This blog is my place to vent and share resources with other parents of children of trauma. I try to be open and honest about my feelings in order to help others know they are not alone. Therapeutic parenting of adopted teenagers with RAD and other severe mental illnesses and issues (plus "neurotypical" teens) , is not easy, and there are time when I say what I feel... at the moment. We're all human!

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

The poop hits the fan


The kids have been working vacation bible school (VBS) at the church (well, except Ponito, he's in it). They really seem to be enjoying it, even Bear (although he doesn't say it, he's very animated). I love listening to them tell stories of the children they're teaching. Bear is working with the recreation group which means he is "teaching" PE type stuff to all the grades all day. Perfect. Wish this went on all Summer!


Today the 5th graders (includes Ponito), the teenage volunteers, and some adult staff are going to a nearby waterpark after VBS - which ends at noon. Bear desperately wants to go (it's outside and active and away from family and direct supervision - what's not to like?!). He's been angling for it ever since he heard about it, and I've been giving him the same answer. I don't think it's a good idea.


He decided my only argument must be because it's $20 per child so he talked someone at the church into giving us a partial scholarship. This ticked Hubby off when he heard about it. We could be on welfare and Hubby wouldn't want anyone to have a clue. I understand privacy and not wanting pity, but this is our church family and I don't think they're judging us. Still, that's why he and I no longer go to church. I can't keep my mouth shut about our life. I'm so glad he doesn't read this blog!! It gives me the outlet I need so I don't feel the urge to vent in my real life as much. (THANKS FOR LISTENING Y'ALL!)


Grandma wrote a check for the other half (but Hubby doesn't know about that). Thanks anyway Grandma! I'll tear it up today.


I've been trying to find someone who's been to this waterpark to tell me if it's even possible for the kids to be supervised at all, but no one I know has been. After Kitty went to Six Flags where I though she'd be under direct supervision and instead there were 200 kids, maybe 20 teachers total, and no adults at all in her small group of herself and 3 boys (with thousands and thousands of park visitors), I'm not taking for granted that people will even keep an eye on my emotionally disturbed kids! And I don't think a bunch of 10-11 year olds (Ponito's age) need to be wandering the park either. Bob might be safe enough, but she doesn't want to go.


Some people at the church know my kids have issues. Most don't. Just looking at them people assume I must be crazy. They present as typical teenage kids. I told Bear last night that it was a supervision thing. He told me that he only hangs out with the youth group leader (early 20s) and he promises he won't get into any trouble. The truth is he probably wouldn't, but what if he does? Or this opens the door to doing even more things. This time he may behave, but next time he most likely won't.


We've often said if you give Bear an inch, he'll take a mile. It's definitely easier to not even give him that inch, even if he can handle it, and everyone around me says I should, because once the door is open even a crack he'll try to force his way through it and he just can't handle more than an inch or two. He knows it too. He acts all surly, but I think he feels safer - or he'd just run away. He claims that he doesn't complain because he knows there's no point, and some of that may be true, but I think he doesn't complain because he thinks he doesn't deserve better, he knows we won't give in, and because deep down he agrees with us.


Hubby told them "No" this morning (because my "No" all week isn't sufficient obviously). So I'll be dealing with the consequences when I pick them up this afternoon (Grandma is still sick). I want to sign them up to do volunteer work this afternoon at the horse therapy place, but I'm nervous about their reactions. I might take the number with me and call and see if they need any walk-on help.


Anyway I better get to work. I'm exhausted from staying up late last night. The dogs ran out of dog food (why can't the kids tell me before the food is completely gone?!) so I was at the grocery store at midnight picking up a few things (Bob was out of contact solution too), got home and unloaded groceries and realized I needed a bath because it had been awhile (I don't do the shower thing unless I absolutely have to - I prefer to soak in the tub and do some recreational reading. I think the year in college that my apartment didn't have a shower contributed to my depression - although I did pick up the impressive skill of being able to read in the shower).


Of course the Master bedroom toilet chose last night to overflow (Kitty used it when she was upstairs taking her shower - guess it's time to increase her constipation meds again). Usually I can unclog it pretty fast. If not, Hubby has gotten good with the snake, but the snake is mysteriously broken and Hubby was asleep. So I cleaned up the mess, poured some drain cleaner in it, left the plunger in it so Hubby wouldn't use it (I wish it was clean like the one in the picture. Sorry Hubby, good thing you have no sense of smell!), and took my bath (yes, I washed my arms and legs first so I wasn't soaking in "that.")


Debt collecter call work me up 5 minutes before my alarm. *sigh* At least we're finally getting most of them paid off. This one said the payment wasn't due for a couple more days, but he was calling now to give it time to "process." Why don't they just move up the due date to accomodate that? It's just stupid.


It's 11am. Do I declare myself officially "working from home" and take a quick nap, or go to work for 30 minutes before picking up the kids at VBS.... decisions, decisions.

1 comment:

Jess said...

goodness, sounds like you are having a time and a half! sending lots of well wishes your way, just remember, some day these will be your old days and you can laugh about them!