What a difference a year (and a half) makes....

Today I was prompted to look at my blog.... I have not since my last post. I have been considering coming back to the "blogisphere" for the past few weeks for a few reasons, one because I have several blogs that I enjoy and would hate if they just stopped, and two because we recently (very recently) and quickly have been launched back into the foster system, reeled in by a 16 yo queer identified (although very boy crazy) young woman needing immediate placement.... but that I can get into later....

I like to the leave the past behind me... always have.... not sure why I have always struggled to keep former relationships and experiences with me, I contribute it to a fairly "sweep unhappiness under the rug and move forward" upbringing, but who knows.... anyway I recieved and email from an old friend today that prompted me to look.... she and I began emailing a few months ago after many years of not being in contact, and I (clearly in a vulnerable moment) talked about our experience with little man, and how it left me feeling. Her response came today, and here I am....

What did I do for a year and a half? Therapy.... lots and lots of therapy.... I keep wondering when I am going to get my certificate of healing and call an end to the weekly hour long toy-with-my-emotions session in which I try to be honest and raw, but ultimately leave feeling like I really did not get very far. Do you know that I have never cried in therapy? NEVER! Kind of strange right? It has done me some good though, I now understand more about PTSD, which I have since fully accepted I have... I have been learning how to manage and "feel" the flashbacks (of which were once 50 or so times a day and have diminished to about 50 a week) versus just put them out of my head, which was getting me nowhere... I am also constantly amazed at how angry I get at little man now.... now that he is far away.... I get so angry.... I wonder why I did not just smack the crap out of him, or pinch him, or spit back on him.... I think we clearly know the reasons why I didn't, but that is how I feel almost all of the time now when he comes to mind.... and flashbacks are so strange.... from a noise while driving down the street to a visit from our niece I can never predict what will set them off.... and I can't predict how them make me feel.... I can only predict that they will continue to happen, for however long.... and that they will likely continue to diminish, and maybe one day I will in fact graduate from therapy.... heres to hoping, right?

So we have seen little man exactly 3 times since he was removed from our house. The first was about a month or so later we did a quick 1/2 hour ice-cream meeting just to let him know we were still in his life. A few months later we did another one, and found that for me it was a little more than we had planned for. I wanted at the time to be able to just move on, but the flashbacks and nightmares (did I mention nightmares? oh yeah there were those too) were getting so much worse that we decided to not only put our relationship with him on hold for a while but we also closed our file with our agency and put to rest the idea of doing "emergency temporary placement" work with our local DCF (after much advice on how emergency placements often become long term and we decided we did not want that). I started my own Pampered Chef business and mom and I began settling into a new life, one without kids, and frankly without much direction. Generally I don't mind ambiguity, but when it comes to life plans I like to know exactly what to expect, and clearly that has proven to be completely impossible. Instead we are working at taking life "one day at a time" and seeing where the tides take us...

Last March we learned that just because you close a file with your agency doesn't mean you are "out of sight and out of mind" because we got a call from our former case worker. A girl we had met several times through work with our agency was now 19 and formally adopted, but was in need of a "transitional location" while she transferred from one college to another (her adoptive family lives in the bfe center of Vermont). She was no longer a foster child, but was working with a local organization who helps "launch" young adults into their lives and needed a place to live for a few months. We opted to bring her into our home and found that while it was not a bad experience, it was also not a great one, and not one that we really want to do again. It was much more like having a roommate than a child (mind you, a roommate who does not pick up after herself very well) and frankly we did not see much of her as she worked a lot and was attending the local community college. That being said we nudged her out of the nest at the end of the summer and she is currently enrolled at a small college down in southern Vermont.

Near the end of the summer I answered my cell phone to find our agency at the other end (mom says I should not answer when I don't know who it is but I just can't help myself! I think it comes from the time of hoping it may be Ed McMahon on the line offering me millions!). He was calling for a couple of reasons.... one to check in on 19 year old... she is doing fine, going to have to push her out of the nest though.... second was to say that little man was asking about us and would we be willing to get an ice-cream together.... probably, would have to clear it with mom but doubtful there would be an issue.... and third (notice they drop the big bomb last) they had a teenage girl that needs a home and they think we would be the perfect placement! That kind of stopped me in my tracks.... I told them we were leaving the next morning for a week long vacation, and I would talk to mom and email him when we got back.... that I thought we would probably be willing to at least sit down and hear more, but I had not predictions beyond that. He said "great" and we agree to talk later.

The next day on the airplane headed for the sunny south I recalled our conversation.... I turned to mom and gave her the quick updates, then went in for the kill..... "they have a girl they think we would be perfect for!"..... "of course they do, they know you respond really well to feedback like that".... "but she is 16 and a girl would be really different..."..... "do you really think you are ready for that? Do you really think we are ready for that? Our lives have just started to feel normal again".... "but don't you think it is worth sitting down and learning more?".... "well you know I would be willing to learn more, but I really think the answer will be no.... I can't see you go through that again, we are in a good place now".....

All week long I went back and forth in my mind.... am I ready? Am I crazy? I found that I was ultimately so confused that I did not email when I returned.... I kept meaning to, but I did not know what to say.... so I would do it soon.... I would.....

Well that went on for 3 WEEKS! Ultimately I got an email from our agency saying that he understood if the answer was "no", but they needed to know one way or the other so they could move forward. Now, those of you who don't know me need to know that I get SO EMBARRASSED when I am a slacker about things like responding to email. I was so caught off guard by this I immediately responded with way too much information about how I was confused and I did not know what to do so I did nothing, and while mom had agreed to sit down and learn more I really thought the answer would be "no" so I did not want anyone to get their hopes up. With that said we set a date to sit down and learn more....

Don't know how to feel.....

So on Monday we met with the team and determined how the "change over" would happen. We had a therapy appointment with him on Tuesday and decided to tell him there, and people would be in place to take him to his next placement. Our therapist predicted that he would not have a negitive reaction, and in fact would act like he did not care about the news, and she really nailed that one the head.
I can't tell you what was going through my mind because there was so much, scared, sad, depressed.... pretty much Mom took the lead and explained that we cannot be the parents he needs and that there were many people in his life to help him find the parents that will help him be the best he can be. He had very little reaction other than to clarify what we were telling him, and act like he did not care. His only real comment was to look in the mirror at himself and say "oh, I am handsome, except for these freckles... they are ugly". He then asked if he could go and went down the hallway saying "hey, did you guys hear? I can't live with C and C anymore".... we then had the therapist come out to our car and take the couple of bags we had packed for him, with about a weeks worth of clothing and a few comfort items. The rest of his stuff will be packed and transferred at a time to be determined.
Mom and I talked later about the freckle comment... that we read it as a dig on me, since he and I had a thing about freckles, and when I would give him kisses it was me giving him more freckles...
We spent the rest of the night drinking... certainly helped me sleep, but gave me a wicked headache all day yesterday. We both took yesterday off of work, we had scheduled that anyway for a training, and thought it was ideal to still take it and just "be". We took a day trip and ate dinner out, but ultimately had a hell of an argument when Mom asked me if I was "sensitive"... she did not like hearing that I felt like I would be for a while, and when she said that I "needed to be someone she could live with" I basically flew off the handle and told her that I could not guarantee how I would be. And I can't! I don't want to worry about "being a tolorable person" right now.... I just want to know how to get myself through each hour... especially since very few people in my life know.... and I feel like I am walking through a mine field... I don't know when to expect an explosion, and am carefully navigating each word and step, for fear that someone might catch me off guard with a comment I can't handle. Already dodged one this morning when a coworker acknowledged how crazy things have been at my house lately with little man.... a nod and a change of subject helped there, but it won't always.....
So my sister told me I should keep blogging even though I am in this bad space, and now you have all been exposed to a lot of my shit.... I appologize for that, but you can blame her... that is for you Lu! ;)
So, any idea how to change the title of a blog? Seems wrong to keep this title and keep blogging... maybe I don't keep blogging.... who knows?

I guess every well runs dry.... eventually....

So mom and I had a couple of very interesting meetings this week. Basically we were very clear with our team that we were teetering on the edge, and that our last hope was this possible resource of the "in home support person". It was made clear then that if that did come through, it would only be for a very short period of time. The next day I got a message from our agency that we could not have a few of the other resources that had been discussed, because we currently are using so many resources. That afternoon we had a meeting where it basically was talked about that we might not be the family that can meet all of little man's needs. While this sort of felt like a blow, it also felt very true. Frankly, the "well" of resources from our agency are tapped, and if we can't make it work with all of this, something else needs to happen because we can't meet his needs.

The next day (yesterday) we met with our family therapist, and while nothing is set in stone as of yet, we more-or-less made the decision to move forward on a plan to remove him from our home. My guess is we will meet with the team on Monday, and by the end of the week the plan will be in place, and he may even be removed by then.

First and foremost, this was my worst nightmare. I never wanted to even bring a child in who I was not positive would be there forever. I guess we can't predict the future.

I also thought that if we ever made this decision we would feel completely confident in the decision, and what sucks is we are still both so confused. I am much more sad than mom I think, but she has really already accepted that this was coming. We kind of had to agree to no longer question it, because it is not only our choice, it is the choice of a lot of people who think he needs more than we can give, and because we will drive ourselves crazy if we keep "what if-ing" everything.

One thing is clear, we will never work towards permanency again with any child. We plan to request that we remain members of little man's life in whatever ways are deemed appropriate, but who knows what that will look like.

The worst part for me in this is that thought of having to tell him. It will happen in therapy, so we will have support, but I can't even think about that right now... it seems so awful.

I think this will always be for me my greatest failure.

Hope? Where are you?

I can't put my finger on it, but I feel like I am at the bottom right now. Between Mom and I, it was always me that at least held out hope that things would get better. The past several days I have totally lost that. I don't know where it went, but I am just sitting at the bottom of what feels like a pit without any hope.
Maybe it is because this is a long weekend.... I used to look forward to having the day off work, now I dread it. I dread it because I know that it will mean juggling emotions, constantly correcting, and probably having to manage an escalation. It totally sucks that I would rather be at work than at home with my family.
It sucks that I LIVE for respite weekends.... the only good thing about a non-respite weekend is that the next weekend IS a respite weekend. Where is my hope?
I can't even say that anything NEW or WORSE has happened in the last several days to make it go away, it just did.... is it that there is only so much and it dried up? Is it not a renewable resource? Is it me and not little man? I think it is possible that I am experiencing a depression that I have not in a while (sadly, not new to depression, but have managed it well for a long time now).
Every little thing is a fight. Currently we are fighting (by currently I mean as I write this) about what is and what is not his routine. Earlier we fought over whether Look-it was one word or two... everything is a fight... everything.... there was a time when I thought I was prepared for this, thought I could handle it, for some reason i don't feel that way anymore.
On the other hand I feel like if we can't make it work with little man we have contributed to the ruining of his life. How do we do that? I have never felt more like I was between a rock and a hard place than I do now. I feel like there is no way to turn.
We are still waiting to see if funding for the "in home family consultant" will go through, we should know more tomorrow.... I have to tell you, I think if it does not come through we might have to seriously consider other options for little man, because we are trying everything we have and it is not working.
Miserable. That is how I feel right now. Miserable and hopeless....

Testing....

I find it tough to blog on days like today, where the week has not been extreme at all, neither bad, nor good. Little man went to respite last weekend, which was a MUCH needed rest for Mom and I, and generally after that I am pretty set to go for another few rounds. He has been testing every single limit that he can though, more so with Mom than with me. He has gotten to where he sets up situations that he thinks will bug her, such as jumping around the kitchen while she is getting breakfast together, fists clenched, stating things like "you want to mess with me do ya? You want to mess with me?". Acting like a big tough boy is a definite coping mechanism for him. Generally mom just ignores it, but usually has to vent afterwards.
This morning I said something to him (can't remember what, it was insignificant) and his response was "you just be quiet".... now, in the household I grew up in that type of response would land you a backhand across various body parts, but I chose to go with "excuse me? that is not a respectful way to speak to me". He then went on to "lecture" me on how if I don't respect him then he won't respect me... etc. Of course I asked how he felt disrespected by my, and the answer was because I tell him to do stuff.... *sigh*.....

So I met with our family therapist alone last week (mom got held up at work) and she talked with me about an idea that a group of them have come up with. Basically it would involve our agency employing a full time staff member (PhD level, no less) to be our "in home support counselor". This would be a person that would literally, for a while at least, be in our home whenever little man is there and awake, coaching us on the ins and outs of working with him. He would help us with responses, help little man understand things that are tough, etc. Fortunately the person they are thinking of we know, he was an intern in our family therapy for a while, and Mom really likes him (I do too, but she REALLY connected with him). I can't help but think how weird the whole thing will be, but I also know we have to give every possible resource a shot. The most fascinating thing to me though, is that this has NEVER been done in Vermont as far as anyone knows, and can only happen because our agency has access to the necessary resources. It also points out to me not only the severity of our case, but the investment of folks around us to make it work.... that makes me feel good overall. I wonder what the Super Nanny would say if she were to come live with us for a while?
So here's to possibilities, and trying every possible option....

Tough Momma

So growing up my family was never one to really make a big deal out of injurys. I mean, I have two sisters and between the three of us very little happened as far as injury, but none-the-less a skinned knee or sprained wrist got no more then the minimal amount of attention. Even on days we were sick the general rule was "go to school, if you are that sick they will send you home".... because of this as an adult I have never been one to dwell on injurys, pains, illnesses, etc. My wife, however.... the opposite. She needs significant attention paid to every boo-boo, and heaven help if she is sick.... you basically are best to just say far, far away.

Anyway, this relates to my blog becuase parenting little man has not only challenged my patience and nerves, but I have also sustained more injuries in the 6 months he has been with us then my entire adult life. The past month, when we have had to start restraining him when he is out of control is really where these have happened. The significant scratches, pinches and bruises to my arms and legs have been, while annoying, pretty easy for me to overlook. I have an extremely high tolarance for pain and I don't believe that while he is being restrained he is in enough control of his body to understand what he is doing. Also, these things have been either small enough to not notice or easy to hide, so I had very little need to share this type of thing with people in my everyday life.... until this weekend that is.....

Following a new restraint position that I quickly realized did not work when I got a severe head-butt to my upper cheek I noticed something out of my left eye.... I asked Mom, "is there something on my face?" (mind you, all the while holding little man down and waiting for the police to arrive). Her face turned white and she said "oh my god little man, you have done it now! Momma has a big black eye!". Soon the police arrived and after refusing the need to be "checked out" by medical folks, I just waited for the swelling to stop and the bruising to begin.... and begin it did! I currently and sporting quite a shiner, and even two days later cannot cover it up with make-up. You can imagine that my business is now pretty out there, because when you are wearing something like this on your face, people ask questions....

Ultimately the black eye is not really that big of a deal to me.... but what I have noticed more than ever before is how big a deal it is to everyone else. This has made me realize that it really is pretty screwed up to be getting these types of injuries on a regular basis, whether it is on my leg or on my face. I feel like I am starting to lose hope, and that loss is coming with recognizing this is not something I can keep to myself, it is not a bruise I can cover up and hide (although I did consider Paris Hilton sunglasses and/or a veil, both of which I figured would get more attention than the actual eye).

Mom appears to me to be totally done. I am afraid she is hanging on because of me, and the fact that I am not done. I have also been amazed at how hard it is for her to see my face like this... I mean, while it is my face I don't really look at myself that often (contrary to popular demand ;) ).
Anyway, I am feeling much less hope today. Of course, the benefit of taking things one day at a time is that tomorrow might be different, if we can make it till then......

knock on wood

So in thinking about what I want to write about today, it is a little challenging because I am not feeling any major trauma at the moment! Yeah for that! Knock on wood! We had a fairly rough weekend, but most of that was to be expected and since Monday (when school was back in session from the week break) we have been having a very smooth time... I really believe that the smallest change can really send little man reeling.... and school provides a good amount of predictable structure....

I thought I would take my sister's idea and post some things about little man that make me smile.... or laugh.... so here goes.....

His hands.... I swear his hands are like meatballs with vienna sausages as fingers.... seriously... picture a meatball with 5 vienna sausages sticking out and those are his hands.... really makes me laugh....

He has started making fun of the way we walk, which is ridiculous if you know Mom and I, cause we are COMPLETELY different, but we recently learned it is not OUR walk, but a "girls" walk he is making fun of... basically it involves him walking and swinging his hips, which is only topped in hilarity when he puts his meatball hands on his hips when he does it.....

He talks in his sleep.... like, a lot.... we will hear him just babbling on in there to whoever, whatever..... he also moves a good bit.... I have witnessed him many times reach out for something in front of him in his sleep, and the meatball will just hang out in the air for a while until it gradually works its way back down to the bed....

He is a good eater, and pretty much eats and likes anything we make (assuming he is not just generally grumpy that day). I ask him "how is it?" and usually becuase his mouth is very full I just get a little vienna sausage thumbs up. He helped me make jam last weekend (raspberry mango) and now he is obsessed with it. Who knew that a few spoonfuls of jam and some ritz crackers made a great dessert? He did!

He says "lookit" ALL the time... like 400 times a day.... "mom lookit", "lookit at this", "lookit momma".... really it makes me a little crazy but it is kind of funny.... especially annoying and funny when we are in the car and he keeps saying "lookit" and I am driving and he is in the back seat!

He has some funny and strange things he has said, for example last weekend I noticed he had some bug bites on his arm. I said "wow, you have some bugbites", and he said "they are not bugbites". I said "okay, wow, you have some bumps" and he said "they are not bumps". I said "well, what are they?" and he said "it is a disease, it is called allergies"..... thats a head-scratcher if I ever heard one.....

So, for today only good things... I will have to take notes on other funny things he says and does... cause really he is a special little guy, he just makes us crazy sometimes....

As always, one day at a time!