Tuesday, April 28, 2009
My Visitor
And the visitor was.....................Lisa! That is clickable. Check out her blog for great photos of her trip and the University of Washington & Seattle.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Questions Answered
Yes, my son needed meds for many many years, IMHO. However, it took until late 2007 to get the bipolar & ADD/ADHD diagnosis. With that, the doctors suggested only addressing one medical issue at a time thru meds. We felt the bipolar was the more pressing, so medicated that first, starting in 2008. Gave it a good long time, watched for side affects and negative reactions thru bloodwork. It was all a go. Went to annual physical a few weeks ago, and all discussed adding ADD/ADHD meds on board. We all went for it. Sadly, in our state of WA, a child is in charge of their mental health plan as of age 14. It's appalling and I have no idea who to beat over the head for that rule! But it is what it is. We literally cannot force him to take a single pill. It has to be his choice, and his doing, with his doctor (he's 14). Another thing that did not help is that my spouse thought and believed for over a decade that my son's problems were just a sign of my failure as a parent. Our marriage is still recovering from that. It's a long road. Dealing with a child like this, and a spouse like that. But, we are moving forward.
I do not know an exhaustive list of Tourette's symptoms. My sons are facial/motor ticks and screaming outbursts. He has sworn maybe once ever. He just freaks out and screams uncontrollably, verbally. Too much for a teacher or parent to deal with, unmedicated.
I do not know an exhaustive list of Tourette's symptoms. My sons are facial/motor ticks and screaming outbursts. He has sworn maybe once ever. He just freaks out and screams uncontrollably, verbally. Too much for a teacher or parent to deal with, unmedicated.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Favorite Blogger in Town
I'm so excited. My all time favorite blogger buddy is in town. We are meeting up today, going cycling (I have two of everything, including bikes), and seeing the sites of Seattle. Any guesses as to who is visiting? One hint: I visited her in the summer of 2007 when we testified in her state in a lawsuit. Don & Be, you are my favorite Blogger couple. When ya gonna come to town?
By the way my 14yr old started ADD/ADHD meds. It's been a miracle. He says he feels so much smarter. We think that translates to, he can focus at home and school, and can make good decisions (most of the time). That is a HUGE improvement. This is the ticket. This is his "stay out of jail" card. Not kidding. It's that much of an improvement for him. We also have doubled the mood stabilizing meds for our 10yr old (Aspergers, Tourette's), seeing as his Tourette's outbursts increased substantially last week. Going much better now that the extra meds have kicked in. Always exiting around here...............
By the way my 14yr old started ADD/ADHD meds. It's been a miracle. He says he feels so much smarter. We think that translates to, he can focus at home and school, and can make good decisions (most of the time). That is a HUGE improvement. This is the ticket. This is his "stay out of jail" card. Not kidding. It's that much of an improvement for him. We also have doubled the mood stabilizing meds for our 10yr old (Aspergers, Tourette's), seeing as his Tourette's outbursts increased substantially last week. Going much better now that the extra meds have kicked in. Always exiting around here...............
Saturday, April 4, 2009
The Invisible Mother
Found this on the Hoover's blog. It's a must read:
Invisible Mother
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm aclock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30,please.'I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude-but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!?One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return ofa friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well.It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by t heir faith that the eyes of God saw everything.A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it. And the workman replied, 'Because God sees..'I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I seethe sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does.'No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become. At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for 3 hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built,but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.Great Job, MOM!Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know...I just did. This is beautiful.
Invisible Mother
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm aclock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30,please.'I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude-but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!?One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return ofa friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well.It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by t heir faith that the eyes of God saw everything.A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it. And the workman replied, 'Because God sees..'I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I seethe sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does.'No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become. At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for 3 hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built,but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.Great Job, MOM!Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know...I just did. This is beautiful.
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