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Showing posts from February, 2012

I "tried" to call....

I've mentioned in a few different posts that I have an incurable illness called neurosarcoidosis. My particular case has been hard to get into remission and at this point I'm just waiting out the pain and symptoms. (Kinda like I'm waiting out the kids case to see if I will be THE Mom.) A few years back the docs (yes plural at one point I was seeing 7 specialists) had me on a high dose of prednisone which is a steroid and it made me crazy. Seriously, I was a basket case. I was exhibiting bipolar level highs and lows and was awake for days. I was irritable and the slightest thing would make me rage and the next day would make me cry. It was fun stuff. I managed to alphabetize all of my scrapbooking embellishments and label all my supplies while also finishing the Twilight Series in one week.

The docs kept telling me it was normal on the dosage I was on to suffer from "depressive symptoms and crying spells" while on prednisone. Except I was basketcase crazy. Finall…
But I don't want to take my pills. I want to stay happy. -Jelly Bean

She was HYPER and bouncing off the walls because she had not yet taken her ADHD meds. And her sisters were including her and they were laughing together. Not at her.

I want you to stay happy too which is WHY you need to take your pills.

But I'm not like THIS when I take them.

Yes. I know. But you get really happy and then really, really sad and I don't want you to get really, really sad. The pills help you stay calm and more even.

And as if she needed to justify it to herself she then proceeded to stomp down the stairs causing her to "try it again" which then led to a melt down. Dad sent her to time out and I pulled her into my lap and instantly it was over. I felt her whole body relax against me.

I'm not sure why this morning we were gearing up to do battle with "Little Jelly Bean" which is how we refer to her brain when the trauma takes hold and all she can do is spin out of …

Radio Silence

Silence can be deafening. You know when you're in a really quiet space and you think your ears hurt from the lack of noise but you aren't sure. Similar to the calm before the storm where you notice everything is smooth but you know that all Hell may break loose. That's kind of how I feel about the lack of information and or update on the hotline investigating. I spoke to the case worker today and asked if she heard anything. Her response rubbed me the wrong way.

"No I haven't heard anything. I hope we hear something soon it will be three weeks of missed visits."

She also didn't comment when I told her one kid didn't notice a lack of Real Mom, one kid was quite clear that she was glad that visits stopped, one asked (the one was was hurt), and one who hasn't talked about it at all. I don't think she wanted my take on the situation.

Here is why the response bothered me: I don't think she's taking it seriously. I really get the feeling t…

Little Boys

Little boys do things like pee in their pajamas, not tell anyone and then put them in again the next night.
Little boys do things like write on the bedroom wall, living room wall , and kitchen table.
Little boys do things like shove packs of post it notes into the disc drive of the computer.
Little boys do things like stick plastic shoes in their mouth.
Little boys do things like play in their sisters room and then shut a locked door without anyone being on the inside.
Little boys say things like -Mama? I love you. Or Mama? You are beautiful. Or Mama I saved you a spot. And Mama I ate all my food can I have dessert please? And little boys have a belly laugh that can make your heart melt and your brain ALMOST forget the destruction of your house piece by piece.

The General Public

I had two seperate instances this week of other people making judgements about me that really bothered me.  Now I'll admit it.  I can be judgy.  I try not to be. I try REALLY hard to be empathetic and open but I'm human and therefore I make judgements all day long.  I'm guilty of doing the same thing done to me this week. I'll acknowledge and OWN that but it didn't make these two instances any easier for me to swallow.

The first was Monday at a big box store.  I was checking out with my 4 Valentine's Day cards and some odds and ends and the lady behind the counter was being nosey friendly.

Oh how cute are these cards.  Are these for your kids?

Yep. 

Oh so many! How many children do you have?

Four.

Four!?! Wow.  You don't look old enough to have four children.

(Smiling at her.)

How old are they?

11, 9, 8, and 4.

Oh.

Oh? Oh? As if that it explained it.  Her suspicion that I was a young mother confirmed. And I instantly felt bad about myself.  My own insecur…

Gabby

So my 4th grader, Gabby tends to crack me up. She is definitely dramatic. I often refer to her as a Drama Queen and if I ever become her mother I will be taking her to a talent agent and getting her, her own show on the Disney channel (which will complete my plan to live at Walt Disney World). She is incredibly smart and is an old soul. She is also unbelievably sensitive. (The first dinner here I asked her to use a napkin she burst out in tears.) She reminds me a lot of myself. She is also EXACTLY my brother growing up and she triggers me all the time in this way.

We are fairly certain she has ADD but she is so smart and so interested in school she's been able to overcome it. She bounces from subject to subject but somehow keeps all of her thoughts organized. It's really tiring to watch.

She goes through periods where she can't seem to remember anything important, such as brushing her teeth or homework. Such was the issue on Tuesday when her teacher had her call me to tel…

Does my Heart Proud

I realized yesterday that I probably don't give LM and Gabby as much Blog time as I do JB. It's true that JB is my most frustrating child and arguably the highest level of need but that doesn't meant that LM and Gabby don't have blog worthy things going on.

And low and behold last night they gave me some good material to blog about. I'm going to tackle LM first as I want to brag about her healing.

So LM is the oldest. Very much parentafied. This was a major struggle for many months an it's still an issue where visits are concerned. and typical of an 11 year old she is fibbing quite a bit. When she came to us she had the BEST poker face I have ever seen. She can participate in a stand off like no one else I know.

But lately the wall has started to come down brick by brick. She had been picking fights when she wanted to talk. Finally last night she ASKED to talk to me. She felt she was lying recently because she's "anxious" about what is going to …

Go to sleep

Me: guys when we get home I want you to get your pjs on and get into bed. You were up late last night and you need sleep.

Them: ok Mom.

We arrive home. Everyone stalls. Everyone NEEDS to tell me something (because apparently the 30 minutes we spent in the car wasn't enough time to spit it out).

Mr. Mohawk: Mom. Don't let the bugs bite. If they do bite them back ok?!?

Gabby: Mom the dog scratched me.

Jelly Bean: Mom I want the dog to sleep with me. Why do we have to go to bed? My knee hurts. My back itches.

At some point I tune her out.

LM: Mom I'm sorry for not listening earlier today. I'm worried about you spending too much money on school activities.

Me in my head: WTH? Can't I just get one easy bedtime? I have no energy left to explain all of these things in an age appropriate way that doesn't bash your mother.

Me: Please no worries. That's why dad and I work. And we will always figure out a way for you to be involved in school.

Jelly Bean: But we …

I am so afraid I'm never going to see you agian.

Admittedly, I'm a little cranky. I threw my back out on Friday and despite my trip to the most awesome chiropractor I'm still in a lot of pain. I can stand up straight but I'm still very sore. I love this man - he was able to relieve me of pain that no medical doctor could. (Seriously Google Trigeminal Neuralgia. Aka Suicide Disease. Take note that I am not a geriatric patient nor do I have a brain tumor that can be removed.) so it kind of ticked me off that after snap. Cracking, and popping my body and putting 6 acupuncture needles in my back I'm still in pain.

In case you are living in a cave tomorrow is Valentine's Day (well today as my clock just turned). This is not a real big deal to Hubby an I - or rather it's not a big deal to him and after 11 years together I've learned to not expect anything and be surprised with a card every so often. But the schools need an excuse for a party so they make a big deal. We bought no less than 120 valentines. Last y…

Dare to Dream

So this weekend we had minimal issues. Normal kid behavior. And the difference? Our weekend was ours. There were no reminders of foster care. There were no anxiety riddled visits with Mom or fear of being hurt. Instead there was a family night at a Valentines Day dance and an overnight at Grandma's house which included seeing Disney in Ice. Mom and Dad got to go to an adults only Martini Party (where Mom found her new favorite beverage Cotton Candy Vodka) and sleep in.

My mind wanders and it it goes to that "dare to dream" place. Where this IS my family. These are my kids. There is no question of where they will live or who will care for them. Where they feel safe ALL the time and they continue to make incredible progress despite their traumatic beginnings.

Because as I sit here and listen to them giggle I hope that this is the rule rather than the exception. I realize that while this is my dream it is their fear. And then I come back to the reality that we live. That …

Day Care Dance

Gabby with Daddy

Jelly Bean Dancing Queen

Visits Suspended

So it got real interesting real quick. Received a call from the investigator and then an email from the GAL (kids attorney). Apparently Mom's attorney called her.

The kids met with the investigator this afternoon and less than an hour later I got a call from the caseworker that visits were cancelled for the weekend and until further notice. She'll let us know when they are to start up again.

When I told the kids Jelly Bean said- can't we just get over it already? Oh my. That's how ingrained the abuse is. That the child who was dragged across the room thinks-no big deal. This is how life should be. So clearly more work needed there. But in a proud moment Gabby said "No. We can't just get over it. Mom dragged you across the room. That isn't right."

Still Waiting

Since we haven't heard anything (although the therapists assured me someone will be contacting me) I decided to call and get the number for a vision provider. Can I tell you it took SEVEN different numbers and transfers to get to someone who could help me? Seven.

We had a big conversation with Little Mama last night. Concern about her sister drove her to ask if she was in fact hurt by their Mom. And then we stared each other down about what she knew. She claimed she didn't remember I told her I felt she did. I felt she was trying to protect everyone. After at least 30 minutes of staring each other down my Hubby joined us. Eventually we got her discussion the events and determined that she disassociated the minute she felt scared she would get hurt too. Apparently when they would get beaten it was because one person got in trouble. The share the wealth philosophy of child abuse.

Waiting...

So no one came. I guess we will find out more tomorrow. Until then here are some pics. The sub for the superbowl was longer than Mr. Mohawk. And Jelly Bean Ice skating.

Hotline

So my concern about things being swept under the proverbial rug was addressed last night when some more details emerged last night in therapy of Saturday's visit. This prompted a hotline call by BOTH therapists.

Apparently, one of the children was yanked out of bed by the arms and dragged across the room, hit her head on the ceiling and was then pushed into the time out chair. All without any verbal direction to get up and go to time out. (Never mind that the provoking child wasn't even questioned about what happen.)

So now I guess we wait for the investigator to show up. Should make our night interesting.

And then the visit came...

And the tantrum returned. Over peeling an orange. Although I have to give her credit she held it together until 8:00pm.

She convinced herself she didn't take her medicine today because she had a hard time at her visit. Come to find out the visit supervisor told the kids not to tell us they had a bad time at their visit.

Imagine trying to console an tantruming child sobbing she wants to go home who then says to you her visit was bad. The adult in charge of keeping her safe tells her to keep secret what happened at the visit and the kid then tells you she was terrified her Mom was going to hit her while she was getting put in time out.

I mean really? ANOTHER provider in this mess who is supervising visits and reporting back is telling the kids to keep the truth from us? The family therapist and the visit supervisor? Come on people. Really? Traumatized children who have been harmed and told to keep quiet who feel tons of guilt for being in foster care because they told the TRUTH.

Giggle

We went to a movie tonight. We saw We Bought a Zoo which was equal parts funny and sad. During the movie I looked over to see Jelly Bean full on laughing. Giggling with my Hubby. Oh my goodness it was the BEST sound I ever heard. I didn't care that it cost over $100 for popcorn and tickets as long as I heard my little girl come back! Gone was the depressed, stressed, anxious, angry kid. With us was the bright little girl with rosy cheeks and a pretty flowered skirt on.

Love to be on the upswing.

All in.

Oh how I hate thee! Oh how I hate when I lose my cool (thank you very much nasty cold and stressful day at work for making me crabby) and then I trigger my kids and I spend 60 minutes trying to undue a quick outburst of frustration.

Because ya know yelling about putting stuff away instead of walking over or stepping on it equals I don't love you I'm going to call you're case worker and have her move you.

Trust me. If that was going to happen it would have been done already. There is a term in poker "pot committed" meaning you have too much invested in a hand to fold. I'm all in. If the 4 months of constant bickering and the endless case extensions and the schedule being changed every month didn't make us call the case worker yet it's not going to. Especially over towels. If we haven't called it quits over the hour long meltdowns and screaming at the top of lungs or the children being sent home from school for biting people. Using too much toilet …