We had a terrible hail storm the other night. You could see it coming, but when it hit, it hit hard and fast! There was a lot of destruction, with holes and dents left all over. Many will be seeking professional help to repair the holes and dents, some they may not even know are there. Then it rained. It, too, was hard at first. Pouring down in sheets, then slowly, slowly lightening up, becoming a drizzle and then fading away. The sun broke out from behind the clouds, like a miracle, and there, right in front of our house was the most amazing double rainbow. Although there were leaves strewn from one end of town to the other, drifts of hail in driveways and gutters and a few small lakes where the water didn't drain well, everything smelled so fresh and looked so clean.
Mr. has brought in storms, ones we could see coming, but were still surprised at how hard and fast they hit and how destructive they were. We have had to repair many, many holes and dents, both physically in our home, but also mentally and emotionally in our psyches. We've had to seek the help of others to repair some of the damage to the smaller members of the family, where the damage wasn't as easy to see and get at.
The pouring rain felt like it would never end, drenching all of us and making it hard to slog through the mud. And when it started to lighten up, it took awhile to notice, because it happened so slowly. But, the sun has started to peak and feels miraculous. So, here we are sweeping up the leaves, shoveling away the drifts and clearing the drains. But everything is looking and smelling so fresh and clean, and of course, there's a huge, beautiful double rainbow.
Thank you for all the prayers and words of encouragement you have blessed us with through this destructive storm season. I wanted to let you all know, the sun is shining at last. And there just might be a pot of gold at the end of this rainbow.
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
On my knees and holding
So, as I started taking a look at what was really going on, how it was affecting my other children, my marriage, and even our home, I began to realize that something had to be done. We started with a counselor. We got lots of tips and techniques, ideas on how, when, why and for how long to punish, reward, interact, react, ignore behaviors. It was an exhausting summer with an end result of us not being any further along and my sweet sweet boy still running the house.
You see, as an aside, he is our 2nd child. Our first child listened to us, didn't need too many punishments and seemed to learn after one go around of a consequence. He would negotiate out of a longer punishment and, at times, we would allow him to since he seemed to "get" it.
So, back to Mr. Second Child. He loves loves loves to negotiate, in fact everything with him is a negotiation. The word "no" is simply not a word he can accept. When it finally came down to him saying he wanted to die and that it would have been better if he had never been born, I decided to take him to the Emergency Room and have him evaluated. It was THE MOST heart wrenching thing I have ever had to do. My son would go from begging me to just take him home to yelling and swearing at me and telling me to just go away.
The worst sight I have had to endure was my son being wheeled away to the Psychiatric Center for an overnight stay. I took the next day off of work, which incredibly, considering where I was working, my employers were very unkind and not understanding at all about. I had no idea what we were supposed to do, what our next steps were...so I went and sat in the waiting room of the Psych Center until my husband got there and we could see an administrator.
Once we got in and were told about the night our son had had (defiant, argumentative, oppositional) we were asked why we hadn't sought help long before this considering the mental history we gave. Being looked at like, "how did you NOT see that this kid needed help" was the first (maybe second or third) humbling experience we were going to face in the next 18 months.
Being told, when I finally got to see my boy, that this was all my fault, that I had ruined his life and that he didn't want me to call or come by during any of the visiting hours available was horrible. (makes me cry even now). The decision was made that my child needed to be closely observed, have some med changes done and be in intensive therapy for a week. He wouldn't let us come see him, then he would call and cry, begging for us to come and take him home.
The sad part was, our home was so much quieter and more peaceful the week he was gone. It was like all the tension had gone out of the place. Having him gone was hard on my daughter though, she was relieved that he was gone (she's one of his favorite targets...still is) but felt sorry for him. She drew him pictures or printed off his favorite football pictures everyday.
At the end of the week, we decided that he still needed more help than a weekly counseling appointment. We looked at group homes, institutional care, and hospitalization. Knowing what I knew about group homes I did not want him going there, but my husband was not willing to let him back in the house unless something was being done. So, we decided on a partial program. That is where he would go to school, individual counseling and group counseling at the psych center everyday, but he could still live at home on nights and weekends.
For the next 4 months our son got dropped off at the Psych Center every morning and was brought home every afternoon by bus. It was enlightening, a bit of relief to know he really did need the help, terrible because he told us daily that we had "put him in hell" and that "his life was ruined" and a growth opportunity for both my prayer life and my marriage.
We learned alot about sticking together as a couple, not allowing him to split us, and also how to stick by our consequences not matter how far we had to go. This led to more ER evaluation visits, the police coming to our home 3 times, the sheriff coming to my parents' home, as well as a myriad of other experiences I would not ever wish on anyone.
You see, as an aside, he is our 2nd child. Our first child listened to us, didn't need too many punishments and seemed to learn after one go around of a consequence. He would negotiate out of a longer punishment and, at times, we would allow him to since he seemed to "get" it.
So, back to Mr. Second Child. He loves loves loves to negotiate, in fact everything with him is a negotiation. The word "no" is simply not a word he can accept. When it finally came down to him saying he wanted to die and that it would have been better if he had never been born, I decided to take him to the Emergency Room and have him evaluated. It was THE MOST heart wrenching thing I have ever had to do. My son would go from begging me to just take him home to yelling and swearing at me and telling me to just go away.
The worst sight I have had to endure was my son being wheeled away to the Psychiatric Center for an overnight stay. I took the next day off of work, which incredibly, considering where I was working, my employers were very unkind and not understanding at all about. I had no idea what we were supposed to do, what our next steps were...so I went and sat in the waiting room of the Psych Center until my husband got there and we could see an administrator.
Once we got in and were told about the night our son had had (defiant, argumentative, oppositional) we were asked why we hadn't sought help long before this considering the mental history we gave. Being looked at like, "how did you NOT see that this kid needed help" was the first (maybe second or third) humbling experience we were going to face in the next 18 months.
Being told, when I finally got to see my boy, that this was all my fault, that I had ruined his life and that he didn't want me to call or come by during any of the visiting hours available was horrible. (makes me cry even now). The decision was made that my child needed to be closely observed, have some med changes done and be in intensive therapy for a week. He wouldn't let us come see him, then he would call and cry, begging for us to come and take him home.
The sad part was, our home was so much quieter and more peaceful the week he was gone. It was like all the tension had gone out of the place. Having him gone was hard on my daughter though, she was relieved that he was gone (she's one of his favorite targets...still is) but felt sorry for him. She drew him pictures or printed off his favorite football pictures everyday.
At the end of the week, we decided that he still needed more help than a weekly counseling appointment. We looked at group homes, institutional care, and hospitalization. Knowing what I knew about group homes I did not want him going there, but my husband was not willing to let him back in the house unless something was being done. So, we decided on a partial program. That is where he would go to school, individual counseling and group counseling at the psych center everyday, but he could still live at home on nights and weekends.
For the next 4 months our son got dropped off at the Psych Center every morning and was brought home every afternoon by bus. It was enlightening, a bit of relief to know he really did need the help, terrible because he told us daily that we had "put him in hell" and that "his life was ruined" and a growth opportunity for both my prayer life and my marriage.
We learned alot about sticking together as a couple, not allowing him to split us, and also how to stick by our consequences not matter how far we had to go. This led to more ER evaluation visits, the police coming to our home 3 times, the sheriff coming to my parents' home, as well as a myriad of other experiences I would not ever wish on anyone.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Knocked to my knees
About a year ago my life changed in ways I couldn't have imagined. Actually, that's not true, it started to change about 11 years before, but I just went on my merry way and tried to "bob and weave" my way through. See, I am a teacher and a trained parenting group facilitator. For years I have been busy deciding what the parents of this child or that child must be like solely based on the behavior of the child. I sat in groups once, twice, and for awhile, even 3 times a week helping other parents with tips and suggestions on how to better parent their children. Yet, at home, I had a child who was running the house (the biggest "no-no" out there). He was manipulative, angry, violent, and much better equipped to "wait it out" than I could possibly be. I wish I could say that the first time he said he wanted to die I rushed him to a counselor, or that the first time he kicked a hole in the wall or ran out the door screaming that I was going to beat him, I realized how out of my league I was. But, I can't. I mean, here I am a "certified parenting expert" and teacher. I KNEW how to handle kids and I had all the tools at my disposal to work with my own child at home. Nobody needed to know what it was really like inside the 4 walls of our house. Then I started a new adventure...
I was hired as a one-on-one aide for a young man who lived in a group home and went to a therapeutic school. He was big, on the autistic spectrum and much too wise about the ways of the "system". As I started working with this young man and began observing the other young men in his group home and also in his class, I was knocked out by the realization that my son had many of the same behaviors, attitudes, and problems that these boys had, and they HAD BEEN REMOVED FROM THEIR HOMES. What a shock! I began to look more seriously at what was going on at home, and really starting thinking about the trauma and, at times, danger my other children were in. A pattern soon emerged that was both disturbing and enlightening. The pattern went something like this, my child would want to do something, I would say no and my child would then begin to throw a tantrum the likes of which no one should ever have to witness. The part that was enlightening was the part where I didn't have to try to do this on my own, I didn't have to hide what was going on in my own house and there is help out there for parents of children like mine. Yet, it still took several weeks before I would take a step in the direction of help.
I was hired as a one-on-one aide for a young man who lived in a group home and went to a therapeutic school. He was big, on the autistic spectrum and much too wise about the ways of the "system". As I started working with this young man and began observing the other young men in his group home and also in his class, I was knocked out by the realization that my son had many of the same behaviors, attitudes, and problems that these boys had, and they HAD BEEN REMOVED FROM THEIR HOMES. What a shock! I began to look more seriously at what was going on at home, and really starting thinking about the trauma and, at times, danger my other children were in. A pattern soon emerged that was both disturbing and enlightening. The pattern went something like this, my child would want to do something, I would say no and my child would then begin to throw a tantrum the likes of which no one should ever have to witness. The part that was enlightening was the part where I didn't have to try to do this on my own, I didn't have to hide what was going on in my own house and there is help out there for parents of children like mine. Yet, it still took several weeks before I would take a step in the direction of help.
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