Working?

This morning Cassie bounded down the stairs and found me laying in bed, again.

"Did my prayer work Mom?" she asks.

"What prayer?" I ask.

"I prayed that you would feel better and not be so sick anymore." she replies.

"I don't know. It might be awhile before I feel better." I respond.

"But not too long right?" she asks.

"A few more weeks." I say.

"Okay." she says as she bounces off toward the bathroom.

Know-It-All

I know a little bit about computers. A little. Most of what I have learned has come from osmosis from being around my husband.

He is the real computer savy person in our family but I can fake my way through quite a few situations.

But the other day I was in the middle of a conversation that involved modems, networks, LAN, wi fi, and CAT6. I was hanging in pretty well for quite a while but towards the end I was lost. I decided it was time to bail and let the "experts" finish their conversation.

Then Becca turns to me and says, "What do you think Mom?" Clearly she inherited her Dad's talent.

It's All About Me

A package arrived in the mail the other day.

But it wasn't for me.

It was for Mr. Bill.

It was one of many personalized books from Kids Personally. I choose the book about dinosaurs for him since he loves to read about dinosaurs. We went to Barnes and Nobles about a month ago and the entire hour we spent in the store he used to read one book about dinosaurs.
But this book is even better. It not only has dinosaurs in it but the book has his name throughout the story. And three of his friends are listed in it too.

When he opened the book he was excited because it was about dinosaurs but when I started reading the book to him he was really surprised to hear his own nickname throughout the story.
He even took it to school the next day and his teacher read the book to the class. He came back with rave reviews from his teacher and his friends.

Of course I now have 6 other kids who think they need their own personalized books. I am sure I will be ordering more. They are too cute and the kids never get tired of reading about themselves.

Professional Babysitter

I was watching a commercial yesterday for Merry Maids and thought to myself, "Why don't they have professional babysitting services?"

Yes, I know that is what daycare is. But daycare doesn't come to your house and many aren't open after 6 p.m.

Just imagine a professional babysitter's service. You and your husband decide at 6 p.m. that you want to go out for dinner alone. You call the service and they send one of hundreds of pre-screened, dependable, and quality babysitters to your home. No more worrying about whether or not the teenage girl down the street has a game or other activity that night. No more worrying about calling at the last minute.

For people in small town's like me without a wealth of teenage girls to call this would be great. And even in large cities if you are new to the area or don't know many people you would have a qualified babysitter at hand.

I can dream...

Mixed Up Fairy Tales

The kids came home with some sheep wool that the art teacher had given them. They were learning how to spin it into yarn.

Cassie tells us the teacher said in the olden days women used a spinning wheel just like the one on Sleeping Beauty. You know the one she pricked her finger on?

Mr. Bill pipes up, "No it was an apple on the spinning wheel. She took it off and ate it and then fell asleep."

The Skies Have Opened...

Today I met with a therapist who is coming to help us deal with Jozey. Just the hour we spent together talking made the sun shine in my heart.

She gets it. She is willing to help. And I am so grateful.

There is hope that this boy will learn to be happy, loving, and comfortable in his own skin. Hope is a beautiful thing.

Keeping Warm

The old fashioned way...

Confused

We recently took a look at our life insurance. We wanted to make sure we had enough to cover what our kids would need if something happened to us and we wanted to add our new boys to the policy so they would also be covered.

On all our policies, my sister is listed as a beneficiary if something were to happen to all of us. So it was only natural that we would put the new policies in the same format. Only we got a letter in the mail telling us that she does not have an "insurable interest" in the boys and thus cannot be listed as a beneficiary.

At first I was mad. Now I just am irritated. Why does the beneficiary have to have an "insurable interest" in the person. We are paying for the policy, not her. Stupid.

And she would be the one to take our children if God-forbid something ever happened to us. I don't know about you but if someone showed up with 7 kids on my doorstep I would suddenly have a huge "insurable interest" in their kids.

Stupid. Stupid. STUPID.

A Day in Hell

I opened the door.

Jozey's teacher frowned and shook her head.

After a week of picking him up and her telling me he was once again defiant, stubborn, and just all out naughty she didn't even have to say anything. I knew he had been naughty today too.

So I bent down and asked him what happened today. He looked at the floor and refused to speak. I held his wrist and told him to look at me. I repeated the question. He looked at me blankly and refused to answer.

I reminded him that he is supposed to listen to his teachers and if they tell him to do something he is supposed to do that. We have already been in twice to apologize for not listening. Clearly we are not making any impression on him.

I tell him he needs to apologize to his teachers. He takes this opportunity to start yelling "owie owie owie" because the grip I have on his wrist is equal to the pain he would experience if I was shoving a hot poker in his eye... or at least he thinks so. This is nothing new. He yells owie if I even rub his head or brush by him. At some point in his life, "owie" must have saved him from facing the consequences of his behavior.

Not today.

"I am not hurting you. You need to apologize to your teachers." I say calmly despite the screaming voices in my head.

He looks at the floor again and refuses to talk.

"Look at me," I repeat four more times. He finally looks up. "You need to tell your teachers you are sorry." He stares at me blankly.

"We will stay here until you apologize," I state. He must finally see I am serious as he apologizes to his teachers. But his is not happy about it and is going to let me know it. He starts pulling away from me. I pull him back so I can let go without him falling on his butt but he takes this as a sign of me trying to control him and he totally freaks out. The tears start, the screaming starts, the foot stomping starts. If I let go now he will go flying across the floor so I hold tight.

I stand and tell his teachers, "He is done." When he gets like that there is no getting anywhere with him. I half drag, half walk him out the door where his fit only gets louder and more out of control. We finally get to the car I snap. I grab his cheeks and look right in his face and yell, "That is enough!"

He cries all the way home. I put him to bed as soon as he gets his shoes and coat off.

I get on the phone and start calling for help. He needs therapy. He needs help. I find a therapist on the advice of his teacher but she can't see us for two weeks. Two long weeks.

Heaven help me.

Living with RAD

Reactive Attachment Disorder is so hard to understand. (Learn more about it here.)

It is even harder to live with.

Imagine that giving your child a kiss goodnight sends them into a huge tantrum. Like a tantrum you have never seen before. Screaming, yelling, crying, and hurting themselves.

All because that kiss threatens the security they think they have set up around themselves to protect them from adults who in their minds don't take care of them.

This is what I deal with on a daily basis. Kids should not be afraid of love. It really makes me angry at their birth parents. Angry like you have never seen before.