Yesterday, DD changed clothes for me. I am thrilled!
OK, that may not sound like much, but here's the deal. We are leaving for a trip today, and I had told the kids yesterday not to wear any of their "nice" stuff because there wouldn't be time to wash it before we leave. DD, of course, came down in her newest "skort," and when I asked about it, she said she didn't want to take it on the trip. Of course she had to argue when I called it a skirt ("It's a skort, Mom!" - like that's the relevant part of the conversation), but when I asked her to change into something older, and explained that I did want to take it, she did just what I asked - no arguing, no yelling, no bawling, no door slamming, no muttering, no stomping (well, maybe a few heavy footfalls) - but she did it, and quickly!!!!
Not long ago, this would have been a setting for a full-blown rage - anguished howls, yelling about not getting to wear what she wanted, not having anything else good to wear, me not loving her, her hating her life, etc. It would have wound me up, taken time we didn't have, and thrown our morning into a tailspin. It's a small victory, and maybe a temporary one, but a victory nonetheless ;-)
Friday, June 27, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Thanks for being...ummm...helpful honey!
So tonight I was out gardening after dark (What? You mean everyone doesn't garden by porch light at 10:30 at night? You do when you work full time and have 2 kids and no daylight freetime, and the plants you bought are about to die!) I went to the yard waste bin to drop something in and noticed some plants. Some fresh plants. Some all too familiar plants....
"Honey, could you come here please?"
"Yes?"
"Did you by any chance do some weeding today?"
"Uh oh....I thought I would be helpful"
"So did you do some weeding today?"
"They were tall and ugly, so I pulled them out."
"Where were you weeding?" (there is no shortage of "safe" locations to pull weeds)
"I was trying to be helpful?"
"Where, honey?"
"In the bed by the rocks" (our house and driveway are surrounded by rocks)
"That doesn't help me. Which one?"
"The one the front with your flowers. I just pulled out the tall, ugly ones."
"The tall ones? Those would be my tiger lilies...."
"Ummm... sorry! I was trying to help"
"I can't believe you pulled out my tiger lilies... sigh....please don't 'help' in my flower beds anymore."
"You're going to put this in your blog, aren't you?"
Why yes I am honey... yes indeed I am!
"Honey, could you come here please?"
"Yes?"
"Did you by any chance do some weeding today?"
"Uh oh....I thought I would be helpful"
"So did you do some weeding today?"
"They were tall and ugly, so I pulled them out."
"Where were you weeding?" (there is no shortage of "safe" locations to pull weeds)
"I was trying to be helpful?"
"Where, honey?"
"In the bed by the rocks" (our house and driveway are surrounded by rocks)
"That doesn't help me. Which one?"
"The one the front with your flowers. I just pulled out the tall, ugly ones."
"The tall ones? Those would be my tiger lilies...."
"Ummm... sorry! I was trying to help"
"I can't believe you pulled out my tiger lilies... sigh....please don't 'help' in my flower beds anymore."
"You're going to put this in your blog, aren't you?"
Why yes I am honey... yes indeed I am!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
It's Finally Summer!
Forget what the calendar says - the official first day of summer was last night. That was when I saw the first clouds of fireflies in our backyard/prairie. This has to be one of my favorite things about where we live - I could watch those calming, blinking lights for hours!
For a California girl, this is still a novelty. I wanted to see them so badly as a child, but they don't live in that part of the world. I didn't see one until my early 20's (and that one was dead - did you know if you smear a dead one on a dog, the fur will glow?). Now I have a fireworks show in my very own backyard ;-)
For a California girl, this is still a novelty. I wanted to see them so badly as a child, but they don't live in that part of the world. I didn't see one until my early 20's (and that one was dead - did you know if you smear a dead one on a dog, the fur will glow?). Now I have a fireworks show in my very own backyard ;-)
Stealing and Dishonesty
I don't know about anyone else, but these two "features" of FASD are probably the ones which drive me nuts the most. DD is like a magpie, and picks things up all the time. Fortunately, they are mainly no-value items that happen to catch her eye (pencils, paper, art supplies, junk), but sometimes there are better items in the collection. My fear is that later she will graduate to more pricey items, and get into bigger trouble, so we want to nip this in the bud ASAP.
She's pretty sneaky about it, too - there's always a reason, "So-and-so really wanted me to have it," "They were giving them away," and my personal favorite, "I found it." Everything she sees has been "found" - found in people's backpacks, in the lost and found, set down for two seconds by someone nearby. And when I discover these items, asking her where they came from, she lies. It takes several attempts to get the truth, if we get it at all. When she was getting in trouble at home when I found these items, she would give them to the teacher at the end of the day, saying, "I got this for you." When the teachers got wise, she gave things to other students. When the kids started reporting it, she just plain threw things away. We tried telling her that if her name wasn't on it, it wasn't hers.... so she scribbled her name on every stolen item in pen. That followed the rule, right?
We have other kinds of sneaky, too - lots of things snuck to school, and subsequently lost (3 irreplaceable necklaces are gone this way, I believe, never mind a fair amount of money). We find that if the teachers know she can't bring anything from home to school, then they can more easily identify the stolen items. So she tried hiding them in her pockets (which we started checking), then tucked in her waistband (which we started checking), then in her brother's stuff (which we started checking, and he'd tattle anyway). My favorite was the day she had taken a long time up in her room "getting ready" (a big red flag). She came down the stairs and I heard, "step, CHINK, step, CHINK, step...." Hmmm... turns out she had three pennies and a Chuck-E-Cheese token hidden in her sock. And she planned to do what with them?!? She knew enough to try to hide them, but didn't occur to her that meant she shouldn't do it. And don't get me started on the constant lying!
OK, so I know all this is common with FASD. That's the problem - everything I've read says this is common, but offers no solutions on how to deal with it. "Mainstream" parenting books say to ignore it because it's just a phase, but I can't ignore it. Society won't, and the end of that road is not a good one. Never mind the complete loss of trust - everyone at school assumes she is behind every missing item.
We seem to have made progress over the last 4 1/2 years by keeping in constant contact with teachers (including middle of the day e-mails), frequent backpack/pocket checks, not allowing items from home, consistant consequences (in person apologies, loss of privileges, loss of backpack, etc.), and giving teachers the authority they need to say, "no." The teachers/day care personnel have gotten very good about responding with, "Thank you for apologizing" instead of, "That's OK." We realized she would believe that it really was "OK," and we didn't want that to be the message she got. Some might argue with us, but we have always called a spade a spade. It is stealing - we don't use euphemisms - and it is wrong, according to society and our faith. As each new situation comes up, we identify that as stealing, too. It may sound harsh, but I think after she finally gets the message on one scenario, she finds a new one, and we need to help her put that one, too, in the "wrong" category. On her own, she won't make that generalization, so we have to do it for her. We also emphasize that once we've asked for forgiveness, the Lord gives us a clean slate the next day to make better choices. I know some people may not agree with our methods, but they're the best ones we've found through trial and error. We are down from daily+ incidents to once every few weeks, but they still happen.
So why am I ranting about this today? This morning DD was a little too quick to close her jewelry box as I came up the stairs - red flag. Found a little "nothing" fur toy, but knew it wasn't ours. After 1 lie, she admitted that it was taken from a family member whom we had visited recently. Grrr... So she will have to apologize to that person face-to-face in a few days. Then at the end of her field trip, turns out she had spent part of her brother's share of the lunch money to buy herself a treat (leaving not enough for him), and then lied about that, too. Grrr.... It just drives me nuts, and though we have made a ton of progress, my blood just boils!!!
Please tell me I'm not alone in getting frustated by this!
She's pretty sneaky about it, too - there's always a reason, "So-and-so really wanted me to have it," "They were giving them away," and my personal favorite, "I found it." Everything she sees has been "found" - found in people's backpacks, in the lost and found, set down for two seconds by someone nearby. And when I discover these items, asking her where they came from, she lies. It takes several attempts to get the truth, if we get it at all. When she was getting in trouble at home when I found these items, she would give them to the teacher at the end of the day, saying, "I got this for you." When the teachers got wise, she gave things to other students. When the kids started reporting it, she just plain threw things away. We tried telling her that if her name wasn't on it, it wasn't hers.... so she scribbled her name on every stolen item in pen. That followed the rule, right?
We have other kinds of sneaky, too - lots of things snuck to school, and subsequently lost (3 irreplaceable necklaces are gone this way, I believe, never mind a fair amount of money). We find that if the teachers know she can't bring anything from home to school, then they can more easily identify the stolen items. So she tried hiding them in her pockets (which we started checking), then tucked in her waistband (which we started checking), then in her brother's stuff (which we started checking, and he'd tattle anyway). My favorite was the day she had taken a long time up in her room "getting ready" (a big red flag). She came down the stairs and I heard, "step, CHINK, step, CHINK, step...." Hmmm... turns out she had three pennies and a Chuck-E-Cheese token hidden in her sock. And she planned to do what with them?!? She knew enough to try to hide them, but didn't occur to her that meant she shouldn't do it. And don't get me started on the constant lying!
OK, so I know all this is common with FASD. That's the problem - everything I've read says this is common, but offers no solutions on how to deal with it. "Mainstream" parenting books say to ignore it because it's just a phase, but I can't ignore it. Society won't, and the end of that road is not a good one. Never mind the complete loss of trust - everyone at school assumes she is behind every missing item.
We seem to have made progress over the last 4 1/2 years by keeping in constant contact with teachers (including middle of the day e-mails), frequent backpack/pocket checks, not allowing items from home, consistant consequences (in person apologies, loss of privileges, loss of backpack, etc.), and giving teachers the authority they need to say, "no." The teachers/day care personnel have gotten very good about responding with, "Thank you for apologizing" instead of, "That's OK." We realized she would believe that it really was "OK," and we didn't want that to be the message she got. Some might argue with us, but we have always called a spade a spade. It is stealing - we don't use euphemisms - and it is wrong, according to society and our faith. As each new situation comes up, we identify that as stealing, too. It may sound harsh, but I think after she finally gets the message on one scenario, she finds a new one, and we need to help her put that one, too, in the "wrong" category. On her own, she won't make that generalization, so we have to do it for her. We also emphasize that once we've asked for forgiveness, the Lord gives us a clean slate the next day to make better choices. I know some people may not agree with our methods, but they're the best ones we've found through trial and error. We are down from daily+ incidents to once every few weeks, but they still happen.
So why am I ranting about this today? This morning DD was a little too quick to close her jewelry box as I came up the stairs - red flag. Found a little "nothing" fur toy, but knew it wasn't ours. After 1 lie, she admitted that it was taken from a family member whom we had visited recently. Grrr... So she will have to apologize to that person face-to-face in a few days. Then at the end of her field trip, turns out she had spent part of her brother's share of the lunch money to buy herself a treat (leaving not enough for him), and then lied about that, too. Grrr.... It just drives me nuts, and though we have made a ton of progress, my blood just boils!!!
Please tell me I'm not alone in getting frustated by this!
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Ummm...
On the lighter side....
On Saturday we were driving through a nearby town and noticed that the streets were lined with flags, big and small, and that there was a celebration in the park we passed. After a little consideration, we realized it was Flag Day, told the kids, and drove on. On the way home through the same city, we again commented on the Flag Day decorations.
Our daughter, age 11, asked us, "Why do they have flags for Flag Day?"
Ummm.....
On Saturday we were driving through a nearby town and noticed that the streets were lined with flags, big and small, and that there was a celebration in the park we passed. After a little consideration, we realized it was Flag Day, told the kids, and drove on. On the way home through the same city, we again commented on the Flag Day decorations.
Our daughter, age 11, asked us, "Why do they have flags for Flag Day?"
Ummm.....
Healing the Hurting Heart
Be Careful what you wish for - you just might get it. I was thinking earlier today that now that I've started this blog, nothing noteworthy is really happening in our lives. HAH! I should know better. Tonight we had what I hope is the resolution of tensions which have been building for a while.
Our son, 10, has a lot of problems with controlling his anger. When he gets mad, he gets scary mad. It takes hold of him and doesn't let go, and he can mope, pout, stomp, etc. with the best of them. There is such a darkness behind his eyes when gets this way, that I almost don't know what to make of it, and I fear where it will lead someday if he doesn't learn to control it. Lately, everything and anything has set him off, and we've had hours of pouting and stomping over big things (like striking out at the baseball game), and little things (like being told to keep all 4 legs of his stool on the floor.) We've had reports from school of refusing to listen, running off, kicking things, throwing rocks, and he's usually our calm child! We've tried working with him on strategies to break out of these moods, but sometimes it almost seems like he enjoys wallowing in them.
I know something's up - he's a deep thinker, and generally he goes through these rough patches when he reaches new levels of maturity and tries to process his feelings about the past. Our kids were raised mostly by their birth dad, and our son has felt that loss, and the anger, most deeply. I challenged him the other day to see if he could figure out what was at the base of his anger, so we could deal with it, rather than putting out these continuing smaller fires. Tonight, when being confronted with yet another round of issues from Day Camp, the dam finally broke.
I wish I knew how to heel the pain in that heart. He says he's mad at his birth dad, but what he really is is sad and confused. He is trying to reconcile anger and love, sadness and joy, and he doesn't have the words or experience to properly process it all. So we try to help him, and tell him it's OK to have these conflicting emotions, to love his birth dad and be mad at him all the same time, and to love us, too. That his parents would want him to love and be loved. That it's better to let this pain out than to allow it to fester in his heart. And sometimes I wonder if our love is going to be strong enough to conquer the pain. I try to fill him up with our love, the love of God, a sense of purpose and place in the world, and a sense of the blessings that surround and fill our lives. But he is our "glass half empty" child, and it is often a hard sell.
He asked to read the letter from his birth mom (given to them on their last visit with her), and cried his little heart out. I am so torn, between wanting to support him and his love for them, and feeling jealous of that love. But it's not about me, it's about him, and as I reread that letter I thought about how hard it had to have been for her to make the decision to terminate. Realistically, it would have been involuntary if it hadn't been done voluntarily, but still, it was a difficult, loving choice, which avoided a lot of drawn out proceedings. I can't imagine making that choice.
But, at the end of the day, I get to tuck him in and see that gorgeous smile, the one that reaches all the way to his eyes, that is the Lord's precious gift to me. And I know he is going to make an amazing grown up!
Our son, 10, has a lot of problems with controlling his anger. When he gets mad, he gets scary mad. It takes hold of him and doesn't let go, and he can mope, pout, stomp, etc. with the best of them. There is such a darkness behind his eyes when gets this way, that I almost don't know what to make of it, and I fear where it will lead someday if he doesn't learn to control it. Lately, everything and anything has set him off, and we've had hours of pouting and stomping over big things (like striking out at the baseball game), and little things (like being told to keep all 4 legs of his stool on the floor.) We've had reports from school of refusing to listen, running off, kicking things, throwing rocks, and he's usually our calm child! We've tried working with him on strategies to break out of these moods, but sometimes it almost seems like he enjoys wallowing in them.
I know something's up - he's a deep thinker, and generally he goes through these rough patches when he reaches new levels of maturity and tries to process his feelings about the past. Our kids were raised mostly by their birth dad, and our son has felt that loss, and the anger, most deeply. I challenged him the other day to see if he could figure out what was at the base of his anger, so we could deal with it, rather than putting out these continuing smaller fires. Tonight, when being confronted with yet another round of issues from Day Camp, the dam finally broke.
I wish I knew how to heel the pain in that heart. He says he's mad at his birth dad, but what he really is is sad and confused. He is trying to reconcile anger and love, sadness and joy, and he doesn't have the words or experience to properly process it all. So we try to help him, and tell him it's OK to have these conflicting emotions, to love his birth dad and be mad at him all the same time, and to love us, too. That his parents would want him to love and be loved. That it's better to let this pain out than to allow it to fester in his heart. And sometimes I wonder if our love is going to be strong enough to conquer the pain. I try to fill him up with our love, the love of God, a sense of purpose and place in the world, and a sense of the blessings that surround and fill our lives. But he is our "glass half empty" child, and it is often a hard sell.
He asked to read the letter from his birth mom (given to them on their last visit with her), and cried his little heart out. I am so torn, between wanting to support him and his love for them, and feeling jealous of that love. But it's not about me, it's about him, and as I reread that letter I thought about how hard it had to have been for her to make the decision to terminate. Realistically, it would have been involuntary if it hadn't been done voluntarily, but still, it was a difficult, loving choice, which avoided a lot of drawn out proceedings. I can't imagine making that choice.
But, at the end of the day, I get to tuck him in and see that gorgeous smile, the one that reaches all the way to his eyes, that is the Lord's precious gift to me. And I know he is going to make an amazing grown up!
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
A Weed by Any Other Name
I have been spending a lot of time in the garden lately catching up on weeding. Our spring up here was a long time coming, and once it finally arrived, I was out of town more than in it. And so, the lovely prairie land behind our house encroached on the garden with lots of 3 ft. high grass. Therefore, every spare moment when the sun is shining is spent wresting this grass (and its nasty runners) out of the ground. This gives you a lot of time to think.
I started noticing that much of what I was pulling as a "weed" in the garden would be classified as "desirable" elsewhere. The lawn grass had crossed the plastic line we set for it, and settled in to stay. The prairie grass and flowers, which we enjoy seeing out behind our property line, refuse to recognize our sovereignty over this little patch of land. And what makes those volunteer species different than the cheerful little Johnny-jump-ups which have sprung up all over, and which I am not only leaving, but encouraging? It's all about perspective, and crossing the invisible "lines."
This reminds me of several young men, two of whom we know personally, one whom we've learned of through blogging, who are now in jail. If you read the articles which have been written about their crimes, you probably would assume the worst. Poor parenting, stupid choices, incorrigible young men who are getting what they deserve - that's how they're defined right now because they crossed the line. I know I have thought the same thing when reading these types of articles. These are society's "weeds."
But from another perspective, on the other side of the "line," they are not weeds. They are loved, desirable, nurtured. They each have caregivers who put their hearts and souls into parenting them to the best of their ability, and are now suffering as they see the young men they nurtured go down the wrong path. Two of these men we have know since they were 9 years old - it's hard to reconcile our memories of those sweet little boys with the men who now sit in jail. Each of these young men is afflicted with FASD, and burdened with the results of the poor choices they've made. It's easy to forget this, but for every "stupid criminal" article we read (and laugh at), there is probably a family out there wondering what they could have done differently, mourning the loss of their little boy/girl, and hoping that somehow, some way, they will emerge in one piece from the other side of this ordeal.
Anyway, I won't be showing any mercy to the weeds anytime soon - they still bug me. And I firmly believe that everyone should be held accountable for their choices, no matter the excuse. But I think I will look at these news stories a little differently, and try to remember that these, too, are loved children, with families who worry about their future, just as much as I worry about my son and daughter.
I started noticing that much of what I was pulling as a "weed" in the garden would be classified as "desirable" elsewhere. The lawn grass had crossed the plastic line we set for it, and settled in to stay. The prairie grass and flowers, which we enjoy seeing out behind our property line, refuse to recognize our sovereignty over this little patch of land. And what makes those volunteer species different than the cheerful little Johnny-jump-ups which have sprung up all over, and which I am not only leaving, but encouraging? It's all about perspective, and crossing the invisible "lines."
This reminds me of several young men, two of whom we know personally, one whom we've learned of through blogging, who are now in jail. If you read the articles which have been written about their crimes, you probably would assume the worst. Poor parenting, stupid choices, incorrigible young men who are getting what they deserve - that's how they're defined right now because they crossed the line. I know I have thought the same thing when reading these types of articles. These are society's "weeds."
But from another perspective, on the other side of the "line," they are not weeds. They are loved, desirable, nurtured. They each have caregivers who put their hearts and souls into parenting them to the best of their ability, and are now suffering as they see the young men they nurtured go down the wrong path. Two of these men we have know since they were 9 years old - it's hard to reconcile our memories of those sweet little boys with the men who now sit in jail. Each of these young men is afflicted with FASD, and burdened with the results of the poor choices they've made. It's easy to forget this, but for every "stupid criminal" article we read (and laugh at), there is probably a family out there wondering what they could have done differently, mourning the loss of their little boy/girl, and hoping that somehow, some way, they will emerge in one piece from the other side of this ordeal.
Anyway, I won't be showing any mercy to the weeds anytime soon - they still bug me. And I firmly believe that everyone should be held accountable for their choices, no matter the excuse. But I think I will look at these news stories a little differently, and try to remember that these, too, are loved children, with families who worry about their future, just as much as I worry about my son and daughter.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
An FASD Moment
My husband has been involved in Big Brothers/Big Sisters for many years, and we still stay in close contact with his first two "Littles" and their families, even though they have aged out of the program. These two have each had many challenges in their lives, stemming from FASD - one case confirmed, the other suspected. Their choices in life have been marked by impulsivity and poor understanding of consequences (among other things), and Jeff has spent many years trying to help guide them in a better direction.
We heard this story from Little #1's mom yesterday, and it was such a typical FASD moment that we had to laugh (and share)....
Little #1 (age 26) finally had a steady job. He was on his way to work one morning recently, having managed to get himself up and on the way on time (no small accomplishment). Along the way, as he crossed the river he thought, "Hey, fishing!" He immediately turned around, went home, got his fishing gear, and headed for a day of fun, work completely forgotten.
Well, so much for that job....
We heard this story from Little #1's mom yesterday, and it was such a typical FASD moment that we had to laugh (and share)....
Little #1 (age 26) finally had a steady job. He was on his way to work one morning recently, having managed to get himself up and on the way on time (no small accomplishment). Along the way, as he crossed the river he thought, "Hey, fishing!" He immediately turned around, went home, got his fishing gear, and headed for a day of fun, work completely forgotten.
Well, so much for that job....
Let's Start at the Very Beginning...
OK, many of my thoughts end up reminding me of song lyrics - a trait which sometimes amuses, usually annoys my family. So I've been trying to think of what to put in my first post, and the Sound of Music keeps coming into my head - sing with me now - "Let's start at the very beginning, it's a very good place to start..." OK, enough of that!
I've been thinking about starting this blog for a while now, and have been encouraged by both my husband and a few friends. My concern is not that I'll run out of things to say (as my husband will attest, this is not a problem in the slightest), but that I'll run out of things of interest to others. But my main intention is to record some of my experiences and observations before my memory fades (which seems to be happening faster and faster!)
My philosophy is that you can either laugh or cry about the things that happen to you, and I for one, prefer to laugh. Life is full of so many challenges, and I for one have been broken many times, but it is my prayer that, with the Lord's help, I have become stronger in the broken places.
I've been thinking about starting this blog for a while now, and have been encouraged by both my husband and a few friends. My concern is not that I'll run out of things to say (as my husband will attest, this is not a problem in the slightest), but that I'll run out of things of interest to others. But my main intention is to record some of my experiences and observations before my memory fades (which seems to be happening faster and faster!)
My philosophy is that you can either laugh or cry about the things that happen to you, and I for one, prefer to laugh. Life is full of so many challenges, and I for one have been broken many times, but it is my prayer that, with the Lord's help, I have become stronger in the broken places.
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