My eldest is exhausting

Posted on March 2, 2014 by middleofthemadness

He loves to bounce basketballs in the house ….near the chandelier….why hasn’t that thing broken yet?

He doesn’t quite grasp why I gasp every time his foot makes contact with the soccer ball and it goes flying…guess he’s never seen a glass door shatter….

He wants to wrestle.
He likes to trip his brothers.
He thinks football is an indoor sport.
He wants me to pick him up and throw him on the couch….and I can barely even lift his 82 pounds on the back of my light frame.
He doesn’t accept my praise unless I body-slam myself into him…a simple high-five won’t do it.
He has trouble controlling his anger and escalates battles with me until my head ignites and rockets off past the moon and orbits Saturn. Literally. Matt disney

And yet….. he is a quiet, sensitive soul.
He’s easily upset when thinking that others are teasing him.
He’s shy around new people.
He doesn’t want to go to Sunday School class because he “doesn’t know” anyone and prefers to torture me by goofing off (semi-quietly) in the back of the church space.
He cannot express his feelings very well. I can’t tell if he is feeling bullied or if he is the bully in the situations.
He’s sad that he has to sit alone at a table at lunch and hasn’t been eating his lunch during school. And that makes me sad.
He occasionally has trouble with his bowels and sometimes does soil his pants – but it’s not right that the second-grader on the bus sings out “You are a poopy-pants!”

I sat in a parking lot the other day and let huge tears splash onto my lap after a call from the principal of his school. There had been some words exchanged. Super Tall Guy wasn’t happy and struck out at the other kid (a kindergartener….) hitting him in the eye, but not hard. Super Tall’s response, “it was an accident. I didn’t hit him hard. He was bothering me.” That’s your story, eh? There’s so much pent up in there. I know there is.

The thing is…
I don’t know how to help him release it.
My heart aches for his inner pain.
My soul grieves a child in turmoil.
My brain just wants the “easy fix” – snap out of it; quit acting that way; grow up – all the things we want to say….all the things that won’t help a single bit.

We talk about the “hitting situation”….and get nowhere. I suddenly write in his Spelling book: calm, cool, collected.

Calm – focus for a minute
Cool – blow out that heat bubbling inside you
Collected – wrap your arms around yourself and collect yourself

Got it? Remember the C’s.

I don’t know. It’s a work in progress. I don’t know if this “new method” will work, but I have to keep trying. We’ve been working…and working…together for years now. I’ve read 7 or 8 parenting books and tried countless “techniques” and “words of wisdom.” We’ve done time out. We’ve done reward charts. We’ve done grounding and missed special events. Super Tall Guy doesn’t seem phased by all those attempts. I grasp for straws. I grasp for anything that will tame the beast within.

Because I know that I love the beast, the tiger, the lion, the lamb, the teddy bear….the little boy trapped within a huge body, struggling to “be good.” This week, we celebrated the adoption of my dear sweet, exhausting Super Tall Guy, and I love him more and more every single day.

This “Great Mom” is trying to teach R.E.S.P.E.C.T

Posted on September 8, 2013 by middleofthemadness

I am in a constant state of over-stimulation – though, this really isn’t news to anyone who knows me. In my life, there is constant noise barraging my eardrum…..constant motion within my peripheral vision…and constant threat of bodily harm….as 5 little breathing, screaming, flailing bodies whiz throughout the house exemplifying chaos theory in action.

And I am an introvert, making my life overwhelming and basically exhausting.

Tuesday morning, I stood at the bus stop with two bouncy boys feeling so happy to be saying goodbye to them….even though I was heading straight to work. I turned to the mother beside me and asked how their holiday weekend had been. She replied that they had a nice day just “chilling at home.” I paused and considered how delightful that word sounded….”chilling”…. Then I laughed and told her, “we never chill at home. If we stay in the house, the 5 boys eventually start to kill each other. There’s no chilling. We must get out of the house at all costs!”

A very tired Mr. Ornery

It’s a constant balancing act in the kids’ need for stimulation and my need to decrease the stimulation. I realized that it’s something almost always on my mind in terms of how much stimulation each of the kids is getting and what level “works” or doesn’t work for them. When Super Tall Guy becomes overstimulated, he falls apart into angry outbursts that usually result in objects soaring through space or a contusion to a brother or mother. I’d love to prevent these, but have trouble anticipating them (though we had 3 of them this past week, which is a record high of late!). Mr. Ornery, as one might expect, becomes even more ornery and devilish when he’s over-stimulated and over-tired. He has a couple times, though, asked questions like, “it’s pretty late, isn’t it?” or “it’s past my bedtime, right?” – to which I respond, “oh my, yes, we better get to bed” – and that seems to be just what he needs. And, The Little Guy…I can’t tell yet what his threshold is…he seems to be able to function in the mania that exists within the house.

Somehow, we must have blown right past Super Tall Guy’s ability to regulate stimulation this week. We had a knock-down 20-min battle on Wednesday and topped it off with 2 of them on Saturday. Thinking myself quite wise…after he tossed his spit at me during the morning rage….I proclaimed his punishment would be to clean the bathroom. As this is a new “skill” for him, it required much supervision and much biting of my tongue and refraining from yelling “just let me do it!!” I thought I had done well with the consequence to misbehavior, until he eagerly asked when he could clean the bathroom again! (don’t worry – I know – this enthusiasm will wane rapidly and scrubbing toilets will eventually become an undesired consequence…).

So, after dealing with two rage episodes yesterday, Super Tall Guy was banned from TV today and grounded from going anywhere (which takes me right back to “how kids punish you” – I try to discipline them….makes my life more difficult!!). I meditated some this morning about how to help Super Tall Guy work on finding control….and my mind drifted to the fact that he is really not showing respect for me or his siblings. I came up with a little mantra to think about some of the things I’d like my boys to be doing. My vision (of a great mother who puts her foot down) was to call a “Family Meeting” and review this concept…..but in the chaos of the day (Steeler loss despite hours and hours of football throwing practice inside the house, playing outside – in and out, in and out, mopping up watermelon and mopping up watermelon, rubber-band jump-rope and run around the inside track course to jump jump-rope, inside and out, inside and out), we somehow never got to it.

So I plan to work on being a great Mom tomorrow and see how that strategy works. At least my boys let me try a great deal of new techniques!

And the baby freezes….

Posted on June 16, 2013 by middleofthemadness

In preparation for a workshop I gave last week for the crisis nursery project, I was reading about coping strategies that people use when they feel under threat. It’s interesting to think about how we develop some strategies as young children that carry over into adulthood. And some strategies that were helpful when we were young are not helpful as an adult and yet we keep trying them.

We’re all pretty familiar with the “fight vs. flight” mechanism when facing a threatening situation – and it doesn’t even have to be the black bear that was wondering the city neighborhood last week. Less well known is the “freeze” aspect of coping in which the individual takes no action – not always helpful for a bear sighting, but interestingly, this is the strategy that first develops in the young child and infant. This makes sense since the baby can’t get up and walk away (or run) and has no strength to fight….but if under tremendous or constant stress, this style becomes an ingrained coping mechanism.

Last Monday morning, I sat in the waiting room at the hospital’s dental clinic for Seth’s appointment. He played happily watching the fish swim from one tank to the next, knocking himself silly for not ducking under the connecting tube, or tripping over the slight ramp. I did my usual – people watching….always fascinating. Sometimes I even watched my own kid to be sure he was still in the general area and hadn’t knocked himself unconscious yet.

After watching numerous people emerge from the clinic area and talk with waiting relatives or on the phone, I had this sense of “gosh, these people are real grumps. Is it a Monday morning problem or do they have really poor coping mechanisms? Such negativity….” (very judgmental of me sitting there…)

Well, fifteen minutes after being called in….I was one of those grumpy, not coping well people. The dental resident saw Seth for 1.5 minutes, said “yep, tooth’s got to come out” (very good – this was my third professional opinion) and “too bad he ate breakfast or I could have done it now since I have an opening.” Right…turns out very bad. Little did I know when walking happily out of the exam room that my sense of homeostasis was about to be challenged when I was offered an appointment TWO MONTHS later to pull his tooth!

I did a bit of the “freeze” mechanism….or was that shock? And then spent the next 2 days in “fight” mode. There was no way I was going to let my 2-year-old walk around for 2 months with a broken front tooth. I called other dentists. I called the insurance company. I called the head of the hospital dental department. In the midst of this, there was a cancellation and Seth was on the schedule for extraction on Friday. All went smoothly and he has a cute little hole in the front when he smiles.

But I did not have a smooth week at all. It’s amazing how much energy being a “grumpy, unhappy parent” consumes. Yet, there really wasn’t any other option than to keep pursuing the issue. Seth certainly had no ability to say “gosh, mom, this broken tooth is a bit annoying and occasionally painful….and you can keep saying I’m clumsy and grumpy and tired from the vacation….but you don’t really know what’s bothering me, do you? (despite what your blog says last week!!)” And so – I carry his stress within my heart.

Hmmm….I was about to type that the “freeze” is about his only coping mechanism – but that is not actually true. He’s very good at the “fight” – crosses his arms in front of his body, stamps his foot and says “bad” in a most grumpy tone. He’s pretty good at flight too if I mention the word “diaper.” I’d have to say he’s quite well-rounded in developing his coping styles – but it’s not really helping him in the world yet. To navigate the broken tooth, to manage the hygiene, to access his nourishment, to dress, to travel….all that still requires me. No wonder two-year-olds are so frustrated and so frustrating!

So he and I are ready to face another week. I’m going to work on managing my coping strategies, he’s going to work on developing some new ones, and we are going to continue to hug and kiss and say “I wuv you, Mommy.”

PS – a snapshot of Seth this month would make you shake your head. So pathetic looking. His left eye squints in the sunshine (strabismus), his left front tooth is gone, and his left knee has 3 scrapes now and dried-on, now-blackened geometric patterns where the band-aids used to be…Just makes you pick him up and say “poor baby!” Sam+bunny But the Tooth Fairy did leave him a toothless bunny (since cousin Ryan reminded me that the Tooth Fairy always leaves a present for the first tooth!).

Soft snow and single parenting

Posted on February 3, 2013 by middleofthemadness

We are looking at rental properties and Kathy mentioned the possibility of us splitting to find cheaper housing. After having spent the week alone with my three while she and our mom took her boys to Disney, I replied, “we’d have to be right beside each other then.” Spending a week being a truly single mom – was truly stressful to me.

Single parenting….

It’s stressful when you have a kid in school and have to deal with sudden changes – oh, a 2-hour-delay for freezing rain; no after school programming for a couple days, anything else you want to throw at me?

It’s stressful when viruses are running amuck and you don’t know who and when is going to fall next. Micah had two evenings of low-grade fever, headaches and went to bed early, but I still wasn’t ready to call him sick since I was single parenting (so I just had to keep worrying that he was “getting sick”!).

It’s stressful when there are two grants due on the same day for my crisis nursery work (and I’ve never written grants before). I got 3 hours of sleep Tuesday night and 2 hours of sleep Wednesday night – and as you can imagine, this lack of sleep was not helping my parenting skills.

It’s stressful when you pick up the pen and sign your name that you are prepared to accept the responsibility of adopting another boy. You pick up the pen. You sign. A good stress….but a stress nonetheless.

And it’s stressful to worry about said boy who hasn’t gained weight in over 6 months so you’re just starting him on pediasure (to bulk him up) and spending the week wondering whether the phenomenal amount of blood letting they did last week will reveal any answers. (Update – All negative – he’s currently a perfectly healthy (runny-nosed) teeny, tiny little guy).

I spent the whole week with stress hanging over my shoulders about what I would do (and how life would have to be juggled) if just one piece fell out of my finely balanced tower. And if you’re living in stress and constantly under pressure and not sleeping for the week, the time moves by without much chance to catch up to it.

“Snow softly falling.” pinterest.com

Yet, as I drove to church this morning, I noticed my body soften looking at the beauty of the new snow on the world. I thought about the tranquility of watching snow fall through the yellow glare of a street light (I will often pause and stare for the longest time at this softness). I thought about how I love winter when it lets you slow down. You stay home because you don’t want to be out “in that.” You dream of a huge warm fireplace (next house?). It seems that the world should pause for a moment longer after the rush of the holidays. Yes, we tend to schedule fewer events and the weather tends to cancel schools and meetings and work. And maybe we should all follow nature’s rhythm of taking a break in the winter – resting, hibernating, rejuvenating, preparing….

Maybe I should become a tree.

Here’s to hoping for some earth-stopping blizzards in February! (just kidding!)

Surprise…again

Posted on January 27, 2013 by middleofthemadness

I guess kids should surprise you. I mean, why wouldn’t they? They are their own little independent selves, interacting with a world from the perspective of adult knees and trying to make sense out of the chaos of noise, lights, movement and touch that surrounds them constantly.

They are naturally built to focus in on certain things. They know to look at the human face to read emotion. They know to pay attention when enumeration begins, but that it’s possible to ignore for quite some time the word that’s supposed to signify their identity (ie, the eldest responds to “One….” much faster than he answers to “Micah….”). They know that if they crawl into bed at 2 am and say they’re “scared,” the warm body there will accept them and drape an arm over them in protection. They know that the relationship between a mother and her child is vital to the child’s survival and they will attempt to repair it whenever needed.

But they also seem to know that it’s pretty unconditional – and that relationship can be pushed pretty far and stretched out and pulled and yanked… and yet the coil will still spring back. So my kids love to check the pull of this coil. They love to see how loudly they can screech as they chase each other around the loop of the house. They love to test how much water is too much water out of the bathtub as they splash gleefully. They like to explore the effects of cheerios flying through the air and scattering upon the carpet and then eating them up “like doggies.” They like to measure how frequently the word “no” can be said before it is followed by a long tirade of how and why “no means no,” or a distinct rise in the ending tone of the word, or a movement of a large parent towards them to block their original goal.

It still surprises me, though, when Micah has one of his really big blow-outs. Like this afternoon, when we decided to get into the car and go someplace fun, but he gets upset and starts the fight with removing his seatbelt as we’re driving 50 mph. This calls for an immediate pull off the road and a discussion on safety….and yet it’s followed by repeated hitting of his brother, taking off the seatbelt and throwing things in the car. Each time, I pull over and remove him from the car. I breathe deeply. I count to 10. I try to remember all those tips from numerous parenting books (none of which has mentioned specifically how to handle a size 2 boy shoe thrown at the back of one’s head while driving…hmmm….). We work ourselves up to 4 hours of time-out upstairs by the time we’ve spent 40 minutes in and out of the car… going nowhere. I feel bad for the other two in the car. And when Micah and I finally talk about it later and I ask “why,” he says, “my brain tells me to be bad.” Okay – what do I say to that?

Gosh, I’m glad he doesn’t surprise me too often with this. But it does stop me in my tracks. I start to wonder what’s going on…and if I’m supposed to be doing something else with him. Am I working too hard and ignoring my kids? Should we go back to therapy? Does this kid need something else? What sparked all that? Is this something I’m triggering or continuing? Is he starting to react to the stress of the craziness that is hitting our lives recently?

I prefer the surprise of being called to “look what we did!” and finding car tracks encircling the bathtub. And sharing the joy of creating something new out of connecting toys. And smiling at the surprise of making a tunnel under a pile of snow. And giggling together over a video of funny cat tricks. I so often hear the phrase “oh, the joys of parenting” and there are many joys for sure, but the sarcastic tone that sometimes accompanies that phrase is also very true some times. There are some “joys” that are hard to handle. But the coil always snaps back into place….

It is a very tight coil built of the strongest material ever – love.

(8:00 pm addendum: Now I’m wondering if today’s blow-up was a harbinger of illness. Micah fell asleep on the couch at 6 after complaining of “being cold” which he never is and a headache. Sigh. Gotta love these viral-infested little guys!)

Happening just so fast!

Posted on January 14, 2013 by middleofthemadness

I got home at midnight tonight (well, technically, 11:46pm) from a grant-writing meeting (another story) and had to rearrange two boys. I carried Micah up from his snoring paradise on my sister’s bed to my bed (lacking sheets which are still in the laundry due to Micah’s occasional pull-up failure) and I picked Noah up off the tiny floor rug outside his room and placed him in the snuggly arms of a huge brown stuffed-animal bear which Seth is too scared of to claim as his Christmas present.

As I carried the boys, I thought how strange it is going to be soon to change this routine – because our house just sold!! Yes, we’re shocked. It’s been on the market for two years. I’ve been mentally exhausted just thinking about it. I’ve been physically exhausted by all the cleaning for showings (and by carrying boxes and boxes of things downstairs to “hide,” only to find them months later and food past its expiration dates!). And yet, now that the reality is here, I can’t even adjust to it. Of course, I’ve been too busy to even think about it (or even to celebrate it – though we did pop the bottle of bubbly….sparkling apple juice….that was in the fridge for the boys!!).

Congratulations!

But now the questions begin. How in the world are we going to get this house packed up in the next 6 weeks? (Guess those boxes I kept carrying to the basement are all ready to go!) Where in the world are we going to move? (That seems like a relatively important question…) And how am I going to help the boys transition through this? (Was Micah’s aggressive acting out today a response to the shift in stress and energy that he felt move through the house?) Why am I feeling depressed even though I’ve been so eager to move? (Change is hard….and this house is huge – and we won’t find such space anywhere else…and this is all going to take a great deal of energy….)

As if this isn’t enough for my poor brain to process….it follows closely on the heels of finding out that the “Termination of Parental Rights” went through for Seth. He is cleared for adoption. I am cleared for adopting him. The caseworker came to visit the night the offer came in for the house. I did hear about it via email on Monday (though the court hearing was last Friday…and I had to wait nervously all weekend to get the results!). Monday was a busy evening and I quickly made a cake from a mix that I found (not expired in the basement) and since I couldn’t find the frosting tubes, I wrote out “TPR” in M&Ms (red and green from Christmas) on the top. Lit some candles, took some pictures, let boys dig into chocolate gooey mess….there – we acknowledged it.

But it’s all just moving. So fast. And I can’t keep up with processing through it yet. For the past 20 months, I have been Seth’s mom (even if he calls Kathy “mommy” too sometimes….). He has been my son. He has been the brother of the boys. He has already gone through a name change. But next month, he will officially change his name (not him….but the judge will sign a piece of paper….and a new birth certificate will be printed….and a woman named Hannah will no longer have any documentation of having a little boy….three little boys…..). And a few weeks later, I will receive a piece of paper that has Lynne listed as “legal mother” under Seth’s name and birthdate and an “Adoption Certificate” which proclaims that this happened February 12^th, 2013.

And I will say “whew,” and then it might sink in. That Seth is forever part of my family. That the man who thought he was biological father until proven otherwise is now part of history. That there will be no more “odd” visitations to the county jail for Seth to spend time with a stranger (his birth mom). That I can call him “my son” without the qualifier “foster….who will hopefully be adopted”… That I am now responsible for three wild and wonderful boys. Oh boy.

At the beginning of the year, I sent an email to a friend:
My dreams for this year:
– adopt Seth
– sell this house and move!
– open up Jeremiah’s Place – the crisis nursery

Let’s see how that all works.

What I didn’t mean is for all of this to happen in the first months of the year (the crisis nursery project has taken off and I have two grants due at the end of the month….even though I have no idea how to write a grant!!!).

What I do know is that I’m going to have to find time to let all of this sink in. That I’m going to have to find ways to help the older boys let this all sink in. That as I become harried and stressed, that the boys will pick up on that and feel harried and stressed as well. So, instead of starting the packing….instead of searching for a house to rent on the internet….instead of doing anything productive, I let the boys play outside in the “snow box” while I cleaned out the car.

Such gooey brown slime

Slouching in the recesses of the cup holder

You let go of the smothered keys with a long stranded release

I wash you out with clean pure water.

Oh, wrinkly brown grapes

Hiding under the car seat mat

You dream of becoming raisins in the sun

I toss you out with the hardened cheese.

Dear crumbs, crumbs, crumbs

Sprinkling the floor, the seats, the mats

You long for relief from the trampling of feet

I suck you out with the green vacuum.

Oh car, my dearest van —

You seem so clean today.

Why don’t we drive off tomorrow…

Without the boys!

The Gift of Time

Posted on December 31, 2012 by middleofthemadness

Time….

It is a very strange thing. Sometimes time flies….sometimes it stands still.

Last Monday (Christmas Eve), I took Noah with me on a last-minute shopping excursion (very silly idea….why would I want a 3-year-old running errands with me?!?). It certainly altered time. Choosing the “family” personalized ornament occurred much more quickly than usual, as my contemplation was constantly interrupted by the need to vocalize “don’t touch; don’t touch” rather than focusing on which one to choose! Leaving the mall took much longer than usual as we had go up and down the escalator….and then ride the train (“please, Mommy, please”), and walk slowly through the people, and stop at the candy machine (I spoil on Holidays :)) ….but I did refuse to give an hour of time to wait for a photo with Santa.

Christmas Day was absolute chaos. I realize I had told a friend the prior Sunday that we were having a “small and quiet” Christmas since it was just our family and my parents. But there’s nothing quiet about 5 little boys…..nothing quiet!…and very little seems “small” when they are awake and moving!

When most of the rapid ripping off of wrapping paper, incessant clambering about “where’s another present for me?” and nonstop squealing and yelling had finally driven me into the kitchen for a moment, I was shocked to see that it was only 10 o’clock. How could time stand still within all this commotion?!? Fortunately, it sped up from there.

And time interacts with stress in unique ways (holidays provide plenty of “positive stress”). We enjoyed a lovely Christmas Eve service accompanied by candlelight, but I wanted time to hurry up as I stressed about burning down the church. Christmas Day was a stress to all and each boy handled it differently. Micah couldn’t control his behavior and required banishment time (to the tune of about 3 hours) to take a break upstairs. Noah had trouble remembering to take the time to GO to the bathroom….ahem…and forgot to take those needed breaks. Seth, however, was granted a timely nap from the utter confusion of flying wrapping paper, noisy new toys, bouncing balls, and excited squeals of joy. I could barely move by 7pm and collapsed into a sound sleep before 9 after bedding three exhausted ones.

Wednesday was a golden day, however. The snow fell softly and steadily. There was no thought of leaving the house. The boys played happily together with their new toys (how very strange) and we all just enjoyed seemingly endless “time” together.

Despite thinking that 5 days with the boys would be quite enough time, when I dropped Noah and Seth off at daycare Thursday morning, I walked out with tears in my eyes. I had so enjoyed my time with them that I didn’t want to part with them to return to work. I made it through half the day before I picked them up again. Noah was thrilled that he only had a “little time” at daycare.

Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve. I could be cliché and say “where has the time gone?” Where has this year gone? Where did December go ….and how did Christmas slip by so quickly?

But I could also say that I have enjoyed the time I’ve had with the boys this past week. I’ve enjoyed the months that I’ve had with the boys this past year. And I’ve enjoyed so many little minutes and so many moments with the boys….those that you tuck away in your heart. Those moments that you take the time that you didn’t expect to. When you lay on the living room floor for 5 minutes with Noah and set the camera’s timer and make goofy faces together….and say to yourself, I know it’s bedtime….but this time is precious. These smiles are precious. This joy is precious. These boys are precious.

A long time ago, a little baby boy was born in a manger. Time stood still that night. Time flew over the next two thousand and twelve years. Time is really a gift that we have – to love, to cherish, to celebrate and to do great things. May we remember to take the time when we need to, use the time we have wisely, and share the gift of time with those we love whenever we can.

middleofthemadness

Mothering – in the middle of the madness of boys!

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