Him: Why do I have to clean my room?
Me: Because it's messy.
Him:Why can't I play video games first, then clean my room later?
Me: Because that's how your room got so messy while I was gone. Later never comes for you.
(5 minutes passes)
Him: But you said yesterday that I could play video games when I got home from school.
Me:I said you could play video games after your room was cleaned.
(Crashing and banging sounds come from his room)
Him: Do you know why it takes me so long to clean my room?
Me: Yes.
Him: Well??? Do you?
Me:Yes.
Him: If you know, why won't you tell me?
Me: I do know, and I'll tell you when your room is clean.
Him: I have ADHD you know, and it's hard for me to concentrate.
Me: Yeah, that sucks. Go clean your room.
(Stomps off to his room)
5 minutes later:
Him: Come see how much I've done.
Me: No thanks, I'll wait for the grand finale.
Him: How come she gets to watch tv?
Me: She finished cleaning her room already. You can start by putting all your dirty clothes in a laundry basket.
Him: Where's a laundry basket?
Me: I bet you could figure that out if you thought for at least 10 seconds.
Him: (Stomps off to the laundry room and returns empty handed)
Me: Go get a laundry basket.
Him: (Takes one dirty sock and puts it in the laundry basket in the laundry room - comes back empty handed.)
Me: Go. Get. A. Laundry. Basket. And. Bring. It. Back. To. Your. Room.
Him: (Comes back with a laundry basket.)
Me: Now put the dirty clothes in the basket. Do NOT include toys, belts, food, rocks, magnets, dead bugs, or anything that could melt in the dryer.
Him: (Rolls around on the floor attempting to pick up things with his teeth)
Me: Get up and pick up the clothes with your hands.
Him: My tummy hurts.
Me: Get up and pick up the clothes with your hands and put them in the laundry basket.
Him: All of them? But they're not all dirty. I'm going to die and die and die all day long.
Me: Well at least your room will be clean when you're dead.
Him: That's not nice you know.
Me: (I'm distracted by a phone call)
Him: (He's now using the laundry basket to help pretend he's a turtle, and slowly creeps into the living room to argue with his sister that he gets to play video games and she can't watch the Suite Life on Deck. As if I won't notice an upside down laundry basket moving across the floor.)
Me: (Hangs up from phone call) Ok, into your room turtle boy. (I proceed to tell him item by item which one to pick up and put where.)
Him: Aren't you done yet?
Me: Very funny.
(After only about 5 minutes, his room is done.)
Him: Next time, could you please sort my Lego by characters? I don't want the Star Wars mixed in with Indiana Jones.
Me: Yeah, like that's gonna happen. Go play your video game. I need a cup of tea.
Welcome to the AFABC Interior Region Blog. Check back here often for resources, events, and discussions on contemporary adoption issues.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Anxiety....
It's almost like clockwork. It's so predictable. And yet I hate that it's so predictable.
It's been at least 18 months since my husband and I have had a break from the tag team parenting that is necessary with my middle daughter. Despite her being 12 years old, we can never leave her alone. Not even to run into town to pick up milk. Not even to leave her in the car while I run into the store to pick up milk.
She is always either with my husband or me. But finally we scraped enough $$ together to head off to Vancouver for the weekend, and pay someone to come stay with the youngest two. My older daughter has soccer all weekend so she's staying with a team mate. Our respite provider's name is Gayle, and she is wonderful! Year's ago, when my daughter was in grade two, Gayle was her EA. She's efficient, follows the plan, she's kind, she's reliable. And...she's a registered nurse. So maintaining the diabetes care isn't anything new to her, and doing respite for us helps her by adding to her nursing hours.
So what's the problem? Where does the anxiety come in? Today at school my daughter's blood sugars started rising and by lunch time they were high. As per the care plan the EA phones me, I tell her how much insulin my daughter needs to give herself, the EA watches while my daughter administers it to herself, and we move on. Except when the blood sugars are this high I ask the EA to re-test in 30 min. and phone me with the results. Thirty minutes later the EA phones, her blood sugar is still going up, so we correct it again. Thirty minutes later the EA phones and now the blood sugar has gone up significantly, despite a mass quantity of insulin that has been administered. And of course the kids aren't actually at the school, they're on a field trip 30 minutes away. I was going to go get her, but the school bus was coming to pick them up in a few minutes anyways so we agreed to meet at the school. As they pull into the school she re-tests and finally the sugars are dropping. Two hours has elapsed. If the sugars hadn't been going down we would have been on our way to the emergency room.
This type of prolonged high blood sugar is not from eating food and not giving herself insulin. This is what happens when she is anxious. She knows we're going away and even though she knows Gayle, and she will be in her own home her body goes into panic mode. And typical of my daughter, when asked about it she says she feels fine. (This is what the psychiatrist refers to when he says she disassociates). In her mind, nothing has happened. She doesn't even "feel" any of the symptoms of high blood sugar. Not physically, not emotionally. She has totally removed herself from the experience.
It's exhausting as a mom. I was all prepared to cancel room reservations in Vancouver and phone and make one at ICU. What will happen tomorrow at school? Will it be a repeat of today? Or will it be a typical day for her? Your guess is as good as mine. Will we still go away? Yes, but we're always prepared to turn around and come home on a moment's notice. So even though it's supposed to be a weekend without thinking about our kids and their issues, I know I will be.
But for now, I'll be thinking about where we should eat in Vancouver, deciding if we should go to the Whitecaps game on Saturday or see a show. I'll be inspecting funky shops on West 4th and having coffee and chocolate on South Granville. But I will always be listeing for my phone to ring.
It's been at least 18 months since my husband and I have had a break from the tag team parenting that is necessary with my middle daughter. Despite her being 12 years old, we can never leave her alone. Not even to run into town to pick up milk. Not even to leave her in the car while I run into the store to pick up milk.
She is always either with my husband or me. But finally we scraped enough $$ together to head off to Vancouver for the weekend, and pay someone to come stay with the youngest two. My older daughter has soccer all weekend so she's staying with a team mate. Our respite provider's name is Gayle, and she is wonderful! Year's ago, when my daughter was in grade two, Gayle was her EA. She's efficient, follows the plan, she's kind, she's reliable. And...she's a registered nurse. So maintaining the diabetes care isn't anything new to her, and doing respite for us helps her by adding to her nursing hours.
So what's the problem? Where does the anxiety come in? Today at school my daughter's blood sugars started rising and by lunch time they were high. As per the care plan the EA phones me, I tell her how much insulin my daughter needs to give herself, the EA watches while my daughter administers it to herself, and we move on. Except when the blood sugars are this high I ask the EA to re-test in 30 min. and phone me with the results. Thirty minutes later the EA phones, her blood sugar is still going up, so we correct it again. Thirty minutes later the EA phones and now the blood sugar has gone up significantly, despite a mass quantity of insulin that has been administered. And of course the kids aren't actually at the school, they're on a field trip 30 minutes away. I was going to go get her, but the school bus was coming to pick them up in a few minutes anyways so we agreed to meet at the school. As they pull into the school she re-tests and finally the sugars are dropping. Two hours has elapsed. If the sugars hadn't been going down we would have been on our way to the emergency room.
This type of prolonged high blood sugar is not from eating food and not giving herself insulin. This is what happens when she is anxious. She knows we're going away and even though she knows Gayle, and she will be in her own home her body goes into panic mode. And typical of my daughter, when asked about it she says she feels fine. (This is what the psychiatrist refers to when he says she disassociates). In her mind, nothing has happened. She doesn't even "feel" any of the symptoms of high blood sugar. Not physically, not emotionally. She has totally removed herself from the experience.
It's exhausting as a mom. I was all prepared to cancel room reservations in Vancouver and phone and make one at ICU. What will happen tomorrow at school? Will it be a repeat of today? Or will it be a typical day for her? Your guess is as good as mine. Will we still go away? Yes, but we're always prepared to turn around and come home on a moment's notice. So even though it's supposed to be a weekend without thinking about our kids and their issues, I know I will be.
But for now, I'll be thinking about where we should eat in Vancouver, deciding if we should go to the Whitecaps game on Saturday or see a show. I'll be inspecting funky shops on West 4th and having coffee and chocolate on South Granville. But I will always be listeing for my phone to ring.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
"Knock Knock"
As I was searching my child's room last night for contraband, I came across a book I hadn't seen for quite awhile. "Everyone's Favorite Knock Knock Jokes". Really? Everyone's Favorite? There is no such thing. Knock Knock jokes are just another tool in our kids' arsenals designed to drive us crazy.
Oh sure, it's cute the first few times. And when it's someone else's kid who is obsessed with knock knock jokes, it's hilarious. However, anyone who gives a kid a book on knock knock jokes is right up there with the people who give our kids harmonicas, drums, tamborines and maracas. It's a socially acceptable form of torture for the parents.
As I recall, this particular book of knock knock jokes came into our possession from the regional library staff where I had signed my kids up for the summer reading program a few years ago. You know, it was one of those programs designed to encourage kids to read over the summer with reward charts, stickers, group activities....all those things designed for the typical child. And for lots of kids it is a wonderful program. My oldest daughter for example, loved it and thrived in that atmosphere. Well, for my other two...let's just say it was an exercise in futility. While other parents snuck off for coffee while their kids were in the group (personally I think "coffee" was a code word for the pub!), I had to stay and try and contain my youngest child. My middle child was so overwhelmed that she just followed her older sister around and I figured at least this way she was getting some type of social contact.
Picture this: it's a beautiful summer evening...there's a group of kids sitting on the grass listening to the librarian read them a story and using puppets. The kids are entranced with the story and the puppets...except for two of my kids. One is staring off into space. My son is sitting in the middle of the group pulling his t-shirt over his knees so he's able to transform himself into a ball - a wrecking ball. He proceeds to try to roll around like this and in the process hits several of the little girls in their pretty little summer dresses who are trying to hear the story and watch the puppet show. I think about pretending I don't know him, but we are already well known in the library (not necessarily for our reading) so I have to weave my way through the kids and try and remove my child, who refuses to stop being a ball, so I have to try and pick him up and carry him out of the crowd. Needless to say ths does disrupt the flow of the story and even the puppets are looking annoyed.
Mercifully the story soon ends and it's time for the librarian to draw names for prizes. (Why oh why do they do this with so many little ones there? Not everyone gets a prize which is a great concept for kids to learn, but for the little ones it only causes tantrums and tears.) And guess who wins a prize? My son. And what does she give him? A giant book of knock knock jokes.
Ok, so librarians have to get their revenge somehow, but really? That's just cruel.
It's all coming back to me now. I think it was me who hid that book. Can you blame me?
Oh sure, it's cute the first few times. And when it's someone else's kid who is obsessed with knock knock jokes, it's hilarious. However, anyone who gives a kid a book on knock knock jokes is right up there with the people who give our kids harmonicas, drums, tamborines and maracas. It's a socially acceptable form of torture for the parents.
As I recall, this particular book of knock knock jokes came into our possession from the regional library staff where I had signed my kids up for the summer reading program a few years ago. You know, it was one of those programs designed to encourage kids to read over the summer with reward charts, stickers, group activities....all those things designed for the typical child. And for lots of kids it is a wonderful program. My oldest daughter for example, loved it and thrived in that atmosphere. Well, for my other two...let's just say it was an exercise in futility. While other parents snuck off for coffee while their kids were in the group (personally I think "coffee" was a code word for the pub!), I had to stay and try and contain my youngest child. My middle child was so overwhelmed that she just followed her older sister around and I figured at least this way she was getting some type of social contact.
Picture this: it's a beautiful summer evening...there's a group of kids sitting on the grass listening to the librarian read them a story and using puppets. The kids are entranced with the story and the puppets...except for two of my kids. One is staring off into space. My son is sitting in the middle of the group pulling his t-shirt over his knees so he's able to transform himself into a ball - a wrecking ball. He proceeds to try to roll around like this and in the process hits several of the little girls in their pretty little summer dresses who are trying to hear the story and watch the puppet show. I think about pretending I don't know him, but we are already well known in the library (not necessarily for our reading) so I have to weave my way through the kids and try and remove my child, who refuses to stop being a ball, so I have to try and pick him up and carry him out of the crowd. Needless to say ths does disrupt the flow of the story and even the puppets are looking annoyed.
Mercifully the story soon ends and it's time for the librarian to draw names for prizes. (Why oh why do they do this with so many little ones there? Not everyone gets a prize which is a great concept for kids to learn, but for the little ones it only causes tantrums and tears.) And guess who wins a prize? My son. And what does she give him? A giant book of knock knock jokes.
Ok, so librarians have to get their revenge somehow, but really? That's just cruel.
It's all coming back to me now. I think it was me who hid that book. Can you blame me?
Monday, May 2, 2011
We Need To Talk About Kevin
This is an amazing book, and one I would recommend to anyone and everyone. It's one of the few books I've read that I literally couldn't put down, and even after I finished reading it I couldn't stop thinking about it for weeks.
The story is about a fictional school massacre written from the mother's perspective, and how she tries to come to terms with her son and the murders he's committed. It's written in the form of letters to her estranged husband.
It may sound rather strange, and perhaps it is. However the writing is so well done, and you can empathize with the mother as she takes you on an extremely emotional journey of her son's life. It also speaks volumes about attachment. The mother was very ambivalent about her pregnancy, and this book forces you to think about how that influenced her son's development - nature vs. nurture.
Should be blame the mother, or perhaps the easily manipulated father who thought his son could do nothing wrong? Or was Kevin born a sociopath?
If you get a chance to read this book, let me know your thoughts.
True Colours Mehaber Camp September 2011
Come camping with us! All families with children of African heritage are invited to join in our second annual family camp. We're taking over Whatshan Lake Retreat (www.whatshan.com) and we'd love to see you there.
Whatshan Lake Retreat has generously offered up their entire facility for True Colours - Mehaber. We have reserved all the cabins and campsites for our families, as well as the Whispering Pines Concession. It includes a covered picnic area, refrigerators, freezer, cooler, microwave, outdoor grill and propane stove. Men's and women's washrooms with coin-operated showers are also included.
A camp fee of $55 per family has been added to the cabin/campsite cost to help with this expense. (If you are sharing a cabin with another family, please also purchase the camp fee separately. All families participating are required to pay the $55 camp fee.)
Your camp fee also includes a bbq dinner on Sunday night - hot dogs and burgers included - please bring a salad or dessert to share!
Note: All reservations MUST be done through this site.
http://2011truecoloursmehaber.eventbrite.com/
Whatshan Lake Retreat has generously offered up their entire facility for True Colours - Mehaber. We have reserved all the cabins and campsites for our families, as well as the Whispering Pines Concession. It includes a covered picnic area, refrigerators, freezer, cooler, microwave, outdoor grill and propane stove. Men's and women's washrooms with coin-operated showers are also included.
A camp fee of $55 per family has been added to the cabin/campsite cost to help with this expense. (If you are sharing a cabin with another family, please also purchase the camp fee separately. All families participating are required to pay the $55 camp fee.)
Your camp fee also includes a bbq dinner on Sunday night - hot dogs and burgers included - please bring a salad or dessert to share!
Note: All reservations MUST be done through this site.
http://2011truecoloursmehaber.eventbrite.com/
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