acquired a few decorations for his room and they were destroyed. All morning it was time out, time in with mom, strong sitting and finally a call to the doctor for some help. Thankfully, a local church offers a respite program once a month and I dropped my son off for 3 hours so that I could take my daughter bowling and shopping. A tomboy girl day; sports shopping for snowboard equipment. We both had a blast and it was fun to be with someone who is happy and fun. I only hope my son can get there some day.
OK, the doc called me while I was on the way home from work. we discussed his prior meds and suggestions for treatment. We are going to start Lithium and I wanted a prn (as needed) med for rages so we are going to try alprazolam (Xanax). He really wants to wean off the Abilify. My sons A1C test (diabetes) was elevated at 5.9 and this is the pre-diabetes status. A A1C over 6 used to be diabetes but the ADA just revised this to 6.5. Atypical antipsychotics such as Abilify, Geodon, Seroquel, Risperidone, Zyprexa and others have the adverse effect of increasing the risk for metabolic syndrome and diabetes. If the Lithium works as a mood stabilizer, we will wean the Abilify off. I started the meds tonight. I wondered about the Xanax since it should relax my son but everyone has a different reaction and I know that it can dis-inhibit some patients and cause an opposite reaction. I was glad to see him yawning 20 minutes after receiving it.
Sweet dreams baby boy.
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
The medication waltz
Well we saw the new psych MD yesterday and I'm not sure what to report. They all seem nice the first meeting. It isn't until a few meetings when the disinterest and arrogance shows up.
We have to get labs tomorrow and see him again next week. I already told him we need more help with a mood stabilizer and a prn like Seroquel for really raging days. I hope he hears me and we start on a right path again.
We have to get labs tomorrow and see him again next week. I already told him we need more help with a mood stabilizer and a prn like Seroquel for really raging days. I hope he hears me and we start on a right path again.
Sunday, January 03, 2010
Another psychiatrist!???
Tomorrow we are off to meet a new psychiatrist. Number 4 in 5 years. Now I'm a patient woman and I respect the medical profession. I'm part of the medical profession in a nursing psychiatric kind of way.
I'm in school to be able to prescribe psychotropic medication. But I can't seem to find anyone who respects my "mom" knowledge. Who will believe me when I call and need help, a prn medication, a tweaking of the meds or an ear to listen. I need someone to hear me; not just say "hospitalize".
No, I am not expecting a miracle from meds but I know that a mood stabilizer may help, that meds need changing because of loss of effectiveness. We had that happen with the Abilify. It worked with the guanfacine for over 2 years when it just didn't. We did a med wash. What hell was that! No meds at all, daily continuous rages, the distress of watching my baby boy suffer from anxiety and confusion. The trying risperidone, depakote, lamictal and the anti-depressants.
Well, we'll see what happens...tomorrow.
I'm in school to be able to prescribe psychotropic medication. But I can't seem to find anyone who respects my "mom" knowledge. Who will believe me when I call and need help, a prn medication, a tweaking of the meds or an ear to listen. I need someone to hear me; not just say "hospitalize".
No, I am not expecting a miracle from meds but I know that a mood stabilizer may help, that meds need changing because of loss of effectiveness. We had that happen with the Abilify. It worked with the guanfacine for over 2 years when it just didn't. We did a med wash. What hell was that! No meds at all, daily continuous rages, the distress of watching my baby boy suffer from anxiety and confusion. The trying risperidone, depakote, lamictal and the anti-depressants.
Well, we'll see what happens...tomorrow.
Saturday, January 02, 2010
A day in a RAD mom life.
This article is an excellant example of what we as RAD parents go through every day as we tightrope the issues of patience and guidance.
Through the house the words rang as they had rung hundreds of times before,
No anger, no edge, no tension, just,
"Come into the bathroom, kids.
Hang up your wet towels.
They'll never dry on the floor."
And so the children come,
pick up their towels,
so they'll dry.
No problems, no fuss,
just grasp it with both hands and hang it over the hook.
Yet one child seems to cower in his room.
Facing me in the bathroom with a wet towel at my feet is too much for him.
I call again, knowing whose towel it is that is left.
Stiff with fear,
his bony thinness evident through his pajamas,
he slowly approaches the bathroom.
Standing in the doorway, his eyes watch my every muscle,
trying to discern the first twitch indicating impending violence.
None comes.
He enters, steps above the towel so that it lies between our feet.
I try to say, gently, again, "Hang up your towel".
But five minutes after a 30 second task should have been done leaves an edge of impatience
in my voice.
He stands, unable to pick up the towel for fear of losing sight of me.
For fear of bending his head and not seeing the blow that is sure to come.
What do I do now?
My mind races over the possibilities.
Do I pick up the towel for him and relieve him of his fears?
Do I master my voice and say again as kindly, as softly as possible, "Honey, you need to hang up your towel."
Do I stand quietly, waiting for the trust that will allow him to bend over and pick up
the towel?
Do I give him a hug and suggest that together we pick up the towel so he can still see
me every second?
Do I leave and let him pick it up alone?
I am not used to watching my few relaxing evening moments evaporate while a child wallows in fear
over the seemingly simple matter of hanging up a wet towel.
There is accusation in his eyes.
Accusing me of inflicting pain,
bearing the accusation for those who did.
My patience ebbs away.
The ebbing he had been waiting for.
The ebbing he knew would come.
The ebbing which would prove his fears were justified.
I abandon the reasonable options my mind has outlined and enter the world he has imagined for me.
Harsh words bark out!
"Pick up this towel immediately!"
In an instant he has grabbed up the towel,
wadded it into a ball,
thrust it onto the top of the hook,
no more able to dry than it had been on the floor.
His eyes have never left me.
The new position of the towel is worse than the old.
I am angry.
To wait so long and see such a mess made of it.
I grab his hands,
force him to take the towel down,
shake it out,
rehang it properly.
His stiffness is alarming.
His eyes try to veil the well of tears,
the sense of rejection and failure.
He flees to his room.
I go from room to room and bed to bed,
kissing each cheek,
settling everyone in for the night,
sharing evening blessings and small talk of the day.
One small body huddles against the wall,
refusing my touch,
rejecting my feeble efforts at reconciliation.
He stiffens against my embrace,
still I pick him up in my arms and try to hug his straight arms and body.
We are both crying.
Six months of patient effort to bring him out of his tomb of fear.
Lost.
Lost because of a tired mom,
and a wet towel,
lying,
on a bathroom floor.
Deb Hauge http://www.deborahhage.com/
Through the house the words rang as they had rung hundreds of times before,
No anger, no edge, no tension, just,
"Come into the bathroom, kids.
Hang up your wet towels.
They'll never dry on the floor."
And so the children come,
pick up their towels,
so they'll dry.
No problems, no fuss,
just grasp it with both hands and hang it over the hook.
Yet one child seems to cower in his room.
Facing me in the bathroom with a wet towel at my feet is too much for him.
I call again, knowing whose towel it is that is left.
Stiff with fear,
his bony thinness evident through his pajamas,
he slowly approaches the bathroom.
Standing in the doorway, his eyes watch my every muscle,
trying to discern the first twitch indicating impending violence.
None comes.
He enters, steps above the towel so that it lies between our feet.
I try to say, gently, again, "Hang up your towel".
But five minutes after a 30 second task should have been done leaves an edge of impatience
in my voice.
He stands, unable to pick up the towel for fear of losing sight of me.
For fear of bending his head and not seeing the blow that is sure to come.
What do I do now?
My mind races over the possibilities.
Do I pick up the towel for him and relieve him of his fears?
Do I master my voice and say again as kindly, as softly as possible, "Honey, you need to hang up your towel."
Do I stand quietly, waiting for the trust that will allow him to bend over and pick up
the towel?
Do I give him a hug and suggest that together we pick up the towel so he can still see
me every second?
Do I leave and let him pick it up alone?
I am not used to watching my few relaxing evening moments evaporate while a child wallows in fear
over the seemingly simple matter of hanging up a wet towel.
There is accusation in his eyes.
Accusing me of inflicting pain,
bearing the accusation for those who did.
My patience ebbs away.
The ebbing he had been waiting for.
The ebbing he knew would come.
The ebbing which would prove his fears were justified.
I abandon the reasonable options my mind has outlined and enter the world he has imagined for me.
Harsh words bark out!
"Pick up this towel immediately!"
In an instant he has grabbed up the towel,
wadded it into a ball,
thrust it onto the top of the hook,
no more able to dry than it had been on the floor.
His eyes have never left me.
The new position of the towel is worse than the old.
I am angry.
To wait so long and see such a mess made of it.
I grab his hands,
force him to take the towel down,
shake it out,
rehang it properly.
His stiffness is alarming.
His eyes try to veil the well of tears,
the sense of rejection and failure.
He flees to his room.
I go from room to room and bed to bed,
kissing each cheek,
settling everyone in for the night,
sharing evening blessings and small talk of the day.
One small body huddles against the wall,
refusing my touch,
rejecting my feeble efforts at reconciliation.
He stiffens against my embrace,
still I pick him up in my arms and try to hug his straight arms and body.
We are both crying.
Six months of patient effort to bring him out of his tomb of fear.
Lost.
Lost because of a tired mom,
and a wet towel,
lying,
on a bathroom floor.
Deb Hauge http://www.deborahhage.com/
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