Archive for the 'Parenting' Category

How to Get a Child to Go to Bed

Tell her there is a big hairy spider behind her on the couch. 🙂

Sissy is too big for me to physically pick up and put to bed, but she still needs to go at a reasonable hour so tonight after begging, pleading and threatening, I told her (with a great deal of drama, shreaking and pointing) that there was a big hairy spider behind her.

She doubted it very much but not enough to stay where she was.

Nature has been a big help to me, Sissy will not leave the house after dark because she is convinced that there are raccoons out there waiting to attack any one little (Sissy is really tiny) who walks out the door.

Works for me. 🙂

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When Did I Sign on for This?

Ask me about the counter top project…go ahead, ask me how is going.

Well, let me tell you…today I was once again reminded why I have very little that is worth owning.

I have spent days working my way up from little formica sample chips to a kitchen cart that had been headed for the Goodwill. Didn’t it look great?

I was starting to get really excited about doing the counters. I left the kitchen to give the cart time to dry.

When I went in a short while later disaster had struck. Coder (did I ever mention he is 14!) had decided to help me. He got a hold of my paint brush, sprayed it with an appliance cleaning/shining product that I use, till it was dripping, and painted it on the top of the cart, leaving it a sloppy mess with a deep 18 inch scratch! Of course he lied to me for 1/2 and hour before finally admitting what he had done. After all these years I am supposed to believe that these things occur spontaneously.

Loml thinks we can fix it, but I am so discouraged that I do not know if I even want to risk trying it with the counters now.

Once I cool off a little I may feel better about it but right now I am ready to give up on any home improvement projects.

Despair at Home

Today my banner should be all dark and gloomy clouds, the title of my blog could “Despair at Home.”

I am at my wits end.

Coder is completely out of control. (for those of you who do not believe the ADHD exists, come and spend a day at my house) Have I ever metioned that Coder is 14. 14! Who does this stuff at 14??

Highlights of the week include Coder writing on my favorite chair with a pen and trying to suck water out of the toilet with the vacuum, and then vehemently denying that he had any involvement in either incident.

Sissy…I can not even share what she did but it is gross and a care giver in my home saw fit to share with a social worker her exaggerated version of the events so now I get to deal with that as well. This behavior is nothing new, if they had read Shirley’s notes from the last 10 years they would know that, but why would anyone have bother to learn about the background of a handicapped child before coming to their home. It is so much easier to make judgements and paint me as a bad parent.

The company that works with Sissy is short staffed and the staff they have is unreliable. I can not plan anything because I have no idea from one day to the next whether or not I will have anyone here.

My business is booming but I barely have time to take care of it, unless I bring both kids with me and after tonight that will not be happening again. They were awful, rowdy, noisy pesty, my client’s wife was so sweet, she tried so hard to entertain them, but they were no better for her then they are for me.

We do not make much money and the business is what keeps us off of welfare but lately I am thinking “What’s so bad about welfare?”

I raised my two older children with minimal difficulty and what I am experiencing now is completely alien to me. I am in way over my head and have no idea what to do about it.

I don’t think I can do this anymore but I know that quitting is not an option. I want to just sit down, put my head in my hands and cry, but that too is not an option. So I will keep going, putting one foot in front of the other, left then right then left, until things get better or I am finally through.

I Have Slipped

I am embarrassed to admit that I have slipped.

All the work I had done on cleaning and organizing the house has come undone and the place is a mess…again.

I was so proud of the progress I had made. I do not think I have ever felt so positive. I really thought I had solved the problem for good.

The dinning room was lovely and I was keeping fresh flowers on the table. Now everytime I see a bouquet of flower I am mortified to think that I let it all go.

I have been asking myself what happened.

Was it because Sissy and Coder are out school? They really are high maintenance, and continually are doing things that remind why I do not home school anymore. (that’s another thing that makes me sad)

Maybe it was because my friend Mrs. Woods has needed me so much more this summer. Her other helpers have been vacationing off and on so I have done a lot more work for her then I usually do.

Or is it that my business has really been booming the last two months. Between what I make from Mrs. Woods and what I bring in myself, things definitely looking up financially.

Whatever the cause the result is the same…the house is a wreck. Now I have to start all over and I am once more asking myself whether or not anyone who is “organizationally dysfunctional,” really conquer these problems, or am I doomed to faill again and again and again….

Reflections on Agency

Now that half of my children are grown I sometimes find it difficult to let them make their own choices. Not that I have a choice in this, I can not make their choices for them and they do not always respond to my advice with “Why, your right Mother. I don’t know why I did not see that way before, Of course I will do it exactly the way you want.”

As the older boys are not even living at home I can no longer pull out my old stand by, “These are the rules in our house, as long as you live here you will follow them.”

Of course, I will speak up if I think they are really wrong, but beyond that I must sit quietly by and let them make their choices and suffer the consequences of it, or reap the rewards as the case maybe.

Sometimes I worry for them, driving home late at night, not as active in church as I think they should be, working too hard, eating too much, hanging out with people whose character I question.

With all this in mind I reflect on how our Heavenly Father may feel at the times when we rebel against he laws and teachings.

With all the power of the universe at His command, He still allows us to learn and grow, to make our choices and to learn from our mistakes. He counsels us, speaks to us through prophets and scripture, gives us revelation through the Holy Ghost, but ultimately it is up to each of us to decide what we will do with our lives, and one of the greatest gifts God has given us, our agency.

I can not deny this same agency to my adult children, even if it were in my power to do so. I can tell them what I believe to be right and I can pray for them but after all is said and done what they will make of their lives is up to them.

When the Going Gets Tough

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Eggs and Blue Bowl

I was just getting my day started this morning when the phone rang. It was Sissy’s school and they wanted me to come and get her. She had been behaving badly and had told her teacher to “Shut up!” Because of the type of work I do I was able literally drop everything and go and pick her up.

This happens a few times every year. I completely understand that they don’t want to deal with her when she is like this, neither do I, but she is my child and my responsibility and I can’t easily hand her off when the going gets tough.

I have a hard time making her spend a whole day paying for what she did in the morning. It becomes a punishment for me also, and seems like it is a little cruel to her. I have to keep her occupied, but not doing anything she enjoys. Doing fun things would be rewarding the bad behavior, but too much of the boring, not fun thing causes her to act up out of frustration and boredom, which maybe what happen at school today.

She is very bright but her decision making skills are like those of a four year old. She is amazingly impulsive and her moods change on a dime. I never know from one moment to the next what I will be dealing with. She is like the wind, the most capricious person I have ever known.

Sometimes you can see it coming, a few years ago she got away from me at the library, ran up to the second floor and shoved a big picture book through the banister of the mezzanine. I was trying to catch up to her and quietly (it’s a library, right?) telling her to come back. She turned the book sideways and could not pull it back through. She is jerking on the book and I am hissing at her to stop, while the ladies at the circulation desk below have no clue that they are in danger from my daughter, with a little help from Dr. Seuss.

I love to go camping but the time she locked herself and my bichon in a port-a-potty was more then enough for me, and my camping days are over.

Other times these things sneak up on me, waking me up from a sound sleep, “We're having omelets for breakfast!” I race down stairs to find every bowl I own scattered though out the living room, with one egg broken it each, most with plenty of shell. Two dozen eggs! I could yell and scream, or we could make omelets.

When the going gets tough the tough make omelets.