It is time again for TTT! Woo Hoo!
This week I have to be short and quick and truth be told, I am going to slack a little bit. I have a lot of stuff to do for our trip starting tomorrow. I refuse to call it a vacation. I won't write what I think of in my head. Anyway, this weeks topic is..... What is the first thing you would buy if you won the lottery?
My answer is a Corvette. Automatic transmission only. Midnight blue.
Note that there is only space for 2 people in a Corvette and no car seats. And my handbag will take up that second seat.
Speaking of my handbag, how the hell am I supposed to take only 3 one ounce bottles of liquid or gel type stuff on the airplane? I take more than 3 one ounce bottles of liquids, lotions and gels to the damn grocery store! You know what else is stupid? If the airport security people find you with an extra bottle of liquid not in a quart size bag or over the ounce size, they huck it away in a bin. Okay.... if it is such a dangerous potential toxin or flammable or explosive, how are you just going to pitch it into the nearest trash can? I mean, shouldn't you call in the bomb squad or something? Get that cool robot dude to come in and take apart my little bottle of moisturizing Peachy Keen hand cream?
If you are going to call it a hazard, treat it like a hazard. Otherwise you just look stupid. (I can imagine the search hits I will get on that! Hi TSA!)
Anyway, I don't know yet if I am taking my computer to NM with me. I will try since I will desperately need all the friends who live in it.
Back to TTT #7
First thing you would spend your lottery money on! Tell the truth! Spare us the crap about buying your kids a Carousel or paying off your parents mortgage. The REAL truth!
By the way, I am also taking suggestions for future TTT's.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Ding ding ding
Genea found out when we are going on our trip to New Mexico.
All my own fault. She and Teena were watching tv for 5 minutes so I could talk to my mom on the phone and I told my mom when we were leaving and I heard Genea hollering "Yay, we are going on Wednesday Teena, YAY!!!". So for the past several days we have been dodging the Molotov cocktails hurled at us with a lot of different emotions. However, now that we are at a point where Genea has a half second of control, the half second to think before the action takes place, now we can get in there in that half second and get down and funky with it.
At dinner the other night, here comes Genea to the table sporting Look #3 all over her beautiful face. Not the dissociated look, and not the incessant crying look (numbers 1 and 2). Number 3 is the half awake dopey regressed sort of look. Where her tongue hangs out of her open mouth and she looks like she might have just woken up, if that were true. Her eyes are dull and mildly vacant. She climbs into her seat and starts off- loading Crazy immediately.
"Ewwwww, I don't like thisssssssss". Sigh. Yes you do, you have had it 100 times but that's okay just don't eat it then.
Genea 0
Mama 1
(for the record, she ate it)
Interrupts thru dinner, pouts when reminded. Chews with mouth open etc. Drinks out of her cup and dribbles an entire mouthful of milk down her chin and onto her clothes as if she were vomiting. Why?
"It tastes spicy and I don't like it". No.
"I always do that at school". No.
" I was trying to get the milk into my bowl". Nice try Genea. Are you trying to make us mad? (NO!) Are you feeling nervous inside and so you are trying to make things nervous on the outside too? (NO!) Well, it won't work. We are not going to get mad at you.
Genea 0
Mama 2
Here comes Look #2, also known as Cry Face. Precludes all crying but does not necessarily lead to crying or meltdowns anymore. Shoots out the elevated frustration sound with scrunched down eyebrows and cramped up mouth, ehhhEHHHuu WAAAAH uuhERR ehhhhh! Continues with dinner.
*COUGH* choke HOOwah *GAG* Genea chokes on her milk and spurts it all over. Sigh. Genea, are you still trying to make us mad at you? Do you want us to yell at you? Because we are not going to do it. Sometimes you act like this when you feel nervous but everything is okay and we are not mad at you.
Genea 0
Mama 3
Cries.
GENEA. Are you serious? You are going to sit there and cry because no one will get mad at you??? Here, hold my hand. Come on, give my hand a hug. You will feel better. Come on, don't just leave my hand laying here looking all silly alone on the table!
Genea 0
Mama 4
Genea. Why are you crying. Tell me why.
Because I want to sit on your lap and I cahaaahaaaaan't.
Okay, we can fix that. I can move my chair back. Done.
Now, it rarely works out like this. In fact it warrants its own blog post and a scorecard because I am pretty sure this is the first time I have ever really fought off The Crazy combined with an incoming Wango Tango and come out ahead. In our house, this was a massively successful but hard fought battle!!!!
Will it happen this way next time? I hope so. Is there a good chance Genea will expand on her repertoire and come up with new stuff? Oh yeah. Do I hope like hell that we will get the chance to divert it all? Oh YEAH! I know she was not crying because she wanted to sit on my lap the whole time. She is still a little girl and a lot of times she does not know why she is upset and will just think up something random to hang her feelings on. However, it is a huge sign of progress in my mind that she was able to express and ask for something that would help her to feel better!
In the past few days that she has known when our trip would be, she has also been back up on the toes. She has been sleeping a lot more. Last night she developed a rash on her back, neck to butt. And of all the dreaded, dreaded activities of stress, she pee'd on herself during the day. The first time that has happened in at least 5 months. Ever since Potty Boot Camp back in the spring, she has been dry as the desert on a hot windy summer day.
All my own fault. She and Teena were watching tv for 5 minutes so I could talk to my mom on the phone and I told my mom when we were leaving and I heard Genea hollering "Yay, we are going on Wednesday Teena, YAY!!!". So for the past several days we have been dodging the Molotov cocktails hurled at us with a lot of different emotions. However, now that we are at a point where Genea has a half second of control, the half second to think before the action takes place, now we can get in there in that half second and get down and funky with it.
At dinner the other night, here comes Genea to the table sporting Look #3 all over her beautiful face. Not the dissociated look, and not the incessant crying look (numbers 1 and 2). Number 3 is the half awake dopey regressed sort of look. Where her tongue hangs out of her open mouth and she looks like she might have just woken up, if that were true. Her eyes are dull and mildly vacant. She climbs into her seat and starts off- loading Crazy immediately.
"Ewwwww, I don't like thisssssssss". Sigh. Yes you do, you have had it 100 times but that's okay just don't eat it then.
Genea 0
Mama 1
(for the record, she ate it)
Interrupts thru dinner, pouts when reminded. Chews with mouth open etc. Drinks out of her cup and dribbles an entire mouthful of milk down her chin and onto her clothes as if she were vomiting. Why?
"It tastes spicy and I don't like it". No.
"I always do that at school". No.
" I was trying to get the milk into my bowl". Nice try Genea. Are you trying to make us mad? (NO!) Are you feeling nervous inside and so you are trying to make things nervous on the outside too? (NO!) Well, it won't work. We are not going to get mad at you.
Genea 0
Mama 2
Here comes Look #2, also known as Cry Face. Precludes all crying but does not necessarily lead to crying or meltdowns anymore. Shoots out the elevated frustration sound with scrunched down eyebrows and cramped up mouth, ehhhEHHHuu WAAAAH uuhERR ehhhhh! Continues with dinner.
*COUGH* choke HOOwah *GAG* Genea chokes on her milk and spurts it all over. Sigh. Genea, are you still trying to make us mad at you? Do you want us to yell at you? Because we are not going to do it. Sometimes you act like this when you feel nervous but everything is okay and we are not mad at you.
Genea 0
Mama 3
Cries.
GENEA. Are you serious? You are going to sit there and cry because no one will get mad at you??? Here, hold my hand. Come on, give my hand a hug. You will feel better. Come on, don't just leave my hand laying here looking all silly alone on the table!
Genea 0
Mama 4
Genea. Why are you crying. Tell me why.
Because I want to sit on your lap and I cahaaahaaaaan't.
Okay, we can fix that. I can move my chair back. Done.
Now, it rarely works out like this. In fact it warrants its own blog post and a scorecard because I am pretty sure this is the first time I have ever really fought off The Crazy combined with an incoming Wango Tango and come out ahead. In our house, this was a massively successful but hard fought battle!!!!
Will it happen this way next time? I hope so. Is there a good chance Genea will expand on her repertoire and come up with new stuff? Oh yeah. Do I hope like hell that we will get the chance to divert it all? Oh YEAH! I know she was not crying because she wanted to sit on my lap the whole time. She is still a little girl and a lot of times she does not know why she is upset and will just think up something random to hang her feelings on. However, it is a huge sign of progress in my mind that she was able to express and ask for something that would help her to feel better!
In the past few days that she has known when our trip would be, she has also been back up on the toes. She has been sleeping a lot more. Last night she developed a rash on her back, neck to butt. And of all the dreaded, dreaded activities of stress, she pee'd on herself during the day. The first time that has happened in at least 5 months. Ever since Potty Boot Camp back in the spring, she has been dry as the desert on a hot windy summer day.
What's funny, funny odd, not funny haha, is that she has been otherwise delightful. Pleasant, nice, polite. Definitely fits of demanding and the usual incessant unending nonsense questions thrown in for reminders sake. (Mama? Is this the table you want me to clean? Mama? Should I use a towel to wipe this? Mama? Which towel? Mama? Do you want me to wipe up this pile of goo? Mama? Where should I put this garbage?). But generally cooperative and calm. Enjoyable and enjoying herself.
Less Crazy, more Genea. Woo Hoo!
Friday, October 23, 2009
Why Dogs Don't Like Halloween
Seriously, this is so very sad and so screamingly funny at the same time!
FW: Why Dogs Don't Like Halloween
The "hootchie" dog with the thong is my favorite. I think. The cow and the alligator are close seconds.
FW: Why Dogs Don't Like Halloween
The "hootchie" dog with the thong is my favorite. I think. The cow and the alligator are close seconds.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Well I messed THAT up
I get Teena from her bus in the afternoon, then we usually wait in the driveway for Genea's bus to come about 5 minutes later. Our house is only 3 houses away from the bus stop, so I let Genea get off the bus herself and "hang" on the curb a few minutes with her friends so she can be cool while we watch her. Provided it is not raining or cold of course. Then she runs up and we all fight and kick our way to the door depending on who thinks she is the appointed leader versus who is attempting to overthrow current leadership regime versus Mama who gives not a shit and snaps on them to get moving. Right. As usual, we cannot seem to complete any sort of task in a simple or calm way. Walk to the door. That's all we have to do and we are not able to manage even that.
Chaos continues as we move through the actual door, based on who thinks she was supposed to go in first as opposed to who is trying to shove her way in first. Sometimes there is wailing, or a tantrum for mystery reasons. But it is always a loud clumsy and physical exchange what with coats and backpacks and shoes and you would genuinely think there were 14 kids there instead of just 2.
So the other day when Genea asked me in the middle of all this, as she tends to do, if she could have a hug and a kiss, I said "yes a hug no kiss" as I was trying to pull off Teena's coat inside out. I thought that sounded a bit cold, so I clarified "yes you can hug my leg if you want but I can't bend down to kiss you right now but if you really want to you can kiss my belly button", which is in the general region of where her face lands. She thought that was a hilarious idea and proceeded to kiss my shirt in the area of the belly button. Then she said "that's where babies come out from right?"!
CLANK BaBOOM PING CHATHUNK is the sound of my brain shattering and my head exploding at the same time.
"Mmmmn, umm hmmm, yeah" I mumbled, in my most educated speaking voice. As my brain was screaming "OH SHIT you told her the wrong thing and she thinks the wrong thing what NOW I was NOT expecting this what should I tell her I have to correct her she cant go around thinking babies come out of belly buttons but good CRAP I can't tell her where they REALLY come from right NOW she can't handle that information she will be shocked and appalled and horrified and not in any kind of good way oh NO what should I do don't I have a book on this somewhere where the hell is that book and what did it say I don't remember" so I coughed a bit and said :
"well, not really".
Only now Genea is looking quizzical and it is alarming how obvious it is that she is about to ask for more details and I don't have any to give her because I DON'T KNOW ANY details to give to a 6 year old. I mean I have thought about this and gone through some scenarios, mostly where I hide behind clinical terminology that I know they won't understand and maybe draw a vague outline of something, but THIS was NOT one of the ways I considered and so I said:
"Well, from the area" as I uselessly gestured toward my offending belly button. I really did that. I can't believe it even typing the words.
At which point Teena started to squirm around looking like she was going to jump in and make a point of which she does NOT HAVE any points to make so I knew THAT was not going to be anything good so I interrupted and said:
"So who wants a cookie?"
I think I successfully dodged that bullet from hell but now I cannot laze around on the whole "where babies come from" thing. My innocence has been ruined and I now have to consider where babies really DO come from and how am I going to pass that on to 2 small, sheltered children in a way they will understand and not freak out. I can no longer wave cluelessly in the wind. I know this is a slippery slope people. Slippery. Slope. Next they are going to want to know how that baby got in there and I tell you, I might just have to get laryngitis for the next 20 years. I mean come ON!
Accidental Mommy. Notice I am not the Mommy That Has it Going On, or the Mommy Who Knows Stuff. Not Supermommy or Mommy Who Can Handle Everything.
Accidental.
Chaos continues as we move through the actual door, based on who thinks she was supposed to go in first as opposed to who is trying to shove her way in first. Sometimes there is wailing, or a tantrum for mystery reasons. But it is always a loud clumsy and physical exchange what with coats and backpacks and shoes and you would genuinely think there were 14 kids there instead of just 2.
So the other day when Genea asked me in the middle of all this, as she tends to do, if she could have a hug and a kiss, I said "yes a hug no kiss" as I was trying to pull off Teena's coat inside out. I thought that sounded a bit cold, so I clarified "yes you can hug my leg if you want but I can't bend down to kiss you right now but if you really want to you can kiss my belly button", which is in the general region of where her face lands. She thought that was a hilarious idea and proceeded to kiss my shirt in the area of the belly button. Then she said "that's where babies come out from right?"!
CLANK BaBOOM PING CHATHUNK is the sound of my brain shattering and my head exploding at the same time.
"Mmmmn, umm hmmm, yeah" I mumbled, in my most educated speaking voice. As my brain was screaming "OH SHIT you told her the wrong thing and she thinks the wrong thing what NOW I was NOT expecting this what should I tell her I have to correct her she cant go around thinking babies come out of belly buttons but good CRAP I can't tell her where they REALLY come from right NOW she can't handle that information she will be shocked and appalled and horrified and not in any kind of good way oh NO what should I do don't I have a book on this somewhere where the hell is that book and what did it say I don't remember" so I coughed a bit and said :
"well, not really".
Only now Genea is looking quizzical and it is alarming how obvious it is that she is about to ask for more details and I don't have any to give her because I DON'T KNOW ANY details to give to a 6 year old. I mean I have thought about this and gone through some scenarios, mostly where I hide behind clinical terminology that I know they won't understand and maybe draw a vague outline of something, but THIS was NOT one of the ways I considered and so I said:
"Well, from the area" as I uselessly gestured toward my offending belly button. I really did that. I can't believe it even typing the words.
At which point Teena started to squirm around looking like she was going to jump in and make a point of which she does NOT HAVE any points to make so I knew THAT was not going to be anything good so I interrupted and said:
"So who wants a cookie?"
I think I successfully dodged that bullet from hell but now I cannot laze around on the whole "where babies come from" thing. My innocence has been ruined and I now have to consider where babies really DO come from and how am I going to pass that on to 2 small, sheltered children in a way they will understand and not freak out. I can no longer wave cluelessly in the wind. I know this is a slippery slope people. Slippery. Slope. Next they are going to want to know how that baby got in there and I tell you, I might just have to get laryngitis for the next 20 years. I mean come ON!
Accidental Mommy. Notice I am not the Mommy That Has it Going On, or the Mommy Who Knows Stuff. Not Supermommy or Mommy Who Can Handle Everything.
Accidental.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Need help and suggestions....
Okay, so when I was growing up we were all card toting members of the Clean Plate Cult. You ate what was on your plate until your plate was clean. However long it took, you sat at the table. My parents grew up with parents who had survived The Great Depression and I quite clearly recall my grandparents having a slice of bread at every meal. The function of that piece of bread being to wipe the plate after most of the food had been eaten. Then, they ate the bread. Not a speck of food was wasted. So I get that. I understand the history and background of the cult.
I also understand eating disorders. Anorexia, Bulimia, Binge eating and Obesity. I don't understand them very well but I know just enough to be certain that Genea is an eating disorder waiting to happen. Her obsessive need for control, her compulsion to manipulate her environment, her hyper vigilance and constant elevated stress level. I get it that eating disorders are not about the food. Every couple of months she will go through a spat where her behavior focuses on food. Asking for extra and not eating it. Refusing to eat, then stealing food later. Hoarding food, hiding food in the trash, binging, all the usual. Want to tell her she has to eat? She will, and then she will spontaneously vomit. She doesn't need to gag herself, stick fingers in her throat or anything. She will just sit there, and then *splat* she pukes. She will binge drink her water or milk so fast that it chokes her and gags her and her face turns red and she is still trying to force more liquid in while she is coughing and it is flying out the sides of her mouth and down her shirt. She is in absolute control of this, and if I give her a spoon to get her liquids with for one meal *poof* problem over. The Husband and I are to where we can tell when she is being a regular bratty fussy kid versus having a RAD attack, but we are not going to ask anyone else to figure out the difference.
Here is where I need help. We are going to visit grandparents who are proud high ranking officials in the Clean Plate Cult. They are incessant about it. When they are not actually physically trying to force food on my kids, they are talking about their food intake in front of them. I have hinted to them to quit. I have outright said, quit it. I have taken food out of the hand trying to feed my child and said STOP IT. The Husband has tried to explain orphanage related eating issues. Has tried to tell them we want our girls to learn to moderate their own food intake. That Genea is coming from different circumstances and we just cannot make food an issue with her. And we cannot make it an issue with Teena either. I have told them over and over, we want the girls to stop eating when they are ready and to be able to figure out for themselves when they are full. To listen to their bodies and moderate what they eat as to how hungry they are and then to know when to stop.
The kicker is, both of these people are overweight. One directly attributes her weight to being made to clean her plate as a kid. Now she freaks out about food being wasted etc etc. So it is not that they don't know, they just cannot seem to make themselves shut up. On and on and on about how much of this, how little of that, maybe we should give her this, we've never seen her eat an entire plate of food etc. "oh sweetie eat that little bitty bit of food for gramma" and "you make gramma sad when you don't eat your food" complete with a pouty face. I just cringe thinking about it.
So my last ditch effort is to send them some reading material ahead of our visit. Maybe if they see it in writing, writing done by professionals, maybe they will get it then. Because if they don't, I am going to have to supervise every. single. meal. and after that, I will have to insist that all my kids meals be had away from them, which the result of that is then I am making an issue out of their eating. Which is of course, NOT the point!
Here is where I need help. I can't seem to find any good comprehensive articles about trauma, orphanages and food problems. I don't need suggestions on how to tell them to piss off, since that hasn't worked either. I am looking for some basic information that connects all the dots, even if it is graphic. Maybe even better if it is graphic. We have Attachment Disorder, Failure to Thrive, Bipolar Disorder, Post- Trauma, and Post-institutionalization to pick from to start with.
For as much as I may get my nerves tap danced upon, these are two people that adore their grandchildren and would never in a million years want to hurt them in any way shape or form. They just don't understand and I need to MAKE them!!!
So please, if you know of anything I can print out or buy, leave me a link or let me know of a website or whatever. I will be SO eternally grateful!!!!!
I also understand eating disorders. Anorexia, Bulimia, Binge eating and Obesity. I don't understand them very well but I know just enough to be certain that Genea is an eating disorder waiting to happen. Her obsessive need for control, her compulsion to manipulate her environment, her hyper vigilance and constant elevated stress level. I get it that eating disorders are not about the food. Every couple of months she will go through a spat where her behavior focuses on food. Asking for extra and not eating it. Refusing to eat, then stealing food later. Hoarding food, hiding food in the trash, binging, all the usual. Want to tell her she has to eat? She will, and then she will spontaneously vomit. She doesn't need to gag herself, stick fingers in her throat or anything. She will just sit there, and then *splat* she pukes. She will binge drink her water or milk so fast that it chokes her and gags her and her face turns red and she is still trying to force more liquid in while she is coughing and it is flying out the sides of her mouth and down her shirt. She is in absolute control of this, and if I give her a spoon to get her liquids with for one meal *poof* problem over. The Husband and I are to where we can tell when she is being a regular bratty fussy kid versus having a RAD attack, but we are not going to ask anyone else to figure out the difference.
Here is where I need help. We are going to visit grandparents who are proud high ranking officials in the Clean Plate Cult. They are incessant about it. When they are not actually physically trying to force food on my kids, they are talking about their food intake in front of them. I have hinted to them to quit. I have outright said, quit it. I have taken food out of the hand trying to feed my child and said STOP IT. The Husband has tried to explain orphanage related eating issues. Has tried to tell them we want our girls to learn to moderate their own food intake. That Genea is coming from different circumstances and we just cannot make food an issue with her. And we cannot make it an issue with Teena either. I have told them over and over, we want the girls to stop eating when they are ready and to be able to figure out for themselves when they are full. To listen to their bodies and moderate what they eat as to how hungry they are and then to know when to stop.
The kicker is, both of these people are overweight. One directly attributes her weight to being made to clean her plate as a kid. Now she freaks out about food being wasted etc etc. So it is not that they don't know, they just cannot seem to make themselves shut up. On and on and on about how much of this, how little of that, maybe we should give her this, we've never seen her eat an entire plate of food etc. "oh sweetie eat that little bitty bit of food for gramma" and "you make gramma sad when you don't eat your food" complete with a pouty face. I just cringe thinking about it.
So my last ditch effort is to send them some reading material ahead of our visit. Maybe if they see it in writing, writing done by professionals, maybe they will get it then. Because if they don't, I am going to have to supervise every. single. meal. and after that, I will have to insist that all my kids meals be had away from them, which the result of that is then I am making an issue out of their eating. Which is of course, NOT the point!
Here is where I need help. I can't seem to find any good comprehensive articles about trauma, orphanages and food problems. I don't need suggestions on how to tell them to piss off, since that hasn't worked either. I am looking for some basic information that connects all the dots, even if it is graphic. Maybe even better if it is graphic. We have Attachment Disorder, Failure to Thrive, Bipolar Disorder, Post- Trauma, and Post-institutionalization to pick from to start with.
For as much as I may get my nerves tap danced upon, these are two people that adore their grandchildren and would never in a million years want to hurt them in any way shape or form. They just don't understand and I need to MAKE them!!!
So please, if you know of anything I can print out or buy, leave me a link or let me know of a website or whatever. I will be SO eternally grateful!!!!!
Monday, October 19, 2009
Hee hee
I make myself giggle sometimes.
My girls, like most kids, are just awful about taking care of their things. Mostly I don't care, they are more important than their things and they are pretty good about learning from it. Plus The Husband and I are all about the "incidental teaching" moments. We take all the opportunities we get to remind whatever kid that she would have had blank to play with had she not done whatever to blank. And if it is really important or really expensive, we keep it out of their reach in the first place.
So anyway, they have crapped all over their CD's and DVD's. This weekend we did a lot of cleaning up (despite my being near my deathbed) and found them all over the place. I swear a few even had snot on them. Ick. To fast forward, (insert your own screaming crying fits here) we took them all away for a time we will determine on our own schedule. In other words, when I can't stand it anymore I will park them back in front of a movie. When they have their hour long rest time, no more music or stories to listen to. No Mozart or beautiful fairy princess stories. No more chance to argue about whose turn it is to pick either. Sorry dudettes, you wrecked them all. Instead, I have chosen for them. Yes indeedy, I have.
Instructional Cantonese on CD.
Hee he he he hee!
My girls, like most kids, are just awful about taking care of their things. Mostly I don't care, they are more important than their things and they are pretty good about learning from it. Plus The Husband and I are all about the "incidental teaching" moments. We take all the opportunities we get to remind whatever kid that she would have had blank to play with had she not done whatever to blank. And if it is really important or really expensive, we keep it out of their reach in the first place.
So anyway, they have crapped all over their CD's and DVD's. This weekend we did a lot of cleaning up (despite my being near my deathbed) and found them all over the place. I swear a few even had snot on them. Ick. To fast forward, (insert your own screaming crying fits here) we took them all away for a time we will determine on our own schedule. In other words, when I can't stand it anymore I will park them back in front of a movie. When they have their hour long rest time, no more music or stories to listen to. No Mozart or beautiful fairy princess stories. No more chance to argue about whose turn it is to pick either. Sorry dudettes, you wrecked them all. Instead, I have chosen for them. Yes indeedy, I have.
Instructional Cantonese on CD.
Hee he he he hee!
Sunday, October 18, 2009
All Highest Praises to Single Moms
I have the flu for the 3rd time this year. I have not had the flu for like, 2 decades before this. So obviously it felt it had some catching up to do.
And you know what? Karma socked me in the ass and I have a sore throat still. I don't think it ever got better from my hissy fit and just rolled right into a viral thing.
Teena was fluish about a week ago. Thankfully she has the decency to get sick on the weekend while there is a Husband to help out with either the sicko puke-o or the hyper unsick one. How do single moms do it????? I don't know!!! Now I am sick and he has dealt with the kids most of the weekend. I was fairly useless and had I been on my own, well, someone would not have survived this. Genea of course, rarely gets sick at all. She just brings the germs home, knocks us out with 'em, then steals all our candy.
(LMAO that's not true of course but it gave me the funniest image when I thought it and if it is not funny and just bizarre, well, blame the dayquil) (But it's true she rarely gets sick and seems to be a thing with kids from traumatic backgrounds).
Anyway, dragging my butt to bed. Hope I feel better in the morning.
Seriously, single Moms should get combat pay.
Dang, spell check doesn't like hissy, fluish or unsick. Stupid spell check.
NOW I am going to bed.
And you know what? Karma socked me in the ass and I have a sore throat still. I don't think it ever got better from my hissy fit and just rolled right into a viral thing.
Teena was fluish about a week ago. Thankfully she has the decency to get sick on the weekend while there is a Husband to help out with either the sicko puke-o or the hyper unsick one. How do single moms do it????? I don't know!!! Now I am sick and he has dealt with the kids most of the weekend. I was fairly useless and had I been on my own, well, someone would not have survived this. Genea of course, rarely gets sick at all. She just brings the germs home, knocks us out with 'em, then steals all our candy.
(LMAO that's not true of course but it gave me the funniest image when I thought it and if it is not funny and just bizarre, well, blame the dayquil) (But it's true she rarely gets sick and seems to be a thing with kids from traumatic backgrounds).
Anyway, dragging my butt to bed. Hope I feel better in the morning.
Seriously, single Moms should get combat pay.
Dang, spell check doesn't like hissy, fluish or unsick. Stupid spell check.
NOW I am going to bed.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Sore. Throat.
Yesterday I yelled at my kids for so long my throat hurt when I was finally done.
I didn't scream and it was not an out -of -control thing. It was not a rage. I just yelled. I yelled long and I yelled loud.
I have done nicey- nice voice to death. I have been understanding. Compassionate. I have listened and supported. I have tried to compromise. I have tried to fulfill needs that appear never- ending. I have been present during rages. I have been calm. I have been loving and affectionate. Been to my happy place and stayed (mostly) regulated. I have been in the moment. I have listened to the fear instead of the words. I have responded to the intention instead of the action. I have jacked up the positive. Ignored the negative.
I have breathed in. And out.
Not only do I have one child who goes from 0-60 in one single second but now I have another child who thinks that is how you get stuff done around here.
I remember reading an article a few years back about yelling at your kids. It was full of scathing remarks like "indulging in your anger will scar your children for life". "Raising your voice to children teaches them to be serial killers "(not an exact quote but you get the idea). So anyway, Teena especially was being a screeching brat yesterday. Remember The Exorcist? I would not have been surprised had she walked up the stairs backwards and upside down. Seriously! Well take THAT Parent Magazine. I'm sure they never interviewed Regan's twin sisters for any article they ever wrote suggesting that allowing your frustration to show as a parent makes your kids think they are bad and will lead to life long eating disorders (my personal fear for Genea in particular). I don't need a parenting magazine anyway, I need to call the archdiocese.
Listen, I was a great parent before I had kids. I really rocked this shit.
And I am not saying I am proud of myself..... but it did feel good.
(Before anyone gets their commenting fingers in a bunch yes I know this was not a good thing and I very well could have set us back by having my little fit and I should have been able to be the adult, put on my big-girl panties, and suck it up. I know. I do not claim to be Super Mom, only Generally Adequate Mom on Most Days).
I didn't scream and it was not an out -of -control thing. It was not a rage. I just yelled. I yelled long and I yelled loud.
I have done nicey- nice voice to death. I have been understanding. Compassionate. I have listened and supported. I have tried to compromise. I have tried to fulfill needs that appear never- ending. I have been present during rages. I have been calm. I have been loving and affectionate. Been to my happy place and stayed (mostly) regulated. I have been in the moment. I have listened to the fear instead of the words. I have responded to the intention instead of the action. I have jacked up the positive. Ignored the negative.
I have breathed in. And out.
Not only do I have one child who goes from 0-60 in one single second but now I have another child who thinks that is how you get stuff done around here.
I remember reading an article a few years back about yelling at your kids. It was full of scathing remarks like "indulging in your anger will scar your children for life". "Raising your voice to children teaches them to be serial killers "(not an exact quote but you get the idea). So anyway, Teena especially was being a screeching brat yesterday. Remember The Exorcist? I would not have been surprised had she walked up the stairs backwards and upside down. Seriously! Well take THAT Parent Magazine. I'm sure they never interviewed Regan's twin sisters for any article they ever wrote suggesting that allowing your frustration to show as a parent makes your kids think they are bad and will lead to life long eating disorders (my personal fear for Genea in particular). I don't need a parenting magazine anyway, I need to call the archdiocese.
Listen, I was a great parent before I had kids. I really rocked this shit.
And I am not saying I am proud of myself..... but it did feel good.
(Before anyone gets their commenting fingers in a bunch yes I know this was not a good thing and I very well could have set us back by having my little fit and I should have been able to be the adult, put on my big-girl panties, and suck it up. I know. I do not claim to be Super Mom, only Generally Adequate Mom on Most Days).
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Too True Tues #6
Well quite frankly, I've hit the motherlode on this one. The subject of this week's TTT is the worst gift you have ever received. The sort of thing that if a co-worker were telling you about it, you would not believe them. You wouldn't believe it yourself if it hadn't happened. But it's true, every bit. Bonus points if you can find a photo.
In my life I have one particular offender and ohhhhhh my, offensive she is. I have been gifted with a Sonny and Cher fur vest. A blouse with Christmas trees on it outlined in glitter. Acrylic socks for every holiday. A fake leather "shirt". A rug with a hole cut out for your head to make it a poncho. So many ugly little items that it slowly became clear to me that there was no accident happening here. There had to be deliberation. No one single person could mistakenly obtain that much ugliness without prior planning. No one single person could find that much ugliness attractive and of value.
Last year on my birthday, a big production was made of the gift. Ooh oh oh, she could not wait for me to open this special thing. So excited. Oooh ohoh, had to wait for the explanation blah blah blah because it was so special. I opened a small box in dread knowing that the small boxes usually contained offenses to jewelry. Sure enough, it was a big clunky wire bracelet thing with a chunk of stone on it. Turquoise. And praise the Lord and pass the ammunition, there were earrings to match. I tried so hard to only look at them sideways so as to not damage my vision (I have the same reaction to unfortunate handbags).(I don't hate turquoise, its just not my thing, its pretty on other people).
Now at about this point I am sure people are going, dang you selfish shithead, maybe it wasn't your taste but the thought is what counts. Or wow, lady, give it a rest, geez. But wait, there is more to the story.
The background of the offense to jewelry was the important part. The exciting part. The part that made it special. See, the jewelry belonged to the gifter. As it was told to me, she put the bracelet on herself recently and "decided it wasn't right for" her anymore and so she "should pass it on". You got it, she decided she did not like it any more. That it was time to pass it on. Very close to the exact words.
So was it an important antique?
No.
Was it a family heirloom?
No.
Was it a special thing in any way?
No.
It was just used. Used jewelry for my birthday. That she didn't like anymore and decided it was time to pass it on. To me.
In my life I have one particular offender and ohhhhhh my, offensive she is. I have been gifted with a Sonny and Cher fur vest. A blouse with Christmas trees on it outlined in glitter. Acrylic socks for every holiday. A fake leather "shirt". A rug with a hole cut out for your head to make it a poncho. So many ugly little items that it slowly became clear to me that there was no accident happening here. There had to be deliberation. No one single person could mistakenly obtain that much ugliness without prior planning. No one single person could find that much ugliness attractive and of value.
Last year on my birthday, a big production was made of the gift. Ooh oh oh, she could not wait for me to open this special thing. So excited. Oooh ohoh, had to wait for the explanation blah blah blah because it was so special. I opened a small box in dread knowing that the small boxes usually contained offenses to jewelry. Sure enough, it was a big clunky wire bracelet thing with a chunk of stone on it. Turquoise. And praise the Lord and pass the ammunition, there were earrings to match. I tried so hard to only look at them sideways so as to not damage my vision (I have the same reaction to unfortunate handbags).(I don't hate turquoise, its just not my thing, its pretty on other people).
Now at about this point I am sure people are going, dang you selfish shithead, maybe it wasn't your taste but the thought is what counts. Or wow, lady, give it a rest, geez. But wait, there is more to the story.
The background of the offense to jewelry was the important part. The exciting part. The part that made it special. See, the jewelry belonged to the gifter. As it was told to me, she put the bracelet on herself recently and "decided it wasn't right for" her anymore and so she "should pass it on". You got it, she decided she did not like it any more. That it was time to pass it on. Very close to the exact words.
So was it an important antique?
No.
Was it a family heirloom?
No.
Was it a special thing in any way?
No.
It was just used. Used jewelry for my birthday. That she didn't like anymore and decided it was time to pass it on. To me.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Random stuff
I am nominating myself for "Laziest Mom on the Planet". I feel like I should do it before someone else does. Kind of like David Letterman. I always used to silently mock those lazy slugs who would drive their kids a block to the stupid bus stop. Even worse, when I lived in Ohio I drove to work going passed a lot of farms and while the houses were set back from the street it still struck me as lazier than snot when I would see a parent and kid sitting in a running car at the end of the driveway.
See that white house at the end of the block there? That is Teena's bus stop.
See that brown building at the end there? That is Teena's school. Here where I live there are no sidewalks and so all 4k and kindergarten students are bussed to school no matter where they come from.
So today, it is 37 degree's out and I drove Teena to the bus stop and waited in the car for the bus to take her one block. Yes I did. I thought I should admit it myself before it turns up in the newspapers. I drove off afterwards, to make it look like I might have had an urgent appointment and so was forced to sit impatiently in the car to maximize my time. Really though, Target is open for like 12 hours every day.
Here is another thing. It is supposed to snow today. I am not kidding, if so much as one stinking snowflake even thinks of landing its ugly feet on me I am going to go off. I don't know on who, and I don't exactly have a plan but take my word for it I will be pissed off and taking names! Snow in October! The party responsible for this weather is really the one at fault for my having to take my car to the bus stop. Not me.
Here is a slinky sort of award from Obladi Oblada! So very cool! I always get very excited when this happens and feel like maybe I should have a speech. But I don't. However, I am passing this on to 4 bloggers, as per the rules!
http://www.annieology.com/
http://www.onemothersday.blogspot.com/
http://alwayswanted4.blogspot.com/
http://sherific.blogspot.com/
There you are!
Tomorrow is Tuesday and therefore it Too True Tues! Whipee!!!! The subject is, what is the worst gift you ever got. A gift so bad you would have never believed it could have even happened had it not happened to you! I will post up all the little technicalities tomorrow. Assuming I am not arrested for snowflake assassination.
See that white house at the end of the block there? That is Teena's bus stop.
See that brown building at the end there? That is Teena's school. Here where I live there are no sidewalks and so all 4k and kindergarten students are bussed to school no matter where they come from.
So today, it is 37 degree's out and I drove Teena to the bus stop and waited in the car for the bus to take her one block. Yes I did. I thought I should admit it myself before it turns up in the newspapers. I drove off afterwards, to make it look like I might have had an urgent appointment and so was forced to sit impatiently in the car to maximize my time. Really though, Target is open for like 12 hours every day.
Here is another thing. It is supposed to snow today. I am not kidding, if so much as one stinking snowflake even thinks of landing its ugly feet on me I am going to go off. I don't know on who, and I don't exactly have a plan but take my word for it I will be pissed off and taking names! Snow in October! The party responsible for this weather is really the one at fault for my having to take my car to the bus stop. Not me.
Here is a slinky sort of award from Obladi Oblada! So very cool! I always get very excited when this happens and feel like maybe I should have a speech. But I don't. However, I am passing this on to 4 bloggers, as per the rules!
http://www.annieology.com/http://www.onemothersday.blogspot.com/
http://alwayswanted4.blogspot.com/
http://sherific.blogspot.com/
There you are!
Tomorrow is Tuesday and therefore it Too True Tues! Whipee!!!! The subject is, what is the worst gift you ever got. A gift so bad you would have never believed it could have even happened had it not happened to you! I will post up all the little technicalities tomorrow. Assuming I am not arrested for snowflake assassination.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Family Needs Help
Please click here and think of anyone you know who might be able to help this family. It is a desperate and devastating position to be in.
My family adopted Genea from a disruption. As most know, she was originally adopted from Ukraine as a toddler. I think, in my opinion and not having been there, that there was very little hope for that adoption in the first place. The family sought help from every resource available. In the short span of one year she had seen 5 medical doctors who were unable to determine what was causing her problems. Therapists and counselors. Her problems being that she wailed for hours on end and would then dissociate for hours on end. Having seen her dissociate, I can say with authority that it is extremely frightening. She becomes almost catatonic. If you were to pick up her arm for example, and let go, it would flop back down as if she were sleeping. But she wasn't. Her eyes would be open but she was not seeing and she would not move. Then she stopped growing. Initially upon arrival to the United States, she grew rapidly the first 6 months or so. Then across the next year, she stopped growing. When we met her she was 4 years old and the same height as Teena. She was just under 30 inches tall and had been wearing the same shoes for 2 years.
She was diagnosed with several different medical conditions. The family was primarily blamed for being bad parents. I don't know if they were or not but I think they were probably as good as most people would have been. Genea's body had burned out it's ability to produce stress hormone and she had to be on strict medication. No one knows what caused it and it is extremely rare, especially in children. Any physical injury had to be dealt with as a life or death possibility. If she became sick and vomited, we had to inject her with medication to counter the stress to her body. There were many different doses for different injuries or illnesses.
There were many other factors that led to the disruption of her adoption, those things are the tip of the tip of the iceburg. I can tell you this, I have about 20 years of experience in human services. I worked in a group home for severely and profoundly developmentally disabled adults just released from life long institutionalization. I worked with juvenile offenders. I worked in another group home for young girls (5-12) who had been specifically sexually abused (other abuses as well but this was a treatment home). They had all been in therapeutic foster homes and this group home was the stop before long term hospitalization. I worked doing autism treatment with young children, ages 2-12. I did what is called intensive in-home psychotherapy with severely emotionally disturbed children and teenagers. I went to the child's house to work with the family for 6 to 8 hours a week.
Genea's problems still knocked me out. And for a good 6..... 8.... 12 months I lived upside down and inside out. It is not and was not her fault, however it is a fact. We met Genea as a 'turtle'. She was withdrawn and clinically depressed. She rarely spoke and did not make a sound when she cried. We met with her and the other family many times and did a transition over about 4 weeks. Heavily monitered by the adoption agency and our therapist, we did everything by the book as far as the optimal plan goes. Well, I'll probably never know why, but the day she moved in with us she turned into a mountain lion and has been that way ever since. And rest assured, she makes noise when she cries.
That's just a little bit of our story. Hopefully if anyone was feeling judgemental, it might make you think again or at least get another perspective.
So I wish all the best for the Watching the Waters family, every single member!
My family adopted Genea from a disruption. As most know, she was originally adopted from Ukraine as a toddler. I think, in my opinion and not having been there, that there was very little hope for that adoption in the first place. The family sought help from every resource available. In the short span of one year she had seen 5 medical doctors who were unable to determine what was causing her problems. Therapists and counselors. Her problems being that she wailed for hours on end and would then dissociate for hours on end. Having seen her dissociate, I can say with authority that it is extremely frightening. She becomes almost catatonic. If you were to pick up her arm for example, and let go, it would flop back down as if she were sleeping. But she wasn't. Her eyes would be open but she was not seeing and she would not move. Then she stopped growing. Initially upon arrival to the United States, she grew rapidly the first 6 months or so. Then across the next year, she stopped growing. When we met her she was 4 years old and the same height as Teena. She was just under 30 inches tall and had been wearing the same shoes for 2 years.
She was diagnosed with several different medical conditions. The family was primarily blamed for being bad parents. I don't know if they were or not but I think they were probably as good as most people would have been. Genea's body had burned out it's ability to produce stress hormone and she had to be on strict medication. No one knows what caused it and it is extremely rare, especially in children. Any physical injury had to be dealt with as a life or death possibility. If she became sick and vomited, we had to inject her with medication to counter the stress to her body. There were many different doses for different injuries or illnesses.
There were many other factors that led to the disruption of her adoption, those things are the tip of the tip of the iceburg. I can tell you this, I have about 20 years of experience in human services. I worked in a group home for severely and profoundly developmentally disabled adults just released from life long institutionalization. I worked with juvenile offenders. I worked in another group home for young girls (5-12) who had been specifically sexually abused (other abuses as well but this was a treatment home). They had all been in therapeutic foster homes and this group home was the stop before long term hospitalization. I worked doing autism treatment with young children, ages 2-12. I did what is called intensive in-home psychotherapy with severely emotionally disturbed children and teenagers. I went to the child's house to work with the family for 6 to 8 hours a week.
Genea's problems still knocked me out. And for a good 6..... 8.... 12 months I lived upside down and inside out. It is not and was not her fault, however it is a fact. We met Genea as a 'turtle'. She was withdrawn and clinically depressed. She rarely spoke and did not make a sound when she cried. We met with her and the other family many times and did a transition over about 4 weeks. Heavily monitered by the adoption agency and our therapist, we did everything by the book as far as the optimal plan goes. Well, I'll probably never know why, but the day she moved in with us she turned into a mountain lion and has been that way ever since. And rest assured, she makes noise when she cries.
That's just a little bit of our story. Hopefully if anyone was feeling judgemental, it might make you think again or at least get another perspective.
So I wish all the best for the Watching the Waters family, every single member!
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Lame. I. Am.
*sigh*
How pathetic is it that I got all teared up at Jim and Pam's wedding tonite?
Ok, not need-a- tissue teary, but teary is teary. And since neither one of these people are real, does that make it worse?
If you don't watch tv they are on a show called The Office. Anyway.
Is it just lame? Or dumb and lame? Stupid and imbecilically lame? Other adjectives?
(Or are they superlatives? I went to public school, I cannot be accountable for my grammatical errors). (That's public school in Illinois). You get the idea.
They are such a sweet couple!
Okay.
Lame.
I.
Am!
How pathetic is it that I got all teared up at Jim and Pam's wedding tonite?
Ok, not need-a- tissue teary, but teary is teary. And since neither one of these people are real, does that make it worse?
If you don't watch tv they are on a show called The Office. Anyway.
Is it just lame? Or dumb and lame? Stupid and imbecilically lame? Other adjectives?
(Or are they superlatives? I went to public school, I cannot be accountable for my grammatical errors). (That's public school in Illinois). You get the idea.
They are such a sweet couple!
Okay.
Lame.
I.
Am!
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Look at this!
This is from http://www.annieology.com/ . I am assuming she means "Over the Top" in a positive, cool way! I am just going to run with that assumption LMAO!
This award does come with a few rules;
Answer the survey below…you can only use one word answers!
Pass this along to 6 of your favorite bloggers!
Alert them that you have given them this award!
Have Fun!
_______________________________________________________Where is your cell phone?- Someone needs to call it – couch.
Your hair? -knotty
Your mother?- nice
Your father? – loud
This award does come with a few rules;
Answer the survey below…you can only use one word answers!
Pass this along to 6 of your favorite bloggers!
Alert them that you have given them this award!
Have Fun!
_______________________________________________________Where is your cell phone?- Someone needs to call it – couch.
Your hair? -knotty
Your mother?- nice
Your father? – loud
Your favorite food?-lobster
Your dream last night?- dunno'
Your favorite drink? coffee
Your dream/goal? – quiet
Your dream last night?- dunno'
Your favorite drink? coffee
Your dream/goal? – quiet
What room are you in?- dining
Your hobby?- knitting
Your Fear?- spiders
Where do you want to be in 6 years? – beach
Where were you last night? – bed
Something that you aren’t? Patient
Muffins? blueberry
Wish list item? corvette
Muffins? blueberry
Wish list item? corvette
Where did you grow up? illinois
Last thing you did? busstop
What are you wearing? sweats
Your TV? big
What are you wearing? sweats
Your TV? big
Your pets? cats
Friends? working
Your life? exhausting
Friends? working
Your life? exhausting
Your mood? exhausted.
Missing someone? no
Missing someone? no
Vehicle? sedan
Something you’re not wearing? bra
Your favorite store? Target
Your favorite color? Purple
When was the last time you laughed? morning
Last time you cried? long
One place that I go to over and over? Mexico
Something you’re not wearing? bra
Your favorite store? Target
Your favorite color? Purple
When was the last time you laughed? morning
Last time you cried? long
One place that I go to over and over? Mexico
One person who emails me regularly? spam
Favorite place to eat? Starbucks
Favorite place to eat? Starbucks
So for my 6 bloggers I am going to nominate the new people I have "met" recently, so we can get to know you better. (And so you can get an award cuz it really makes me so happy to get one, especially when I was new, I figure it does for everyone).
Here they are:
And lastly, new to my followers (yeeha!) but giving fair warning on the language..... (she says the words I mostly just think lol)
And in all seriousness, here is a great blog I found because the family was on Oprah yesterday. They have a daughter with schizophrenia and this is the Dad's blog:
Monday, October 5, 2009
I want to see Michael Jacksons doctor please
Paging Dr. Murray......
In a few weeks we have my favorite time of year. The annual visit to the in- laws in New Mexico. Ahhhhh. Total saturation.
As a refresher, for anyone who was not here last year or has their own life and has not memorized mine, here is a post from the visit. And another.
I call it the Great Land of Undiagnosed Aspergers with all due respect. We are talking nuclear physicists here people. Seriously, real ones. 40 and 50 years ago people were not diagnosed with Aspergers but that does not mean it did not exist. I think it is amazing to turn what would be considered a disability into an enjoyable and profitable life long career.
I will visit yarn stores and the Coach outlet. I will be taking my girls back to the Sanctuario de Chimayo as it has become obvious they need a fresh trip to the Holy Dirt. Maybe I will have them jump in the hole this time and wiggle around some. These are the things that will be fun and -or interesting for me. That leaves approximately 142 other hours to fill with close up in- law fun.
If I may, I would just like to complain once again that back when we were child-free, NO ONE cared about The Husband and I and we were free to live our lives as we pleased. No one especially cared to see us, visit us, or have us visit them. That has all changed. SLIDHGL ISH LSIN;FG!!!!! WHYYYYYYY!!!!
So anyway, does anyone know how to hunt down that Dr. Murray that *ahem* used to see Michael Jackson? Should I call the FBI I wonder? Just bring your prescription pad Mr. Doctor, that is the most important thing. Better break out a fresh one.
In a few weeks we have my favorite time of year. The annual visit to the in- laws in New Mexico. Ahhhhh. Total saturation.
As a refresher, for anyone who was not here last year or has their own life and has not memorized mine, here is a post from the visit. And another.
I call it the Great Land of Undiagnosed Aspergers with all due respect. We are talking nuclear physicists here people. Seriously, real ones. 40 and 50 years ago people were not diagnosed with Aspergers but that does not mean it did not exist. I think it is amazing to turn what would be considered a disability into an enjoyable and profitable life long career.
I will visit yarn stores and the Coach outlet. I will be taking my girls back to the Sanctuario de Chimayo as it has become obvious they need a fresh trip to the Holy Dirt. Maybe I will have them jump in the hole this time and wiggle around some. These are the things that will be fun and -or interesting for me. That leaves approximately 142 other hours to fill with close up in- law fun.
If I may, I would just like to complain once again that back when we were child-free, NO ONE cared about The Husband and I and we were free to live our lives as we pleased. No one especially cared to see us, visit us, or have us visit them. That has all changed. SLIDHGL ISH LSIN;FG!!!!! WHYYYYYYY!!!!
So anyway, does anyone know how to hunt down that Dr. Murray that *ahem* used to see Michael Jackson? Should I call the FBI I wonder? Just bring your prescription pad Mr. Doctor, that is the most important thing. Better break out a fresh one.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Just for reference
When Genea started school last year, I had no debate with myself as to what I would tell her teacher, if anything. There was nothing to debate. If Genea was going to make it through the door, the teacher had to know where she was coming from in all ways. I wrote up pages of background (although at the time she was still on the medic alert bracelet so there was a lot of that to describe). I met with the teacher at least twice, maybe more, before school started. I brought Genea to school and let her roam around the classroom until she was done, with the teachers permission and participation. Daddy and Teena came to school with Genea and I and we all 4 roamed around the school until Genea felt she was done. A lot of preparation. Mostly, in retrospect, aside from making Genea as comfortable as would be possible, I wanted the teacher to know she was different. She doesn't look different and in a lot of ways you might not realize something was different until you had spent some time with her. I did not want to have the teacher wasting any time wondering what might be different. She needed to know everything she needed to know in order to teach Genea. From the "Mom" perspective, I wanted the teacher to know Genea is not just being a brat if she stares at you blistering your eyeballs instead of answering your question. If she screams so loud other classes think the fire alarm has gone off and barricades herself under a desk blocking you with a chair, it might look like it is because she is not getting her way. It is not. It is because her brain perceives an emergency where no one else would. So please don't yell at her and please don't get harsh with her. Please just be gentle and give her some help and tell her it is okay (because she may be big but she is my baby that I didn't get to have as a baby!).
When Genea started first grade, things were much improved. So much, that I wondered if I should even talk to the teacher at all! But then I thought, well, I might be a little overconfident here. I might be seeing things through my Mom- eyes instead of reality- eyes. I decided to send the teacher an email and then I decided to share it here. It is always a struggle for me to decide what I should tell anyone about Genea's background. If it
is anyone elses business or not. But I guess I think of teachers in the same way as doctors, they need to know it all. Or at least most of it, in order to do their job. So here is the email.
Dear Ms S,
When Genea started first grade, things were much improved. So much, that I wondered if I should even talk to the teacher at all! But then I thought, well, I might be a little overconfident here. I might be seeing things through my Mom- eyes instead of reality- eyes. I decided to send the teacher an email and then I decided to share it here. It is always a struggle for me to decide what I should tell anyone about Genea's background. If it
is anyone elses business or not. But I guess I think of teachers in the same way as doctors, they need to know it all. Or at least most of it, in order to do their job. So here is the email.
Dear Ms S,
When we met the other day I mentioned I wanted to tell you a few things about Genea and did not want to do it in front of her, or all the other parents. Genea comes from Ukraine. She was adopted from an orphanage there when she was 15 months old by another family. She had a lot of medical and emotional needs that the other family was unable to handle, so they terminated their parental rights and my family adopted her 2 years ago. Obviously all this caused her huge trauma, and we are just now at a point where she has begun to recover. So I just wanted to let you know that bit of background. Genea might have reactions that seem strange, or disproportionate to the situations. She struggles with social skills, though that has improved. Mrs. E thought it would be important for you to know that she has a hard time concentrating and gets distracted very, very easily. I don't remember exactly what Mrs. E used, I am sure you could ask her, but she would separate Genea and try to minimize the distractions in order that Genea could get her work done. Although it looks like she has a raging case of ADHD, it is actually something called "hypervigilance". She constantly monitors her environment for changes, sounds, people, and activity.
Genea is a smart child and she is helpful and considerate. She is a loving, wonderful girl, and is trying so, so hard to overcome her challenges. She adores school and for the most part will appear just like all the other kids. She has some sensory involvement, you might notice if you touch her arm she will rub it when you look away. Her speech pattern is a continued concern for me and if you could direct me to who I might bring those issues up with I would appreciate it. After classes get going that is, I am positive you are heinously busy right now!Anyway, if you have any questions or are interested in more information, please feel free to let me know. Thank you so much.
As it turned out for kindergarten there could not have been a better teacher. She loved her job and all the kids. She was gentle and loving and enthusiastic. Structured and scheduled. She knew how to ease transitions, teach to all the different learning styles and how to be firm. Brilliant! I want Teena to have her to!
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