Trying

There is a new post on the other blog. Blogger currently only allows a 100 readers on a private blog. I am trying to migrate the other blog to word press, where that won't be a problem. Please be patient. I am hoping to get everyone shortly.

My 500th Post Here... On Being a Therapeutic Parent

Being a Therapeutic Parent is not just hard. I am sitting here, nursing my swollen hand, scratched face, and bitten arm and looking at Hope. Hope is in control and doesn't have a mark on her because of the last ninety minutes of sweat-pouring-down-my-back effort. It is only 2 o'clock in the afternoon. 5 1/2 hours to bedtime. My question is "How do I continue to be a Therapeutic Parent?"


After thirty years of parenting kids from the hard places. I have mastered (mostly) the art of waking up and looking at each day as a fresh start. I have always struggled with the day that has already gone south. I struggle with feeling that my best wasn't good enough. Obviously, since my child has just managed to rage for X hours. Or my sweetheart just called the worker a F*cken' B*tch. My child walking out of Manifestation Hearings also tend to make feel like it is pointless to go on. If I stay in that place long, the tears start.


When I reach the why*bother*stage, I find I have to intentionally fight my way out. And, so far, I have not found a sure fire way out. Sometimes, really cold ice tea and a rocking chair, helps me reset. Another time it might working in the garden. Occasionally, another Trauma Mama can talk me down. Before all my health problems, a long walk helped. Chocolate has a good shot, too. None of these methods give the grace of a new day.  I am tense. I keep Hope on a short leash because I know if she has another major meltdown, I will be unable to keep my therapeutic panties on.


I can appear patient. I can sound reasonable. I can even go through motions correctly. So what is the problem? The problem is children with Reactive Attachment Disorder have a built in emotional radar that spots a sore points and aims for it. They can't  help themselves. Time and healing are the only things that help. 

We are on our way home, facing 17 hours of driving. I am asking God for the grace to keep myself regulated because I know Hope won't be. It would be unreasonable for me to expect it to be any other  way.

X's IEP: My Work Is Done

Today I knew the IEP meeting was at 11 am. I was dressed in my professional best (shoes, even). I introduced myself, including my credentials. I had my graphs, a list of the information the school was suppose to bring to the meeting, and the relevant law dog eared in my WrightsLaw book.


X has appropriate reading goals, research-based reading interventions, and Extended School Year written into his IEP. They will be evaluating X's word retrieval speed and doing an FBA.


Last night, my son smacked X and gave GB the middle finger. I read the riot act to my son. I told him he would only have supervised  visitation with GB. I also told him if CPS took X away, I would be going to court to take X back to New York. I know I don't need one more kid, but J has had a vasectomy and there will be no more children from him.


I get to leave tomorrow and drive the 17 hours back to New York.

X's IEP- The Interim

At X's IEP Monday, one thing we accomplished was the initiation of a communication log. Tuesday, X came home with his communication log. It said, " Behavior was out of control today". No details. Hard to deal with.

X is busy writing a letter of apology and I am working on justifying an Individual Behavior Assessment.

Faking it- An Improvement

GB and X are doing well together. Hope is struggling. She spent an hour this morning crying and repeating "I have to go in Daddy's room." The first time, I asked why. Hope said her shoes were in there. I told her she had to wait until The Dad woke up. The crying continued. She asked over and over again to go into The Dad's room. An hour later she was still asking. It was pointless to say anything. Hope wasn't listening.

When The Dad got up, Hope was still going strong. He told she couldn't do anything until she was in control. She kept repeating, "Mommy won't let me". The Dad was repeating "you have to be in control". Forty five minutes later, Hope was back in control. That was an hour and forty five minutes of her brain totally shut off. To top it all off, Hope's shoes were not in The Dad's room. That set off another cascade of crying. GB felt sorry for her and found the shoes.

I have kept my cool, at least externally. I still hear the little voice in my head saying,"The answer has been the same the last hundred times. Why do you think it is going to change?" Right now the words stay in my head, I get busy with something else and try to wait patiently for the nonsense to end.

I still have more work to do for X's IEP. Tomorrow I will have pictures.

Off By a Bit

I had just started working on plotting my grandson's reading scores this morning when my son gets a phone call saying the IEP meeting is NOW not tomorrow at 1:05. I was wearing sweats and slippers and had X's records  spread around me. I scooped up X's records and went as I was.

X was reading at a DRA level 10 in June 2011. In September, 2011, he started back to school reading at a DRA level 6. It wasn't until the end of January, 2012, that X reached a level 10 again. That was as far I had gotten when they called.

We got a lot done, but stalled on extended year services. We are meeting again on Thursday to complete the IEP. I will be in Michigan until Friday AM.

I will be prepared and wearing my professional persona my then.

Up for the Count!

We are safely in Michigan. Tomorrow (when the Valium wears off) I will start working on IEPs. I just wanted to let you know I am back in the fight again.