Are there Aspie kids out there who are not obsessed with Lego? Monster loves his Lego more than anything else in the whole house. And he has a lot of crap to choose between.
He builds odd, totem-pole-like creatures out of heads stacked together and placed on some of a platform. He also like to make the pirates fight the police men.
Monster has a giant box of Lego. And I have bought him him a couple of sets in the past that I built for him and begged him to keep them nice, but they are quickly disassembled and disappear into the giant lego box, never to be seen again. So that's it. No more Lego kits for him. Ever.
Except. There are two I want to get him. The Death Star, which, along with it's unbelievable price tag ($400.00) has so many people and pieces that would disappear within hours of its completion. But I know that these will be discontinued in a couple of years and part of me wants to get it for him and hide it away for years until he actually can take care of it properly. But then i wonder if he will ever reach that point.
The other is an American Indian village that I have been bidding on on Ebay. I decided no, I am not buying this for him, because he won't like it nearly as much as the death star. But the price!!! Holy cow. I think about what $400.00 can buy. I think I should take that money and buy gifts for needy kids. The problem is, I want it too.
I think it's going to have to pass us by. As much as my son loves Lego he doesn't like the idea that you must keep buildings in the same order they were built in. IN his mind, a bilding is a starting-off point, with cool windows and doors and such to be removed and adeed to hiideous totem pole statues he designs for his own pleasure.
I think I will just keep watching for the bargains on ebay for Lego people. He'd be happy if he only had those.
But holy cow that death star is cool!!!!!
Friday, December 19, 2008
Five words
Five words that strike terror in my heart when Monster says them; "look what I did!".
Now most parents would be all excited, "Ohh, Honey!! What did you do?"
I was naive enough at one point to be one of those parents.
But now I know better. "Mama, look what I did!" can mean, 'look at how I flooded the kitchen floor!' or 'Look at how I took a whole bottle of your new shampoo and mixed it in with my goop to have goop shampoo!' 'Look at how I dumped sugar all over the counter to make a "beach" for my lego people to play on!"
He always says it so excitedly, like he can't WAIT to show us his latest destruction. I sometimes wonder if he is intentionally trying to drive us insane. But no, it's just Monster being Monster, thinking we'll be as impressed with his new project as he is.
Last night he said to me, "Mama, look what I did to my toothpaste!" and I inwardly groaned. This was a brand-new container of toothpaste we had bought him. It's berry flavored (because mint still sends him into fits of rage, like his taste buds are being burned off by acid). So with lots of trepidation I looked on the counter at his bottle of toothpaste. What did he do? Did he add Draino to it? Pump hand soap into it? Pour his never-ending supply of goop into it?
No. He had pulled the label off. I realized I had been holding my breath, waiting for the punchline, and I audibly let out my breath and laughed. "Oh, cool!". Monster was surprised a bit - Mama is excited about something I showed her?
It was probably a mistake. A nod of approval to keep up these wasteful experiments that we try to explain cost us extra MONEY - this stuff isn't free. We've asked you not to use the stuff in the bathroom for experiments before (the liquid soap container used to get filled in the morning, and be empty by that evening). Not only is it wasteful but something you mix might be dangerous.
He has a chemistry kit. He has no interest in it. He wants to use our normal household products to try whatever little test he gets in his head.
It sure makes life interesting. And not always in a good way.
Now most parents would be all excited, "Ohh, Honey!! What did you do?"
I was naive enough at one point to be one of those parents.
But now I know better. "Mama, look what I did!" can mean, 'look at how I flooded the kitchen floor!' or 'Look at how I took a whole bottle of your new shampoo and mixed it in with my goop to have goop shampoo!' 'Look at how I dumped sugar all over the counter to make a "beach" for my lego people to play on!"
He always says it so excitedly, like he can't WAIT to show us his latest destruction. I sometimes wonder if he is intentionally trying to drive us insane. But no, it's just Monster being Monster, thinking we'll be as impressed with his new project as he is.
Last night he said to me, "Mama, look what I did to my toothpaste!" and I inwardly groaned. This was a brand-new container of toothpaste we had bought him. It's berry flavored (because mint still sends him into fits of rage, like his taste buds are being burned off by acid). So with lots of trepidation I looked on the counter at his bottle of toothpaste. What did he do? Did he add Draino to it? Pump hand soap into it? Pour his never-ending supply of goop into it?
No. He had pulled the label off. I realized I had been holding my breath, waiting for the punchline, and I audibly let out my breath and laughed. "Oh, cool!". Monster was surprised a bit - Mama is excited about something I showed her?
It was probably a mistake. A nod of approval to keep up these wasteful experiments that we try to explain cost us extra MONEY - this stuff isn't free. We've asked you not to use the stuff in the bathroom for experiments before (the liquid soap container used to get filled in the morning, and be empty by that evening). Not only is it wasteful but something you mix might be dangerous.
He has a chemistry kit. He has no interest in it. He wants to use our normal household products to try whatever little test he gets in his head.
It sure makes life interesting. And not always in a good way.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
When Mama loses her mind
Picture this - a snowstorm, not a huge one, just one with enough snow to bring the freeways to a dead stop. It took me 45 minutes to drive 8 miles to pick up Monster at his daycare. Pick him up, and our new deal is, you do your homework in the car, and you have more time to play, watch TV, whatever, when you get home. He isn't doing anything anyhow, so why not do his homework?
I tell him last night, we're in for a long ride home. You may as well do homework because you won't have a heckuva lot of time to do anything after we eat dinner whenever we get home.
For awhile, the homework in the car thing has worked. He does it, no complaints. At stop lights I help him with instructions he doesn't understand. There hasn't been the whining, the "I CAN'T DO THIS!", the general griping and complaining. Last night though, he starts in right away. "I can't do this. It's too hard." Whine. Whine some more. Whimper and complain. And I'm fighting snow and stupid drivers and I finally yell at him, "SHUT UP! GET YOUR HOMEWORK DONE NOW OR NO TREAT AFTER DINNER!!!" And he tries to make a deal with me - "How about no video games after dinner?" "NO - You haven't played video games in ages. How is that punishment?" then he starts in with the whining again and I start yelling, "I'm SICK AND TIRED OF YOUR BITCHING AND WHINING EVERY.SINGLE.DAY!!!! You're going to have homework for the next 11 YEARS AT LEAST SO DEAL WITH IT!" Then he starts crying. And for the first time in ages I don't feel guilty for making him cry. I let him cry. I calm myself down and say, listen. just do your homework. Now. And if I hear one more whine out of you NO treat tonight. Then he apologizes for whining and I apologize for yelling. And he does his homework and I wonder why it has to be this way every day when his homework when the problems are 4+1 and 5-0? He knows way more than this stuff. But he whines. Oh, how he whines.
So I lost my mind with him last night. Poor kid. I try to be patience but my supply sometimes runs out. Especially when I've been in the car for an hour and a half, and half of that time I've been listening to my son whine. Sigh.
I tell him last night, we're in for a long ride home. You may as well do homework because you won't have a heckuva lot of time to do anything after we eat dinner whenever we get home.
For awhile, the homework in the car thing has worked. He does it, no complaints. At stop lights I help him with instructions he doesn't understand. There hasn't been the whining, the "I CAN'T DO THIS!", the general griping and complaining. Last night though, he starts in right away. "I can't do this. It's too hard." Whine. Whine some more. Whimper and complain. And I'm fighting snow and stupid drivers and I finally yell at him, "SHUT UP! GET YOUR HOMEWORK DONE NOW OR NO TREAT AFTER DINNER!!!" And he tries to make a deal with me - "How about no video games after dinner?" "NO - You haven't played video games in ages. How is that punishment?" then he starts in with the whining again and I start yelling, "I'm SICK AND TIRED OF YOUR BITCHING AND WHINING EVERY.SINGLE.DAY!!!! You're going to have homework for the next 11 YEARS AT LEAST SO DEAL WITH IT!" Then he starts crying. And for the first time in ages I don't feel guilty for making him cry. I let him cry. I calm myself down and say, listen. just do your homework. Now. And if I hear one more whine out of you NO treat tonight. Then he apologizes for whining and I apologize for yelling. And he does his homework and I wonder why it has to be this way every day when his homework when the problems are 4+1 and 5-0? He knows way more than this stuff. But he whines. Oh, how he whines.
So I lost my mind with him last night. Poor kid. I try to be patience but my supply sometimes runs out. Especially when I've been in the car for an hour and a half, and half of that time I've been listening to my son whine. Sigh.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
"You Stink!"
Only moms to other ASD children will be able to understand the joy I felt when Monster, angry with me for making him go to his room because he was refusing to do his homework, came out with an envelope that he said had a message for me. I opened it and it said, “Mom you stink”. And instead of getting angry, lecturing my son about his need to respect me, grounding him, etc, I simply hid my smile and told him, I’m sorry you feel that way. Now let’s get that homework finished.
Parents of NT children wouldn’t get why this is a cause for celebration. My son – the one who less than a year ago would have been screaming, kicking, slamming his head on the floor (and admittedly, he does still occasionally do these things) – is learning to express himself verbally instead of physically. And I couldn’t be more proud. Not that I’m going to tell him it’s okay to tell me I stink or call me names, but I did thank him for using his words before sitting him back in front of his homework.
It’s a happy day. It’s one of those days where you see rays of sunshine through the clouds. And these moments when my son does something I consider pretty amazing always catch me by surprise and add a little joy to my day.
Parents of NT children wouldn’t get why this is a cause for celebration. My son – the one who less than a year ago would have been screaming, kicking, slamming his head on the floor (and admittedly, he does still occasionally do these things) – is learning to express himself verbally instead of physically. And I couldn’t be more proud. Not that I’m going to tell him it’s okay to tell me I stink or call me names, but I did thank him for using his words before sitting him back in front of his homework.
It’s a happy day. It’s one of those days where you see rays of sunshine through the clouds. And these moments when my son does something I consider pretty amazing always catch me by surprise and add a little joy to my day.
Friday, December 5, 2008
School and daycare and PTSD
Not that I take PTSD lightly, but I really think I have it. I get notes from Monster's teacher and some days the notes are all about how horribly he acted - he was making noises and couldn't be quieted - needed to take 4 time outs, tried to hit the teacher, yelled at a classmate, etc. I read these reports and want to cry. As if each time I hear about these things my son does it re-opens the wound. I KNOW my kid occasionally (okay, maybe not so "occasionally") acts badly. Why does it scare and horrify me to read about a problem at school?
Because of kindergarten. Because of the hell we went through with suspensions, "quiet rooms", calls from the principal, etc. Intelectually I know that the school and classroom M is in now is such a change from kindergarten, and the principal at this school and his teacher actually LIKE him. I know that my son is not going to be sent home for being rotten. They deal with it. He is in a classroom FOR rotten kids - if they were sent home for being rotten the classroom would be empty most of the time and the teacher out of a job.
So I try not to get upset when I read about these bad days. But always my stomach knots up and I feel as if I am having trouble breathing. Panic attacks. Small ones, but there it is nonetheless.
Daycare. Let me count here......
#1 - National chain - pulled from center because my parents decided to stop helping us pay for his daycare. Out of desperation I placed him in
#2 - a home daycare - a single mom who seemed nice enough, sort of hippy-ish, pretty cool. She tried to kill my son. Maybe not flat out, but she didn't change his diaper in 5 hours. Didn't even open his baby food or wipes. Claims she tried to give him a bottle. Put him to sleep on his stomach. Called me at work to complain that he couldn't be comforted. Arrived to find that her daughter had some awful Jim Carrey movie playing at a deafening volume. Got my son calmed down but then called my boss and said I couldn't come back to work. Asked for my deposit back and was told no. Took my unopened diapers and baby food and left. Sued her in small claims court and won, but never got any money.
#3 - back to # 1. Fought constantly with them to not allow my son to fall asleep at 12:30 since I picked him up at 12:45 and he never fell back asleep. They never did it. Once walked in to find the woman in his room asleep on the floor next to one of the kids' cots. Another time she was screaming at a tiny boy for crying. When M was 18 months old he had a fat, bloody lip when I picked him up. No incident report. I was tld nobody saw it happen, but "you know how boys fight".
#4 - Brand new gorgeous national chain daycare opened and thank goodness because #1/3 was awful. Within a couple of weeks the trouble started. The write-ups started. Biting. Hitting. We had meetings with the director and classroom teachers where they told us what awful parents we were (in slightly more veiled words) and how we needed to punish him more for his misbehaviors. We tried - we really did. I still have guilt over the constant trouble that kid was in and the lectures, because I know now that these things don't work and only add to the ASD child's stress. When M was two he got written up for throwing a chair across a rom and hitting a teacher. He was placed on warning. More meetings. More "strategy development". Was refused to be put into the older kids' room because he wasn't potty trained, even though a girl in the older classroom once came up to me to show me her "Dora panties" and lifted her dress to show off Dora pullups! At some point we knew it was only a matter of time before M was gone and I started searching for another place. We were told that after two more written warnings he was out. I found him a new place and on his last day he was written up three times. I threw them in the trash instead of signing them.
#5 - The Most Wonderful Daycare Ever. A small, local chain that treated M like the special, wonderful boy he was. The place was small and there were only maybe 12 children and they were usually split between two rooms with two teachers in each. Wonderful women and the kids were happy and well-adjusted. A 5-year-old there obviously had Asperger's. Once a teacher said to me, about this boy AND M, "I just love kids like this!" I was oblivious. I also once told the director how I was glad M wouldn't need special ed, and she said, "Well, don't be so sure..." once again, I simply let it go. I didn't know what to make of it.
The owners of the daycare decided that location wasn't profitable and closed it 6 months after M started.
#6 - SO close to my work, a daycare run in a Lutheran church that seemed very accepting and kind. They knew M had aggression issues and said they would work with him and us. They did well for awhile. M was in the younger room, once again because he wasn't potty trained and they didn't have diaper changing facilities in the older kids' room.
When he finally did potty train they moved him up. This is when the trouble started. The kids knew he was different and egged him on to get him angry. M wanted so badly to be accepted and when he wasn't he hit and pushed and kicked. Suspensions. Calling in a specialist who observed M and gave advise on how to help him behave better. Then he hit a kid in the head wiith a wooden block and the kid needed to be rushed to the hospital for stitches. So much for the church daycare. Back to looking.
#7 - a different location of the wonderful local chain. I was naive enough to think that the teachers would be the same. Day One I got a phone call from the teacher saying that my son would never work out in this daycare and why did I ever think this would work. She hated him. He actually drove her to tears several times. I would go to pick him up and she would be crying, telling me my son had done this to her. It was time to get answers. I broke down and called our city's special ed division. I told the woman in charge that it was an emergency. She went to the daycare the next day. She called me after observing and used that awful word - that "A" word, the one I had heard occasionally before but just knew didn't apply to my son. But here she was telling me my son displayed several traits of Asperger's. They set up a meeting, and knowing that this teacher hated my son and did nothing to hide it, and refused all of their attempts to help her deal with him until we could find him a new placement, they pushed through his testing schedule at lightning speed, and within two weeks we knew my son had Asperger's, at least according to our school district.
# 8 - M started a special preschool. We were told (honest to god) that we would put him in this class and by the time kindergarten came around he would be "fine". At this time we also placed him in a home daycare with a single woman who treated my son like a piece of dirt. She spoke with the autism specialist from the school and decided that my son could not be trusted to play with other children - she kept him isolated in a stinky cluttered room on his own most of the time. Two older boys played tricks on him to get him in trouble with her, and she always blamed my son, even when the evidence pointed to the fact that these boys had purposely done something to get him in trouble (like throwing his favorite toy into a playpen they weren't allowed to climb into, and then telling the DCP when my son went to retrieve his toy).
# 9 - I got him out of there as soon as I found him another place, a place that oddly enough I had checked out when we were looking for home daycare when my son was a baby. I called it "the garbage house" and that's basically what it was (Still is). He loved it there though and I thought was doing well, until one da they dropped the bomb that he wasn't welcome back. I don't know why. I thnk another parent complained because their kid was pushed.
Found out months later that the man who watched the kids mostly used to flick M in the head and spank him. He also had friends come over to visit and once my son asked for a drink of water. A "friend" gave him water and my son took a swallow, and it was hot water. M freaked out. Friend thought it was hilarious.
And people wonder why I have issues with home daycares....
#10 - Another wonderful independent local chain who understood my child, and while they did have to call a couple of times to ask us to come get him because he was out of control, he did really well there. He graduated from there when he was ready for kindergarten. I miss that place.
#11 - The after-school program at school. They can't kick him out, right? They're funded by the school. They are in the school building. They can't discriminate against my kid, right?
My son went insane at that place. He once hurt a teacher so badly she was out on leave for awhile. They kicked him out. I fought them. I went to the OCR. I filed a police report when my son came home with dark red marks in his armpits where his "aide" had grabbed him and thrown him into the "calming room". We lost our case after about a year.
#12 - Hubby and I worked out an insane schedule so we could be home when Monster was home. We did this for a few months, until summer came
#13 - PCA and respite and day treatment program for summer - PCA mornings M-TH until 12:30 when the bus picked hm up for day treatment. I was home before he got home. Fridays, no day treatment, so he went to respite at a very nice facility that he will be too old for next year. This all happened because I finally got PCA hours, or I would have done this all earlier.
# 14 - the home daycare he's in now. The HDC mom has a 12-year-old child with Asperger's. She's complained about M a few times, but so far no threats. But every day I wait. I have no faith M will make it here. I wish I did.
So. This is why I am traumatized about daycares. Wow- that was sort of cathartic, in a way...
Because of kindergarten. Because of the hell we went through with suspensions, "quiet rooms", calls from the principal, etc. Intelectually I know that the school and classroom M is in now is such a change from kindergarten, and the principal at this school and his teacher actually LIKE him. I know that my son is not going to be sent home for being rotten. They deal with it. He is in a classroom FOR rotten kids - if they were sent home for being rotten the classroom would be empty most of the time and the teacher out of a job.
So I try not to get upset when I read about these bad days. But always my stomach knots up and I feel as if I am having trouble breathing. Panic attacks. Small ones, but there it is nonetheless.
Daycare. Let me count here......
#1 - National chain - pulled from center because my parents decided to stop helping us pay for his daycare. Out of desperation I placed him in
#2 - a home daycare - a single mom who seemed nice enough, sort of hippy-ish, pretty cool. She tried to kill my son. Maybe not flat out, but she didn't change his diaper in 5 hours. Didn't even open his baby food or wipes. Claims she tried to give him a bottle. Put him to sleep on his stomach. Called me at work to complain that he couldn't be comforted. Arrived to find that her daughter had some awful Jim Carrey movie playing at a deafening volume. Got my son calmed down but then called my boss and said I couldn't come back to work. Asked for my deposit back and was told no. Took my unopened diapers and baby food and left. Sued her in small claims court and won, but never got any money.
#3 - back to # 1. Fought constantly with them to not allow my son to fall asleep at 12:30 since I picked him up at 12:45 and he never fell back asleep. They never did it. Once walked in to find the woman in his room asleep on the floor next to one of the kids' cots. Another time she was screaming at a tiny boy for crying. When M was 18 months old he had a fat, bloody lip when I picked him up. No incident report. I was tld nobody saw it happen, but "you know how boys fight".
#4 - Brand new gorgeous national chain daycare opened and thank goodness because #1/3 was awful. Within a couple of weeks the trouble started. The write-ups started. Biting. Hitting. We had meetings with the director and classroom teachers where they told us what awful parents we were (in slightly more veiled words) and how we needed to punish him more for his misbehaviors. We tried - we really did. I still have guilt over the constant trouble that kid was in and the lectures, because I know now that these things don't work and only add to the ASD child's stress. When M was two he got written up for throwing a chair across a rom and hitting a teacher. He was placed on warning. More meetings. More "strategy development". Was refused to be put into the older kids' room because he wasn't potty trained, even though a girl in the older classroom once came up to me to show me her "Dora panties" and lifted her dress to show off Dora pullups! At some point we knew it was only a matter of time before M was gone and I started searching for another place. We were told that after two more written warnings he was out. I found him a new place and on his last day he was written up three times. I threw them in the trash instead of signing them.
#5 - The Most Wonderful Daycare Ever. A small, local chain that treated M like the special, wonderful boy he was. The place was small and there were only maybe 12 children and they were usually split between two rooms with two teachers in each. Wonderful women and the kids were happy and well-adjusted. A 5-year-old there obviously had Asperger's. Once a teacher said to me, about this boy AND M, "I just love kids like this!" I was oblivious. I also once told the director how I was glad M wouldn't need special ed, and she said, "Well, don't be so sure..." once again, I simply let it go. I didn't know what to make of it.
The owners of the daycare decided that location wasn't profitable and closed it 6 months after M started.
#6 - SO close to my work, a daycare run in a Lutheran church that seemed very accepting and kind. They knew M had aggression issues and said they would work with him and us. They did well for awhile. M was in the younger room, once again because he wasn't potty trained and they didn't have diaper changing facilities in the older kids' room.
When he finally did potty train they moved him up. This is when the trouble started. The kids knew he was different and egged him on to get him angry. M wanted so badly to be accepted and when he wasn't he hit and pushed and kicked. Suspensions. Calling in a specialist who observed M and gave advise on how to help him behave better. Then he hit a kid in the head wiith a wooden block and the kid needed to be rushed to the hospital for stitches. So much for the church daycare. Back to looking.
#7 - a different location of the wonderful local chain. I was naive enough to think that the teachers would be the same. Day One I got a phone call from the teacher saying that my son would never work out in this daycare and why did I ever think this would work. She hated him. He actually drove her to tears several times. I would go to pick him up and she would be crying, telling me my son had done this to her. It was time to get answers. I broke down and called our city's special ed division. I told the woman in charge that it was an emergency. She went to the daycare the next day. She called me after observing and used that awful word - that "A" word, the one I had heard occasionally before but just knew didn't apply to my son. But here she was telling me my son displayed several traits of Asperger's. They set up a meeting, and knowing that this teacher hated my son and did nothing to hide it, and refused all of their attempts to help her deal with him until we could find him a new placement, they pushed through his testing schedule at lightning speed, and within two weeks we knew my son had Asperger's, at least according to our school district.
# 8 - M started a special preschool. We were told (honest to god) that we would put him in this class and by the time kindergarten came around he would be "fine". At this time we also placed him in a home daycare with a single woman who treated my son like a piece of dirt. She spoke with the autism specialist from the school and decided that my son could not be trusted to play with other children - she kept him isolated in a stinky cluttered room on his own most of the time. Two older boys played tricks on him to get him in trouble with her, and she always blamed my son, even when the evidence pointed to the fact that these boys had purposely done something to get him in trouble (like throwing his favorite toy into a playpen they weren't allowed to climb into, and then telling the DCP when my son went to retrieve his toy).
# 9 - I got him out of there as soon as I found him another place, a place that oddly enough I had checked out when we were looking for home daycare when my son was a baby. I called it "the garbage house" and that's basically what it was (Still is). He loved it there though and I thought was doing well, until one da they dropped the bomb that he wasn't welcome back. I don't know why. I thnk another parent complained because their kid was pushed.
Found out months later that the man who watched the kids mostly used to flick M in the head and spank him. He also had friends come over to visit and once my son asked for a drink of water. A "friend" gave him water and my son took a swallow, and it was hot water. M freaked out. Friend thought it was hilarious.
And people wonder why I have issues with home daycares....
#10 - Another wonderful independent local chain who understood my child, and while they did have to call a couple of times to ask us to come get him because he was out of control, he did really well there. He graduated from there when he was ready for kindergarten. I miss that place.
#11 - The after-school program at school. They can't kick him out, right? They're funded by the school. They are in the school building. They can't discriminate against my kid, right?
My son went insane at that place. He once hurt a teacher so badly she was out on leave for awhile. They kicked him out. I fought them. I went to the OCR. I filed a police report when my son came home with dark red marks in his armpits where his "aide" had grabbed him and thrown him into the "calming room". We lost our case after about a year.
#12 - Hubby and I worked out an insane schedule so we could be home when Monster was home. We did this for a few months, until summer came
#13 - PCA and respite and day treatment program for summer - PCA mornings M-TH until 12:30 when the bus picked hm up for day treatment. I was home before he got home. Fridays, no day treatment, so he went to respite at a very nice facility that he will be too old for next year. This all happened because I finally got PCA hours, or I would have done this all earlier.
# 14 - the home daycare he's in now. The HDC mom has a 12-year-old child with Asperger's. She's complained about M a few times, but so far no threats. But every day I wait. I have no faith M will make it here. I wish I did.
So. This is why I am traumatized about daycares. Wow- that was sort of cathartic, in a way...
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Because I need more to worry about
About two months ago my dad had major foot surgery. He had broken his foot a long time ago and never gotten it fixed, and he had gotten to the point where he couldn't walk without a came. He saw an orthopedist who apparently told him how awful the rest of his life would be if he didn't get his foot fixed, so he finally broke down and had the surgery he's put off for over 20 years. After the surgery the doctor put this huge monstrosity of a brace on it with pins going into his bones from all directions - 16 in all. My mom said, picture those things they screw into people's heads when they fracture something in their neck, on his foot. It was a monstrosity. My mom had to clean it daily - each pin, unwrapping and wiping and cleaning and wiping and rewrapping. They also discovered my dad had an enlarged prostate and so he ended up with a catheter, that my mom had to learn how to change and clean for him.So he's been at home stuck in bed forever. He's bored and sore and depressed. The stock market crash is destroying him - he's losing all his money. My mom noticed last Wednesday that one of the pins looked like there was an infection around it. She called the doctor and he called in a prescription of antibiotics for him. So he's been taking those and they've been screwing up his stomach. Then Thursday they took him out for Thanksgiving - his first trip outside the house that wasn't to the doctor's office. They had a nice dinner and took a walk (with my brother pushing the wheelchair) on the pier. This Sunday my mom noticed a couple of the pins seemed weirdly loose. They had an appointment Monday so she figured she'd talk to the doctor then. Meanwhile, my dad developed horrible pains in his lower gut and lost control of his bladder. So my mom had to get him Depends. Doctor's visit Monday - my dad has a severe bladder infection. More antibiotics. He hasn't wanted to eat for over a week. i guess he barely ate on Thanksgiving. AND the two pins that were loose - they broke. And the one that looked infected, well, there's a chance my dad has a bone infection. So they had to take the whole contraption off two weeks early which will slow the healing process and keep him in bed even longer than expected.Thursday my mom will find out if he has a bone infection, and if he does he will need intravenous antibiotics for two months. My mom finally broke down and asked for a home health care nurse (thank god). They're going to try to get a male so that he can lift my dad and get him into his wheelchair and take him outside. My mom is exhausted and depressed and my dad told her today he'd be better off dead. This is not my dad. He doesn't talk like this. I'm afraid he's just giving up, and I don't know how to give him any reason to want to go on. I know he's miserable and depressed. I know he can't see the light at the end of the tunnel, and if he chooses he will just give up.I'm scared and sad for him. I don't know what to do for either of them. I'm 2 thousand miles away from them. I thought about going out there but I don't know how Hubby can handle getting Monster to and from school and still get his 8 hours at work in. Besides, M is falling apart since he was kicked out of day treatment and is having more trouble in school than they've seen in ages. I feel like I can't leave him now, because he has his own traumas right now, and sorry to say it, but Hubby is not prepared to deal with Monster on his own for any extended period of time, not now when he blows up at M for doing 6-year-old stuff.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
The fun never stops!
The job I hated will be no more soon. My boss had a little chat with me yesterday and told me I wasn't a "good fit", but she's not firing me; she's going to help me find a different job within the corporation where I'd fit better. Not sure what that means because I am (I thought) pretty good at my job, but the two things that have been angering and frustrating me have nothing to do with my performance per se...
1) My boss has been really ticked off at me since I applied for intermittent FMLA, even though I've only had to use it ONCE in the past 6 months to care for Monster.
2) My boss has no children and oddly enough nobody else has small children in her division, and she has no understanding of how sometimes, as much as we care about our jobs and want to do our best and put in our time, our children must come first. We responsible parents do everything we can to make sure that our children are cared for and have places to go so that we can go to work and get our work doen without worrying about them. But that all changes when your child consistently gets kicked out of daycares, sent home from school, etc. I can't put in the OT my boss expects everyone under her to put in, because I need to put in my 8 hours and then be home for my child. I have no problem putting in OT when a project calls for it, but she seems to think a truly dedicated employee would practically sleep at work.
Blessing in disguise? We'll see. It depends upon whether or not I get a decent job out of this whole deal, with a boss who hopefully has young children, or grown children, but at least remembers. I am semi-friends with a man who supervises my old department (he was promoted after I left) and he has a disabled daughter. He;s the one who told me about intermittent FMLA. So I emailed him yesterday and asked him to keep an eye out for me. I have quite a few connections and these people, even if they don't have positions for me, can put in a good word for me to whomever asks.
So now, my blessings from Monster list, for no reason whatsoever except of course his being who he is makes everything more difficult when dealing with all the ignorant, intolerant people out there. like my boss....
1) His great sense of humor. We make each other laugh all the time. His humor is twisted and sarcastic, like mine. Plus sneaky and goofy and immature, also like me. Just now as I was writing this he said, "Does this tickle?" and then blew on my belly. The nut.
2) His amazing intelligence. His insight and deductive reasoning is mind -boggling. He always impresses me, and since I consider myself somewhat bright, that's VERY impressive, IMO.
3) His cuddliness. He still asks for "Uppy comepuppy", code word for, "I want to be held". He crawls his long, lanky body onto my lap and settles against my chest and it's like a homecoming. My body relaxes and I breathe deeply. I was meant to hold this child. I was meant to give him all the hugs and "uppy comepuppies" he needs.
4) His caring and compassion. When I slid down the wet, muddy stairs at the Renaissance Festival this summer my boy was right there, hugging me, kissing me, holding me, asking me what I needed. He is kind and recently started bawling when they showed a particularly heart-wrenching Humane Society commercial. He wouldn't calm down until I went online and made a contribution to them.
5) His love and appreciation of all that is fun. Rides, trips to parks, paddleboats, camping (with Hubby, NOT me), fishing (again with Hubby) - he is just ready to try anything. He has an enthusiasm and excitement about life that I can't help but get caught up in.
6) He is amazingly beautiful. He is physically perfect - tall and lean. He has huge brown eyes and hair like mine when I was little - golden blonde in the winter and light blonde in the summer. I still love to just look at him. I can't stop looking at him.
7) The way his team at his school tells me that he "lights up the room" when he enters. The teachers adore him and my son seems to know how to charm them even though he still has his issues. Even the principal thinks he's wonderful. A far cry from the principal at his old school, who considered him merely a troublemaker.
I don't dread going to work anymore. Today I'll get ahold of all the rest of my friends and get the word out. Then I'll start applying for the jobs my boss claims she'll help me land. And maybe I'll find a boss who understands that sometimes children need to come first. I'm not scared of hard work and I do my damnedest to keep my private life separate from my work life, but kids like mine tend to bleed into every other part of your life. People need to start undertstanding that.
1) My boss has been really ticked off at me since I applied for intermittent FMLA, even though I've only had to use it ONCE in the past 6 months to care for Monster.
2) My boss has no children and oddly enough nobody else has small children in her division, and she has no understanding of how sometimes, as much as we care about our jobs and want to do our best and put in our time, our children must come first. We responsible parents do everything we can to make sure that our children are cared for and have places to go so that we can go to work and get our work doen without worrying about them. But that all changes when your child consistently gets kicked out of daycares, sent home from school, etc. I can't put in the OT my boss expects everyone under her to put in, because I need to put in my 8 hours and then be home for my child. I have no problem putting in OT when a project calls for it, but she seems to think a truly dedicated employee would practically sleep at work.
Blessing in disguise? We'll see. It depends upon whether or not I get a decent job out of this whole deal, with a boss who hopefully has young children, or grown children, but at least remembers. I am semi-friends with a man who supervises my old department (he was promoted after I left) and he has a disabled daughter. He;s the one who told me about intermittent FMLA. So I emailed him yesterday and asked him to keep an eye out for me. I have quite a few connections and these people, even if they don't have positions for me, can put in a good word for me to whomever asks.
So now, my blessings from Monster list, for no reason whatsoever except of course his being who he is makes everything more difficult when dealing with all the ignorant, intolerant people out there. like my boss....
1) His great sense of humor. We make each other laugh all the time. His humor is twisted and sarcastic, like mine. Plus sneaky and goofy and immature, also like me. Just now as I was writing this he said, "Does this tickle?" and then blew on my belly. The nut.
2) His amazing intelligence. His insight and deductive reasoning is mind -boggling. He always impresses me, and since I consider myself somewhat bright, that's VERY impressive, IMO.
3) His cuddliness. He still asks for "Uppy comepuppy", code word for, "I want to be held". He crawls his long, lanky body onto my lap and settles against my chest and it's like a homecoming. My body relaxes and I breathe deeply. I was meant to hold this child. I was meant to give him all the hugs and "uppy comepuppies" he needs.
4) His caring and compassion. When I slid down the wet, muddy stairs at the Renaissance Festival this summer my boy was right there, hugging me, kissing me, holding me, asking me what I needed. He is kind and recently started bawling when they showed a particularly heart-wrenching Humane Society commercial. He wouldn't calm down until I went online and made a contribution to them.
5) His love and appreciation of all that is fun. Rides, trips to parks, paddleboats, camping (with Hubby, NOT me), fishing (again with Hubby) - he is just ready to try anything. He has an enthusiasm and excitement about life that I can't help but get caught up in.
6) He is amazingly beautiful. He is physically perfect - tall and lean. He has huge brown eyes and hair like mine when I was little - golden blonde in the winter and light blonde in the summer. I still love to just look at him. I can't stop looking at him.
7) The way his team at his school tells me that he "lights up the room" when he enters. The teachers adore him and my son seems to know how to charm them even though he still has his issues. Even the principal thinks he's wonderful. A far cry from the principal at his old school, who considered him merely a troublemaker.
I don't dread going to work anymore. Today I'll get ahold of all the rest of my friends and get the word out. Then I'll start applying for the jobs my boss claims she'll help me land. And maybe I'll find a boss who understands that sometimes children need to come first. I'm not scared of hard work and I do my damnedest to keep my private life separate from my work life, but kids like mine tend to bleed into every other part of your life. People need to start undertstanding that.
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