Broken but Not Beaten

This blog has been an outlet for my fears about my son's Tourette's.  It has been an outlet when I went through my divorce back in 2007.  It helped me navigate the severe depression after the divorce.  I have made some amazing blogger chicks from Canada to New Zealand.  So I feel it only fitting to share my current broken state.  And that of TheBoy and LilBro, too.

A month after the wedding of the decade, I discovered that things were not as wonderful as they seemed.  I convinced myself I was paranoid from my previous experience in 2007.  I can't bring myself to go into details here.  But the reconciliation, dating, and wedding were all done within huge lies.  A fun little kicker is I found this out after finally trusting my gut and digging - all the while feeling like I was being a bad wife by digging.  Four days after having legally changed my last name.  Good times.

So, while I am still technically married in the eyes of the state in which I live, my "husband" lives with friends.  TheMan, TheBoy, LilBro and I are all in therapy.  I am watching TheBoy spiral dangerously in depression.  He and I have gotten help both emotionally and medicinally.  But at his age (14) you heap all the normal confusion of being teen with a major family trauma and potential RE-divorce of his parents...it's bad.  His anxiety attacks that had been gone for years have undone him enough to miss a lot of school.  LilBro's anxiety manifests in a much less obvious way.  His teacher informed me that it's off the charts in the form of obsessing over time and schedules.  But he's keeping his grades up and is pretty happy over all.  He's 10.  He's still hoping dad will come back home.

Here is one reason I'm sharing this even though I haven't shared this with all friends and family yet.  If you for one second think that God had a hand in this horror show, stop right now.  If you feel any anger toward God for "letting this happen" to me?  Don't.

There has not been ONE SECOND where I've thought God did this or wondered why he let this happen to me.  I will tell you what I've told other friends and family members.

First and foremost - no matter what hell on earth may happen?  GOD IS ON HIS THRONE.  Don't think for one second that some disaster or evil proves otherwise.

Second - God had no hand in the lies and betrayal perpetrated by TheMan and another "friend" of ours.  That was all the enemy.  The prince of stupidity.  Satan, the devil whatever you want to name him.  He saw the bright beacon our family was for God and he threw something irresistible in front of the weakest member.  Not my kids.  No, he went for the new believer: TheMan.  It's what he does when he's scared that something is about to Shine for God.  He knew TheMan still had major broken wounds and he played to those.

Third - God will always lay out amazingly perfect plans for each of us.  And then each of us uses the free will God gave us to walk the path he laid for us, to walk kind of NEXT to it, to walk away from it, or to reject it altogether.  That is US, man.  We all do it.  I did it for years.  I walked close enough to God's path to fool myself that I was ok because, hey, I could still SEE it!  Granted, I had to look to the side to see it.  But still!  I could see it.  No, God always plans goodness for each of us.  And some of us don't trust it because, you know, God can't be THAT nice, right?  And some of us are broken and scarred from previous attempts by the enemy to destroy us and keep us walled off from God.  So we can't see the path.  Or we don't want to see it because some church or "Christian" or "God person" totally screwed us over way back when.  Or because something horrible was done to us that we can't even speak about.  I get it.  But it's still usually my choice...my free will.

So TheMan was given a beautiful path of redemption, forgiveness, grace, and trust.  By hundreds of people.  My whole family welcomed him back.  Some had to work harder at it than others.  But we welcomed him back.  Our church is a church full of imperfect broken people that never throws stones.  They loved our story of screwing up a marriage and fixing it.  And many of them came to what I now know was really just a theatrical sham of a "wedding."

TheMan was given an amazing gift from many people.  But the enemy kept reminding him of his previous failure.  Made sure he couldn't fully shake the shame and guilt from his actions in 2007-2010.  So his actions were all tainted by shame.  And anything you build in reaction to shame and guilt - no matter how much you want it to be true - it will come crashing down around you.  And it will DESTROY anyone close to you.

The fourth thing I will say to anyone who thinks that TheMan is hellbound: don't even go there.  TheMan is straight with God.  This I know.  His turn toward and acceptance of God/Jesus was and is real.  I know he talks to God all the time.  And I know he has talked to God about how wrong he was this time.  And last time.  So I know he's good with The Father.  This is EXACTLY what Jesus did on the cross, man.  This is why he died.  For all of us stupid selfish people that can't hold to a vow or remember a promise or think about anyone except our own wants.  For some reason, Jesus thought we were WORTH that.  And while we humans assign levels of evil to each wrong we do here on earth?  That's a human thing.  That's not a God thing.  If you have to turn away from God to do something, you've had to turn away from God to do that thing.  It all hurts God the same.  Whether you think that or not.  Doing wrong is doing something you BELIEVE is wrong.  So if you think disrespecting your husband in public is wrong and you still do it?  You're missing the mark just as bad as TheMan lying to and betraying me and his boys.  So if you're ok with being friends with abusive drunks and compulsive liars but you're not ok hanging out with TheMan because of what he did?  You're doing it wrong.

Don't get me wrong.  I am PISSED.  This is the SECOND time for me.  Having to use terms like "The first time this happened..." or "THIS time..." constantly undoes me and boils my BUTT.  Knowing that I have to find forgiveness for him?  That's hard, too.  Yah, I know the right thing to do.  But man, to have to do that AGAIN?  Now I get that passage where Jesus tells the disciples they have to not just forgive someone seven times but SEVENTY times seven times.  And I've done the math.  I'm struggling with the SECOND time.  So I doubt I'll pass the test all the way up to 490 times.  It's not fair that my boys and I got destroyed a second time.  It's not fair that I walked through a fake wedding - not knowing - smiling and feeling so elated at the culmination of God's miracle!

But I will get over the anger.  Just not right now.  And I will forgive him.  That part has already started.  But the clever prince of poo loves to just pop images of what he did into my head every time I start feeling kind and forgiving.  So yah.  I have a lot of work to do with God.  He has a HUGE miracle to pull off by putting REAL forgiveness in my heart.  And man, TheBoy?  He wants NOTHING to do with his father right now.  And LilBro feels torn and guilty because he wants to see and be with his dad but sees how angry TheBoy is.

I share this not to say "Hey look at how God's miracle was a lie!"  I share this to say God really did orchestrate reconciliation and forgiveness.  And TheMan turned it into a lie.  Not God.  But Jesus took care of this all on the cross.  TheMan just has to deal with us imperfect and enraged humans for a while.  I'm not excusing my anger and rage.  But I'm also not making myself feel bad for it.

So if you're a praying person, cover me and the boys.  If you're awesome enough, cover TheMan.  He has a hell of a mountain of therapy to conquer.  And believe it or not, I want this to end with us still married and actually HEALED and loving.  I am very painfully aware that ending may not be a reality.  I can cope with that.  It is undoing my boys, however.

I will say that TheBoy has shown no tics.  The anxiety attacks suck.  They derail him and make him feel despondent.  Watching him go from bright shining kid to this sad depressed teen...it kills me.  And really adds to my anger.

God can pull us all through this.  It's walking through the fire that sucks.  Even knowing God will get me through it.  The mire is awful at the moment.

Pissed and Praying,
Tourette's Mom

Drilling a Relief Well

Since my last post, BigBro has had one more ginormous volcanic eruption. Again, it was a minor upset at a friend's house. This time, I had the sense to stay at the play date for just such an occasion.

Lack of sleep + life-event stress do not a good thing make. Good grief. I'm typing like Yoda.

Listening to him after this breakdown...or during it, I guess...I heard so many things that broke my heart:

• When will this STOP?!
• I don't want to FEEL this way!!!!
• This happens every DAY!!
• This will never end.
• I'm so confused!
• I don't even know who I AM!
• I don't even know what I'm feeling!!!
  

After he had blown off some steam in his room, we had a talk. He shamefully confessed that he had twisted some of his very special stuffed animals. "I wanted to hurt them!" he tearfully blurted out. It was then I wished I could hand him a big ol' bat and a hanging punching bag.

I told him it's totally ok to be mad at dad or me. It's totally ok to feel confused about wanting dad to stay while wanting him to be able to go back to his beloved Boston. It's ok to scream and want to punch things. I can sense the guilt and shame in him - thinking that all of these outbursts and negative feelings are somehow him being "bad".

I did NOT have the answers and I told him so. But God does have the answers and I reminded him of that. His faith is huge. And I'm thanking God for growing it so huge because it's what will get him through this.

When I dropped him off at school yesterday, he was down. Not pouty or over dramatic. He was probably depressed. He was low energy. He was giving people brave fake smiles. But it wasn't him. Sadness just dripped off of him.

From our conversations, I knew he thought he had reverted. He knows how awesome he's been doing with no tics, no rage and no anxiety. And all of a sudden, bam! they're both back in spades. So add to all the guilt, fear, hurt and anger the thought that suddenly Tourette's is back and taking over.

Yesterday, I called his therapist and said he needed to get in there because he was having an emotional crisis. They got him in first thing this morning.

Our play therapist, Dr.M, is awesome. He loves both boys so much. But he has that special appreciation for BigBro. Today, BigBro saw Dr.M for an hour. Toward the end, I joined them and they showed me (some of) what they had discussed.

Dr.M firstly explained that all of these crazy conflicting emotions are very hard to wrestle. And that EVERYone wrestles with them in their life. Even grown ups. So A) you're not alone.

He then explained that everyone has needs in their lives. I saw a piece of paper that had a bunch listed - obviously, they had made the list together. I saw things like "security", "attention"...I couldn't read all of it. Dr.M explained to BigBro that all of these needs, if not met, will pull on you like gravity. Except they pull your heart (ie emotions). So when a big life event comes along and these needs become greater, the heart can sometimes be over run by things like fear, anger, hurt, and guilt. I saw those written on that same pad.

It was explained better than that but that's what's in my head.

So Dr.M asked BigBro to show me how he had modeled what his emotions might look like in the sand table. Ok...wow. Firstly, I wouldn't even know how to go about modeling that. But here's what he did (and I wish I had photographed it):

One third of the sand table was fenced off and had a volcano, ambulance and eagle figure. The other two thirds had some bright shining marbles & stones, some little toy street signs (like yield, stop, arrows, etc.), a colorful moth figure and a bat figure. It also had a big wooden elephant near the fence.

The side with the elephant represented the side that held his friends (moth & bat), fun (shining marbles & stones), and direction (signs). The elephant represented a big event that happened. It was so big, it pushed him out of the fun side and into the volcano side.

The volcano side represented his isolation. He felt alone even with people around. The volcano represented his anger. The ambulance could get to him but wasn't able to stay long (he showed it sliding down the sand away from his eagle self).

I pointed to a Grinch figure on the fun side that was facing the volcano side. He said that represents how he feels like there is something watching him, always ready to mess him up. He felt like it was his guilt and other emotions that would get him when he least expected it.

It was amazing.

I told him I found it very interesting that his two friends had wings. Because his two best friends are very awesome and true friends. It made me think that their wings would allow them to fly up over this huge elephant and get to him. He looked at them for a minute and went, "Ohhh..." then picked the moth & bat up and flew them over to his eagle self. He liked that. I also pointed out that HE had wings. He liked that, too.

Dr.M drilled a relief well for my little volcano today. It's a good start, as he said. But putting words and labels on those needs and emotions was key, I think. BigBro seemed light when we left. Like, he knew what it all was now. He had identified it and named it. It's a known quantity. Takes the edge off that fear and anxiety.

When I dropped him off at school, he greeted the teachers with his usual bright, "Hi!"

I know we're not done yet. But that relief well is doing its job. It's relieving the pressure and letting God do the rest.

Keep those prayers coming.

Uncorked

BigBro is having a rough go of it this month. The boys' dad moved back to town on 09/01. He's a 5 minute walk from our house. He's not mopey and he's already helped me out with sharing the kid care almost every day.

The boys are thrilled. But...so many emotional obstacles. BigBro finally uncorked at my friend's house tonight. Huge meltdown. All of the conflicting emotions he's been bottling came flying out when one teeny thing happened. Here's what was in the volcano:

1. BigBro hesitated to show how happy he is about their dad being back. He thought it might hurt me.
2. We are letting them choose where they want to sleep pretty often. BigBro was worried if he wanted to stay with parent A, it would insult or hurt parent B.
3. He's afraid dad will leave again.
4. He's glad dad is back but knows he really wants to live in Boston. He feels bad that dad can't be where he wants to live (I personally also think he feels guilt over this).
5. He feels bad that dad gave up all his friends.
6. He feels bad that dad gave up his band, job, life, etc.
7. He worried about dad's ex-girl thing because, well, he saw what a breakup can do.

He also feels guilty for having most of these feelings. It's a horrible vicious cycle.

Tonight, the boys were at my friend's house, playing with her two boys and a few others. The Ex and I went out for Indian food - the boys are not fans. Just as we wrapped up dinner, my phone rang and my friend told me BigBro was having a big meltdown and she wasn't making any headway with him. She got him on the phone and he wasn't making any sense. He was way beyond losing it.

When we got there, she came out to meet us. He had calmed down enough and uncorked on her. I think it helped having a totally neutral loving safe person to talk to. She explained that some game had gone bad (some boys not following rules - which sets BigBro off on even a good day) and that did it. UNCORK. So that one little pinhole became the egress for all of these pent up emotions. He had communicated #4-7 to me the other night. But I hadn't know all of the rest.

The boys went home with their dad tonight. I'm hoping that goes well. He hasn't had to deal with this close up for quite a while. I wish I had them. Ah well.

But to back track - since their dad returned, BigBro has been having exaggerated blinking, his finger/hand action (Spidey Hands), shoulder shrugging, and multiple little verbal tics. His threshold for dealing with problems has dropped. He's been having little emotional explosions here and at school. One happened this morning at school.

So the signs have been there. I knew something was up. And I knew it coincided with the return of The Ex. I know it's normal. I'm not worried about this being some long-lasting thing. But I can tell you this: I'm making an appointment with our awesome child counselor on Monday.

If you're the praying kind, my boys need it. LilBro clams up. So this could all be going on in his head, too. I don't know yet.

Like I told BigBro - God is bigger than this. He'll help BigBro control his body again. Now that we know what's going on and how to counter it. Come on, God!

An Update For The Clamoring Masses

Apparently, my fans are upset that I haven't been blogging. And by "fans", I mean my good friend Kristen. But when my "fans" speak, I act. So Kristen, my wonderful friend? This post is for you.

An update on Pokemon Boy finds him well, sassy and tic-free. Or at least, if he has any, I'm not noticing them. I kind of feel weird if the Tourette's thing comes up in conversations. When you say, "My son has Tourette's," the reaction is usually much more severe than his illness calls for. Which is really freakin' wonderful, from where I stand. I mean, yah, you don't notice he has Tourette's? Rock on, God! But sometimes, the conversation arises and that statement must be made.

I have made an attempt to not mention it when he's in ear shot. He has told me that, when I mention it, that's when he feels like he needs to tic. He feels that urge. That itch. So, if I don't keep bringing it up, he seems happy enough to ignore whatever urges or itches the TS causes.

The one tic that has never quite gone away is that Spidey-hands thing. No matter what he's doing, if his hands aren't actively engaged in something, his fingers are moving. I wish I could video tape it and post it here. It's not a wildly flailing or conscious wiggling of the fingers. Like I said all those years ago, the only other time I've seen hand/finger movements like this are with severely autistic and mentally retarded adults when I was a teaching student in college. It seems to be one of those physical repetitive movement things that soothes or calms. Pokemon Boy never seems to notice he's doing it. I notice it when I try to hold his hand and his fingers are moving. I notice when he's playing his Nintendo DS and has to balance it on a knee to free a hand for the Spidey-hands thing. It's very minor. It's extremely benign. And if that is how his body is releasing the need to satisfy that TS tic? Go for it.

In other PB news, his stressing over his advanced placement math class seem to be gone. I really wasn't sure if he'd stick it out. Going from coasting through classes with barely an effort to suddenly having to think and work hard - that's a blow to a comfort hound like PB. We worked at it every day. He complained. I encouraged. There were days when the stress was so overwhelming for him, I wanted to just pull him. But then one day, a few months ago, I remember suddenly realizing we hadn't had any issues with it in a long time.

He doesn't come home with all 100s or all As like he used to. That was hard for him at first. His first B nearly undid him. And it wasn't a competitive anger. He was horrified at the thought that I'd be disappointed. I told him that As, Bs and Cs are completely ok in my world. We endured weeks of conversations full of what-ifs. What would I do if he came home with a C minus? What if he had a D? What if he got an F? I have reassured him over and over that, no matter what happens, if it seems like he's taken a dip in grades, we'd sit down and talk about it to figure out why. I have no idea where this constant worry about punishment comes from. I have to tell you, it baffles me. I come down hard on things like hitting or being mean or . . . I can't even think of anything. But I have NEVER ever said anything about a low grade. I've talked about them. But never punished. So I'm not really sure where this worry comes from.

Over this school year, however, I think he's finally learned that grades are just grades in our house. If they're top notch? Awesome! If they're anywhere under that and are passing? Awesome! I want my kids to have a normal childhood. I don't want them stressed because they haven't mastered differential equations in 4th grade.

I'm thrilled pickles over PB's grades. He has had everything from 100s to something in the mid 60s. The first few horrid grades came within a few months of each other. I think it was the beginning of this school year. His lack of focus meant he forgot everything. He'd leave assignments at school. He'd forget finished homework at home. At first, I'd try to call the teacher or hunt down assignments so he could turn them in on time. I'd drive homework to school for him. Wrong approach for this kid. I finally told him, you have to start remembering. We came up with routines and lists. His teachers worked with me on it. We tried everything. He kept leaving stuff.

Finally, I said, ok. From now on, it's up to you to remember your assignments. To bring them home, to do them and to get them back to your teacher. When you don't? You'll get zeros and you'll have to deal with what that does to your grade. It was hard to watch him get some really crappy grades - knowing full well he'd probably have an A+ average if I had just hounded him. So he went from getting the All A Honor Roll to the A/B Honor Roll. Yah, I know. My life's hard. But for a little kid with an anxiety disorder? This was a huge blow.

So it took a while for him to see that the bad grades were his consequences. I didn't give out any more punishments because of the bad grades. After a shaky few weeks of this, he finally started understanding the cause and effect of leaving assignments at school or homework at home. I'm totally proud to say he has hit the A/B Honor Roll every grading period this year. And he's finally ok with that.

Now, having said all that, let me update you on Lil'Bro.

Lil'Bro is doing awesome. But he's been a bit frustrated with a few things lately. Namely, any time he perceives that he could be doing better at something, he gets frustrated.

For example: Reading. Lil'Bro has no idea that PB was reading little words at the age of two and was reading a kinder reader at age 3. I will make sure that little bit of trivia eludes him as long as I can. Lil'Bro is in kindergarten. And in kindergarten, those huge differences between kids abilities are glaringly evident. All those over achieving kids for varying reasons (only kid, first kid, competitive overachieving parents, true genius, whatever) can make the average right-on-track kids feel like they're behind. I had just assumed Lil'Bro was happy with his progress and didn't really ask him about it.

So the other day, we're watching TV and that "Your Baby Can Read" commercial comes on. Don't get me started. I can write an entire series of blog posts on that kind of early education. But as a service to humanity, I won't. Anyway, he watches that and sees these babies reading. He turns to me and asks, "Why didn't you get that for ME?!" I was like...what? I said, "Honey, you weren't interested in letters or things like that. You were interested in crawling, walking, climbing and running." He flatly stated that I should have gotten that for him and resumed watching TV. That exact conversation due to that exact commercial has happened about 4 times now. Gah.

He has also been frustrated with the fact that he isn't Tony Hawk on his skateboard. He's upset that he can't ride a bike yet. The bike thing is all me. We rarely have the time and I rarely have the back muscles. I need to rent a dad to come teach both boys how to ride their bikes.

Anyway, as my mom pointed out, it's awesome that Lil'Bro wants to excel. I think I have sold him short for many years. I saw PB as the cerebral one. I saw Lil'Bro as the physical one. I remember joking years ago that PB would be the NASA scientist and Lil'Bro would be a famous stunt man. As it turns out, Lil'Bro is a budding engineer. He wants to know how everything works. He builds and takes apart. He loves books on how things work. He loves TV shows on everything from Pluto (which is still a planet in THIS house, thank you) to dinosaurs to robots to space to the Bermuda Triangle (although that last one scared him this evening). The kid is bright. Extremely bright. I probably would have picked up on that much earlier had I not been so engrossed in his older brother's combination of Tourette's and genius.

Ah well, I will never win Mother Of The Year except in the eyes of my boys.

I was informed by PB this evening, as I put both boys to bed, that I am the best mom a boy could ever hope for. Or something to that effect. I think I was leaning on the bathroom doorway, waiting for Lil'Bro to finish up and had just let out a big tired sigh. Does PB have timing or what!

A Rough Week for Pokemon Boy

Pokemon Boy is an awesome kid. He's loving, empathetic, creative and silly. Unfortunately, he inherited a double sided whammy of anger and worry. Both his father and I have had our issues with temper tantrums. Some as kids, some as adults. And we're both pretty big worriers.

This week, PB has gotten his Nintendo DS and computer put off limits for 4 days. Then two more days were added. Then he got grounded for the first time ever. For a week. He will also have to do some kind of "community service". He'll help his teacher after school on Monday for one piece of it. And for the other, I'm not sure. I'm toying with having him pick up the dog poop from a neighbor's yard.

This is just a ton to dole out in a week. At least for PB. He very rarely does things that actually require consequences beyond losing his DS for a day.

The first incident came on Monday. He was told to put away the laptop in class. When he didn't, a friend started to do it for him. The friend didn't realize that turning off the laptop just lost PB's unsaved work. PB lost his cool and pushed the friend, yelling "I wasn't done with that!" The email I got said he hit the friend. But in school, pushing or hitting, it ain't cool. So that lost the gaming screen time (DS/computer) for 4 days.

On Wednesday, he had to skip recess to make up 2 assignments that he had forgotten and left in his desk. When his teacher told him he'd have to work through recess, he had a big anger thing. It was bad enough where she had to escort him to the library for study time (he usually goes on his own with no problem). So for this one, it was two fold. We've been working on remembering to bring things to and from school. Nothing was working so a month ago, we agreed that, for each assignment or thing he forgets to bring home or take to school, he'd lose gaming time for a day. Since this was involving two assignments he left in his desk, he got the added 2 days of no gaming screen time. For pitching a fit that required his teacher to escort him to study time, he is doing the "community service" of helping her in her classroom after school on Monday. I actually think he'll have fun doing it. But he's worried about it so it fits the consequence bill for me.

Then, Friday, he told me that he had another physical altercation with a classmate. It was the classic "Hey, I was here first" thing when getting lined up. PB actually thinks he may have been wrong so he felt doubly bad about it. But he ended up shoving the classmate. And this just after we'd had a talk about this. I told him that, since we had just addressed this in the same week and the gaming loss wasn't driving it home, I grounded him for a week. In my house, laying hands on another kid in anger will not fly. You can call me wimpy or over-reactive. Knock yourself out. But in my house? Boys will be boys. Boy will NOT be little hooligans.

I watch little boys pummel each other on the playgrounds all the time. In school, too. I know teachers ignore quite a bit of it. But I also see an unspoken agreement between those boys. It's part of their play. But PB is not a pummel-player. We have never allowed anger-based hitting or pushing. I would never allow another kid to do it to either of my boys. I certainly won't wave this off when he's pushing another kid just because he can't control his frustration.

We talked a long time about how the gifted math program is stressing him out. I asked if anything else was stressing him out - waiting to see if he mentioned missing dad or my being out of work. But in his conscious mind, the advanced math is what's frustrating and stressing him out the most. I do wonder, though.

My brother-in-law, TallGuy, mentioned to BigSis that PB's recent issues with stress and anger are classic child-of-divorce stuff. I hate to admit it but I definitely think that's a factor.

Each time we've had to address any of these issues, his self-esteem has been in the toilet. Each time, he is a mess of worry. Worry about how angry I'm going to be. He told me that, every time he gets in trouble, he thinks this will be the one that makes me really really angry. He actually told me once that he wonders if each time he's bad, this will be the one that makes me stop loving him. When I started one of the discussions this week, I said something like, "PB, we need to talk about..." and he quickly added, "...that I'm a bad kid." He really has an amazingly low self image at times. And other times, his ego is off the charts. I don't really understand it but I do. If that makes any sense.

Someone recently told me he just needs to stop being so overly dramatic and move on. Yes. There are times when he's just being the drama king. But these other times - like this week - it's real. And it's deep seeded. I'm not going to ignore this and expect him to just move on. He's nine. He's in a world of stress. Even if some of it is created in his mind, it's real to him. And while I won't enable it, I won't ignore it.

I'm praying a lot. I don't have all the answers. I get good feedback from friends and family. But as anyone knows, even the best advice may not fit you perfectly. I really want God to show me exactly how to be the best mom for PB. I want PB to enjoy this advanced math opportunity. I want him to appreciate that not everyone gets this chance. I want him to know he's special without becoming arrogant. I wish he could see himself the way I see him.

This is quite rambling. Sorry.

A Dentist Visit WithOUT Anxiety

In contrast to Pokemon Boy's visit to the dentist a while ago, Lil'Bro had his first dentist visit today. Granted he's five so they don't have a lot of expectations and you can slip a lot past them the first time. But he also doesn't have any of the anxiety disorder Pokemon Boy has either. It was a whole different visit. X-rays? Done. Cleaning? Done. Cavities? None.

I really was so proud of him. He did everything he was told. He didn't like the little plastic things you bite down on while you get x-rays because they cut into the roof of your mouth. I don't know anyone that loves those things. But he bit, held it and released exactly as told. The cleaning, he told the lady he didn't want her to squirt water into his mouth. She said, "How 'bout we try it just once and see how it goes." He agreed and everything went fine.

Since his visit was completely stress free and no drama, I was able to think about taking a picture with my cell phone. Something I hadn't been able to do for Pokemon Boy's first visit. Which bums me out. But oh well.

Here is a picture of Lil'Bro getting his cleaning. They give the kids sunglasses to wear under the bright lights. It's a bit washed out because of the lights but it's cute anyway.

Randomosity And Such

I was relating the dentist story to my neighbor friends yesterday. They made me feel better about Pokemon Boy's behavior. I had really been chalking that whole thing up (or most of it) to his anxiety disorder. Their daughter is a year older than him and just had her first visit last year. Her visit went very similar to ours. Although, they say it took them one and a half hours to get her xrays!!! Pokemon Boy's xrays took a little while but nowhere NEAR that! Probably not even 10 minutes. They also said she was fearful and tearful about the cleaning - and uncooperative. And she has no anxiety issues that I'm aware of.

Then I spoke to one of my sisters today and related the story to her. She has such an issue with dental procedures (shots to the mouth, in particular - *shudder*), she takes meds in order to go. This horrible reaction actually started due to an abusive dental assistant.

Quite a few people have related their fear and horror about dentists. And it makes me feel better in relation to Pokemon Boy. But it makes me SO sad. Because my former Boston dentist ROCKED. He was SO in tune to people's fears regarding the dentist, he was exactly how ALL dentists should be. It just stinks because there are SO many awesome dentists. But since we only go every 6 months, if you get a bad one, you feel kind of stuck. It's such a hard thing to switch. Most people will just put up with it since it's basically 2 to 4 days out of your year. But you shouldn't. If you get a lemon, try another one. THEY have to transfer your records. All you have to do is tell them where. It's worth switching if you have a bad experience.

So today was Pokemon Boy's first day back to school after his spring break. And I got a call from his teacher. Oh boy, thought I. BUT...she was calling to tell me that he go a 100 on his TAKS reading test. For those of you like me that have no clue what that is - it's standardized testing that all the kids take in 3rd, 4th & 5th grades in our elementary schools. It's one of those all-day testing things. Very scary for 3rd graders as it's their first time taking an all-day test. He was very nervous. But he came home feeling like he probably did ok. That was a few weeks ago. So this is very cool. I'm so proud of him. And I'm so thankful that he got this nice success right at this particular moment.

So YAY Pokemon Boy!!!!

Anxiety Disorders and The Dentist

Pokemon Boy had his first real dentist appointment this past week. Yes, he's eight. Yes, most parents bring their kids to the dentist way before they are eight. I never went until I was 13 and had very few cavities. I made the assumption that Pokemon Boy would have my teeth. Plus, he's such a non-sugar eating kid. Plus, I'm lazy. Throw stones all you perfect people.

Anyway, it was our first visit to this dentist. So you have to fill out all the forms and check all the boxes. I can usually just check all the N/A boxes for all of the diseases or disorders. For Pokemon Boy, I had to check the box that indicated he had a "mental disorder". Man, I hate those lists. "Mental disorder" is not what I would put. But they didn't label it any nicer. I'd prefer neurological issues or something. Ah well, I can't always get the euphemisms I'd like. So I had to check the box that came close enough. Guh. They left a place to indicate how I thought my child would react to treatment. I put something like, "He will be scared and nervous but I think he will cooperate."

Fortunately, this place is a kids' dentist office. They deal only with kids. And therefore, they have dealt with it all. Almost everyone in there is amazingly patient and has mad skillz with the kids. The guy who took Pokemon Boy's x-rays was amazing. I could hear Pokemon Boy asking rather frantically, "What IS that? Is it going to hurt?!" and such. He patiently explained all of the equipment and got the x-rays.

When it was time to get him into the reclining chair, he wouldn't have any of it. He asked, "Is that so I can't get up? Will it keep me there?!" Wow. There are times his anxiety disorder really surprises me. I can never predict where his mind will go and what will freak him out. The reclining chair really freaked him out. They finally talked him into the chair (with quite a few mom-glares from me). At the first visit, it's just x-rays and a cleaning. So they showed him the electric toothbrush and the suction thing. He wouldn't let them use the suction thing. The way it's set up, there is no spit sink next to the chair. So they had to accommodate him, letting him get up and walk to a sink to spit. It didn't scare him. It just "didn't feel good." *sigh* They got his teeth counted, examined and cleaned. Unfortunately, the tooth cleaning woman should not be working with kids (in my opinion). At one point, Pokemon Boy was really upset and didn't want her to put anything in his mouth. He was starting to cry and I was pulled into another room for a review of his x-rays so I couldn't really help. Well, I guess she said to him, "You are crying like a baby. You're a big boy and shouldn't cry." Yes. Very good. By all means, eight year olds LOVE being called a baby. Right up there with being accused of liking the opposite sex. He was VERY upset by her comment. I can see where she might have been going with that comment but it was a poor choice for a kid clearly very freaked out.

So during the whole visit, he questioned everything. Which is pretty normal for an eight year old's first dentist visit. But he wouldn't let them do anything until he was ok with their answers. He pushed their hands away a few times when he was freaked out. All in all, it was less than ideal. But it could have been way worse.

To top it all off, my hopes of no cavities were stupid. He may not eat tons of candy or cake but he drinks juice and lemonade almost exclusively. He'll drink water periodically. But I am an idiot for not paying attention to that. Sugared drinks of any kind sit on the teeth. Even if you brush twice a day, all of that sugar just sits on your teeth for most of the day. YARGH. Anyway, he has to have major work done on three molars (baby teeth, fortunately). One has to be pulled.

So based on his reactions in the office for just x-rays and cleaning, they can't do the work in the office. They are going to put him under general anesthesia to do it all. It kills me. Mostly because all of this was easily avoidable if I had just been diligent about his brushing and flossing. Oh well.

Pokemon Boy is very anxious about the procedure. He's asking me how they'll put him to sleep and the truth is, I have no idea. He is really scared of needles even though he has always done well with them. The thought of the gas mask scares him even though he's had it three times before and did fine. It's so much easier to do surgeries or major procedures on little kids. Because they don't know what to expect. They don't invent scenarios in their heads. And they don't really retain the memories of it.

So while Pokemon Boy's anxiety disorder doesn't horribly affect his day to day life, it's situations like this where it rears its head. And I feel so helpless. And while we're being honest here, I just felt so frustrated in the dentist's office. I should have tried to prepare him for what was coming. But I didn't - opting for not making him worry about what was coming. I never know what to do.

That one impatient lady really irked me. I don't really blame her. They were way behind because some girl's procedures went way longer than expected. So she really didn't have the time to coddle some upset kid that she thought of as too old to freak out. I understand that. But it was just the kind of thing that puts your stomach in knots as the mom. There's an element of wanting to rip her head off. There's an element of embarrassment because you know your kid is under the eye of other people who don't understand his issues. There's an element of heart ache that your kid is so stressed out over something that may now become one of those totally feared and hated things. I have never had issues with going to the dentist. And I think some people work themselves into a big tizzy over it and turn it into a big deal unnecessarily. I hope he can work past this and not have it be a big deal every time.

Thankfully Pokemon Boy believes in God and prayer. He has asked me to pray about his teeth every night. Mostly for peace about the upcoming procedure. Which is a month away. So we're praying about it. And I'm actually asking God to fix his teeth. I have no idea where God stands on that but it can't hurt to ask. Mostly I ask God to make Pokemon Boy ok with the whole concept.

*sigh*

Klergin Blats

I had to go read my last post to see where I had left you all with this.

Trusting God: I'm into this. Trusting gifts God has given others: I'm also into this.

Last week (and a few weeks before), I was extremely fractured. Emotionally. I was so scattered, I didn't have the clarity to figure out escape routes in life. I was flailing at work and entering panic mode because it didn't dawn on me to stop, sit with my managers and form a plan. Because I was panicked. And I thought I was flailing at work simply because my emotions were about to create a black hole from which nothing could escape.

Friday - when I wrote that last post - I was doing better than I had in weeks. Saturday was rough. I spent the whole day with the core of my church family learning about the gifts of the Holy Spirit - what they are, how to seek them and how to use them. So you can imagine that, in that context, I was feeling a lot of pressure to use God and not any meds. I wasn't being pressured by anyone but myself. But I felt the pressure, either way. I wanted to trust enough. I didn't want to lean on meds. I felt like I'd be showing a lack of faith in God if I went to my meds. Even after my friend GuitarDad sat down at lunch and said, "Look, I just want to tell you, if I broke my leg? I'd be in the ER asking for pain meds. And I'd take them. OK?" I knew what he was saying. Modern medicine had saved my life and Pokemon Boy's life. And the lives of tons of people in my life. But what to do. What to do.

And every hour, I got closer to freak out mode. Even though I had a wonderful time with my church at the seminar and learned tons and felt spiritually enriched, I was still faltering.

Sunday I woke up exhausted after a night of broken sleep and LOTS of prayer. Every time I woke up, I just started praying. I don't know what was going on. If you've ever had that nervous stomach just before giving a speech or presentation or performing? I had basically been having that almost every two minutes for about a week by this time. After a night of bad sleep, I was primed for who knows what kind of emotional meltdown. I woke up feeling kind of numb. Which is better than the anxious feeling. But every mile closer I got to church, I felt more and more oppressed. More and more panic. More and more feeling like crying.

I got there and set up the food. I was supposed to assist in the nursery. My wonderful friend TallGorgeousLady recognized my meltdown mode. She helped me find someone to sub in the nursery for me. It was heaven to just sit in the sanctuary listening to our guest pastor speak. And to just worship as part of the congregation.

Afterwards, I took Pokemon Boy up for prayer. He has been having some rather interesting spiritual experiences that leave him uncomfortable. If it makes your skin crawl, it ain't God. So I asked him if he'd let me take him up for prayer. I took him up to a group that was praying over some people and waited. Some of our most fervent praying people were there and I wanted their faith on my kid! We started out with about 5 of us around Pokemon Boy. We prayed for spiritual protection. We prayed for total healing of his Tourette's. We prayed for emotional healing and protection due to the divorce. As the prayer continued, I felt more and more hands resting on Pokemon Boy or me. By the time we finished, there was a nice little group surrounding us. Pokemon Boy is very special to a lot of people at my church. I think my little family as a whole is. My church feels very protective about us - especially because of the broken family thing we're dealing with.

I think Pokemon Boy was a little embarrassed but he stood still for most of it and I know he totally believes in prayer and was ok with it over all. I was really excited that he allowed that. I love that he really trusts in God and his people.

So after that, I talked to a friend and told her how I was wrestling with the meds or God thing. She was so awesome and told me her own story and how she takes meds and it doesn't dampen her link with God. I mean, come on - like some drug could block the Creator of All Things? Yah right.

Well, that night, I just couldn't take it any more. I cannot live with that panic at the base of my neck. I can't live with that constant nervous pit in my stomach. I can't take the overwhelming sense of mopiness. I couldn't formulate a thought. I couldn't think straight. I was terrified I would lose my job. I was terrified I couldn't get my tasks at work done. I was terrified I would lose my house. I was terrified of not being able to provide for my kids. I don't like living in fear. That ain't me.

I opened the CVS bag.

I took the meds.

I prayed a lot.

Monday, I was able to focus at work. I repeated the steps above.

Tuesday, I was able to put a few thoughts together that said, hey, sit with your bosses and show them your overloaded plate. That's their job, dude! Then I got one of the big tasks finished which made me feel like, oh yah, I actually have a brain! Lather, rinse, repeat.

Today, I felt the closest to normal I have in a long time. I'm about to go take my meds and get in bed with the bible again. I haven't been calm enough to do that since last week. This is a good thing.

I don't think God wants anyone to live in constant panic or depression. I think God was glad I asked him to handle it. But I think he gave me access to doctors and this medication because he knew I needed it. Just like I'd need a doctor to set my leg if I broke it. Yes, God can heal a broken mind. He can heal a broken leg. I don't pretend to know when and why he works those miracles and why sometimes we go to a doctor. I'm still asking him about that. We'll see what he tells me.

In the mean time, my doctor and her nurse rock. They've both walked this path. Sadly, so has my pharmacist. My church still prays for the protection and healing of my little family. And they support me whether I'm trying to rely on God for healing or I'm asking a doctor to help. And my mom is just so glad that I'm not spiraling down any more. I can see the relief on her face. She was worried. It is very hard to express that concern to your grown daughter. But she did - in her own way. Because she was there bailing me out every single day. Taking the boys, making us dinner, making sure she checked in with me every day.

God rocks. My mom rocks. My church rocks.

Not quite out of the woods yet. But I take comfort in the fact that I'm out of the cess pool.

Number 952 In A Series of Why God Rocks

So my last post was written on a day when I felt like my skin would pretty much just crawl off my body. I don't know if any of you have ever experienced profound depression (or ANY depression) and/or anxiety. I thought I had. You know, when you're 17 and the boy you like is totally in love with someone way more gorgeous and sparkly than you? Oh yes, I thought I had felt depression. I never really felt like I experienced anxiety, though.

I'll confess: before last year, I had thought that most people that said they were depressed or had anxiety attacks were either drama queens/kings or they were just plain weak and didn't feel like coping. And I deeply apologize to anyone out there that feels like traveling back in time and slapping that me. That me should have been slapped. That me DID get slapped. Trust me. God took care of it for you.

Last year, I understood profound depression and anxiety. Actually, depression I had experienced when my father died 10 days before my 12th birthday. But I didn't fully experience it because my 12 yr old self just squashed it away until I could process the loss and grieve when I was more like...oh...I think I was about 19?

Man, I am ALL over the place with this one.

Suffice to say - 2007 was my introduction to what depression and anxiety could do to you. Separately, they blow. Together, they blow chunks. But being in that arrogant state of mind I was in, I refused to even think of taking meds. Meds were for weak people. Meds were for all those people they showed on Zoloft commercials. At one point, when I was completely non functioning as a member of society, someone gave me a Xanex or something. I was completely blown away at how it settled me, allowed me to gather the scattered pieces in my mind, focus and function.

I went to my doc and tearfully explained my situation. She wondered why I had waited so many months. I explained my arrogance. I am sadly not unique.

So I got my meds. A big ol' bottle. I took them only for emergencies. I think I took about 3 last year. God was rockin' the Saving L.y.n.e.t.t.e thing pretty big time, if you all recall. I was pretty happy that I only needed the few doses.

Fast forward to a few months ago. I was finally out of the cess pool. I was finally seeing the light through the forest trees. I was near the edge of the forest. Relative to the beginning of the big ol' dumb divorce, I felt On Top Of The World. I remember gleefully tossing the remaining meds thinking, "I will never need these again!"

Fast forward again to a few weeks ago. I'm not quite sure what triggered it. I think it was a combination of things, events, weaknesses, stresses. I believe straws and weakened camel backs were involved. But here I was wrestling depression again. When the stresses kept hitting, the anxiety hit, too. Now, when you think you've finished with something really ugly and it shows up again, almost full force? You can get severely derailed. I denied it for a couple of weeks telling my friends I was going through a rough patch or valley and I'd be fine. Which is true. I know God's not going to let me crumble after all he dragged me through. But it wasn't really getting any better.

I was praying things like, ".....help....I don't even know what for. Just help!" I kept asking God to take the depression and anxiety away. I started reading my bible consistently - pouring through it hoping God would talk to me.

A few days ago, I felt like my skin was going to jump clear off my body again. I was so down, my mother could see it - feel it. I could tell she was worried. I finally admitted to her I was full on depressed and feeling like I was about to implode. I probably needed meds again. I went home to find said meds. Nada. Hmmm. I searched everywhere. Then I remembered tossing them. Hence the last post (which was thankfully much shorter than this rambling tome).

The next day, I got in to see the doc. She wrote me another scrip (two, actually). She told me, "Don't throw these away."

The funny thing was...after I made the doctor's appointment, I thought...good grief. It never even occurred to me to ask God to do what I was hoping the pills would do. I mean, not in those words. So I said, ok God. I need you to do what I want those pills to do. I need you to focus my brain - help me focus. Help me function at work and as a mom. Lift this depression, calm the panic. Please God - be my meds! I still saw the doc. I told God that I want to trust in him only. But I want to have those pills just in case - which is rather like saying I want to lose weight but I'll just make sure I have Lucky Charms in the pantry. But I digress. I asked God to be my guide with the meds. I asked him to let me know when or if to take them. But in the mean time, I would trust him. And all that bible reading? God started showing me stuff. Stuff like all the miracles in Acts & Romans. He started showing me how to increase my faith in Corinthians. I couldn't get enough. He just really started making things pop off the pages. I couldn't wait to read my bible every night. And if you know me? That ain't me.

Man, this all sounds so crazy when I see it in type. It's just not how I've operated. I don't reject all medicine or doctors. Modern medicine saved my life and Pokemon Boy's life. And the lives of quite a few wonderful people in my life. God gave scientists and doctors their gifts. So I'm totally pro-doctor. But I felt like, right now in my walk, I needed to give God a chance. I needed to put my trust in him in a big way.

So here I sit, about 4 days later and the CVS bags are still stapled shut on my bedroom table. I am asking God every day and night to be my equalizer. To keep me from the lows and the panic. I have felt much better for the last two days. Today has been the best one yet. And today I realized that I was still hanging on to the fear. What if I lose my house? What if I lose my job? What if I have to uproot my kids and move to an apartment? I was still clinging to the panic. Normal, yes. But I have to shake that. So today - once again - I have been trying to release it all to God's care. Trust that he's got it. Even if I lose my job and house - he's got my back. Honestly, why should I be freaking out like this? I mean ASIDE from being a normal human being.

That's where I am today. It's a process. I'm working on it. God's working on me. I'm in a 3 day seminar with most of my church this weekend. We are praying HUGE. I'm expecting some big stuff this weekend. I'll let you know.

Me and My Big Stupid Good Intentions

I have had so many thoughts and stories I wanted to share with you guys lately. But I'm preempting all of them to bring you this interesting exchange I had with Pokemon Boy last night.

Last night, both boys stayed up late since it was Saturday night. They would have stayed up later but Lil' Bro had a slight fever and was paler than pale. Pokemon Boy was bummed because the plan had been to pull out the fold out couch and all fall asleep watching TV. Another time, kiddo.

Lil' Bro was in bed. As Pokemon Boy's consolation prize, I allowed him to sleep in the bed in my office. Somehow, that was thrilling to him. Good. Saved me some trouble of pulling out and setting up his tent in the reading room. As we were getting him settled, he asked me a very interesting question. "Mom, do you love God more or me more?" Good grief. How does a completely imperfect human mom answer that?

I mean, if I say I love God more, will he understand that? If I say I love him more, will that diminish God in his mind? And it was a scary question because I sat there thinking...hmm...I'm supposed to love God above all else. But do I? I mean, it's so hard to say - for me, anyway.

With Pokemon Boy's anxieties and worries, I went the safest route in my mind. I would give him the answer to make him feel secure in his mother's love. "Well," I started, "I know I should love God more than anything. But the truth is, I probably love you and Lil' Bro more than anything." I thought that would make him happy. I thought that would be the end of it. I couldn't have been more wrong.

"Oh..." he hesitated. He started talking about my answer. I honestly can't recall what he was saying. But I noticed his face looked like he was going to cry. I said, "Hey, what's upsetting you? You look really upset." The floodgates opened. He started crying. And I mean big gulping sobs. Wow. This is not at ALL what I was expecting. What in the world had I done?

"Honey! What's going on? Why are you so upset? Was it something I said?" He shook his head but kept crying. "Then what's making you cry so much?" Finally, through gulping sobs, he got it across to me that he was worried I didn't love God enough. Oh good GRIEF! Me and my big stupid good intentions! I immediately regretted my answer and having attempted to give him an answer I thought he wanted to hear. I should have taken the risk and told him the truth - that God is the center of my world now. That I love him more than I ever thought I could. That he's the first one I turn to when I'm scared, anxious, happy, sad, worried, whatever. I just thought he'd be so hurt that I would have chosen some invisible God over my physically present son! GAH!

So I had to back pedal and eat crow all at the same time. All the while, silently apologizing to God for sticking my big stupid foot in my mouth. I explained everything I've pretty much written above. I told Pokemon Boy how God was the center of my world. How I put him first (or tried to) in all things. I even went so far as to tell him how God totally saved me and carried me through 2007.

After doing a lot of talking, he was a bit more mellow but still very upset. After another session of 20 questions, Pokemon Boy finally told me that this subject upset him so much because he was worried I might not go to heaven. Wow. Talk about a way deeper Saturday night than I ever thought possible! He was worried that, if I didn't love God enough, God might not love me. I was flabbergasted by the depth of his concerns. But this I had answers for. Or maybe that's when God said, "Move over L.y.n.e.t.t.e. I'm taking over now!" I started explaining that I knew for a fact that God loved me. He loves me tons. And here's why... I started telling him a Readers' Digest version of my whole life. Pretty much all the God-orchestrated milestones in my life. And only the biggies. I would have been there all night giving him the life-time testimony.

I told him how I was put up for adoption by a loving mom who wished she could keep me. And God made sure to put me with my adoptive family, the E's. I told him, "And you know who God already had in that family? Your aunt [Big Sis]!" He seemed intrigued. "And she turned out to be my best friend for the rest of my life." I went on to tell him how I started having major life threatening medical issues at the age of 7 months. And God made sure the E's had the resources (both parental and financial) to cover my hospitalizations. God pulled me through multiple surgeries. I almost died after at least one - from pneumonia. I told Pokemon Boy that lots of people prayed for me and God pulled me through that, too. I told him how God always surrounded me with tons of loving family, church family, friends, neighborhoods, school mates. I told him how I prayed almost every night for YEARS as a kid to find my "real" parents. I told him that God, in his timing, worked that out. How two days after my 20th birthday, my birth-mom called me! God brought HER to ME! And how that reunion was awesome and my birth mom and her family has been so special to me ever since then. I told him that God brought me the most love I'd ever experienced when he brought Pokemon Boy into my life. And then Lil' Bro.

Then I switched over to showing Pokemon Boy how I knew God loved HIM. I told him that all the doctors had told me I probably wouldn't be able to conceive. And for many years, that appeared true. After one miscarriage, I was told I couldn't carry full term. Then along came my pregnancy with Pokemon Boy. And God provided the most amazing doctors that monitored his development. And he was born - full term. Then he had kidney problems. And God sent us to one of the top pediatric urologists in the country - just "happened" to be on our HMO plan. I told Pokemon Boy how he had many tests and treatment and finally corrective surgery. And God brought him through all that as if it were nothing. I told him how God has surrounded him with a huge praying family, wonderful friends, a great neighborhood, a loving church family. I said, "Look, God has a reason for you being here. He went through a lot of trouble to get you here and make you healthy. I don't know what he has planned for you but it's GOT to be good!"

I have to tell you, this whole exchange probably lasted well over an hour. It was the most intense and amazing thing. I mean, about 3 weeks ago, Pokemon Boy had asked me how I knew God was real. And then had told me he wasn't sure if he believed. He told me, "I kind of like 80% think he's not real and 20% think he is." Now here he was terrified I didn't love God enough and might not make it to heaven.

During the exchange, I told him that I wasn't perfect. But I had read enough of the bible to know that God loved me. And as long as I kept trying to live my life with my eyes on God, I knew I had a spot in heaven. I assured Pokemon Boy that I'd be in heaven waiting for him once he got there.

Whew. We finally laid down together with the lights off. I put my arms around him and just prayed. I don't even remember what I prayed. But it lasted a good 15-20 minutes. I fell asleep with my arms around him. I'm pretty sure he fell asleep while I prayed.

So my advice to you is - when your kid asks you questions that might reveal your true spiritual beliefs? Don't try to color it any other way than truthfully. Because it will backfire on you. Maybe I'm just preaching to myself here. I'm just sayin'...

Pokemon Boy and The Sub

In the documentary 'I Have Tourette's But Tourette's Doesn't Have Me', one of the kids says something like, "Tourette’s and substitutes: a bad mix."

Pokemon Boy is in the middle of 2nd grade. His teacher adores him. She understands him. She extends great patience with all of her students. She has a soft but firm hand with them. In his whole 2nd grade year, he has gotten perhaps one note home. She had to ask him twice to push in his chair. Scandalous. But that's Pokemon Boy. At school he is very eager to please. He loves learning. He has been every teacher's dream so far. He's a bit distractible - what 7 yr old isn't? I don't even chalk it up to the obsessive compulsive tendencies diagnosed as co morbid with his Tourette's. He's just a normal kid.

Well, Wonder Teacher left last week (when I was traveling) to have her baby. Yay on the arrival of Teacher Wunderkind. But I'm a bit concerned about the "long term" sub. This week, Pokemon Boy had three notes home. THREE. For minor infractions. Once he was singing during a quiet activity (he does this all the time - he usually has no idea he's doing it). Once for talking to a classmate in stead of completing the task just given by the teacher. Today it was for...good grief...I can't even recall. It was equally as small. But I do recall it boiled down to him needing to do what she asks, when she asks it. I have a feeling that their normal teacher allows for slips because she knows the kids. She understands the boundaries with each one.

I explained to Pokemon Boy that the three notes home do NOT mean he's a bad student (he cried for about 10 minutes when he got home and "confessed" to me). I told him the New Sub is just trying to set the rules and might be a bit heavier handed than Wonder Teacher because New Sub doesn't know them. I explained that New Sub doesn't yet know how great Pokemon Boy is. Once she gets to know them all, I'm sure it will smooth out.

The interesting thing, however: today he had a new audible tic. Brand new and very pronounced. It was a twist on one I've seen before. It's hard to describe. It's like a hard "th" sound but there's a flick of his tongue in there. And his cheeks puff a bit. He didn't even know he was doing it. Or maybe he did. I'm not sure. I noticed a few more soft grunting noises. The eye blinking was absent. Oddly. That's usually first.

For the last few weeks, he has been having anxiety episodes - I don't want to say "attacks". They manifest right after he's eaten. I'm still not convinced these are purely anxiety. I think they started out as true reactions to crappy fast food. But I'm wondering if his anxieties caused those same symptoms at other times. He gets incredibly worked up each time. He asks me or whoever he's with to go to the bathroom with him because he's convinced he'll throw up. I've pointed out lately that, in all the times he's felt like this, he has never thrown up. But he's convinced this time he will and he's all crying, shaking and panicked. It has happened almost every time we've gone out. At different places. Different foods. The last time it happened before my business trip, I almost lost it. Sounds awful, I know. But I was tired, emotionally drained, totally stressed. My parents took us out to dinner. Two bites into my food, he starts. "Mom! I have to go! I'm going to throw up!" and the crying starts. I wanted to chuck my whole plate of food across the room and scream at him. But I went with him and tried to calmly reassure him that he'd be fine if he can just get a handle on how upset he was getting.

I left for a week and this scenario was repeated with my parents. With my sister. With my brother-in-law. I felt so awful. It's very hard to know what to say to him. It's very hard to keep your patience.

My mom had success with getting rather firm with him. She recognized one particular instance as pure anxiety. So she had to get a bit firm with him and tell him to calm down. She said it really worked. Tonight, we went out with future ex. Sure enough, 3 bites into my salmon, he has to go. He's gonna throw up. But - thankfully - he wanted future ex to go with him. I selfishly wolfed down my food while they were gone, assuming I might have to do round two with him next.

They returned from the bathroom and future ex was surprisingly Zen. I knew he was annoyed but he kept it to himself. When we left the restaurant (Lil' Bro asleep in my arms), it hit again. Pokemon Boy started panicking and crying - he was going to throw up. I piled the sleeping Lil' Bro into his seat, buckled him in and talked to Pokemon Boy. I reiterated that he has never thrown up to this date. I went over how things worked while I was away - how Grandma got him to calm down that one time. How I knew he could do it again. I explained that his panic is making his muscles tense up and might be adding to whatever GI distress he might actually be having.

Once in the car, he worked very hard to calm down. I was impressed. He did it. We had a nice drive back to future ex's house. I don't really get what this is. But it clearly is related to anxiety or panic. I don't know if it's tied to the stress at school. With my travel and the New Sub, who knows. And I'm sure eating at home would benefit us anyway.

Just thought I'd give an update on Pokemon Boy.

Is There a Healthy Kid Anywhere in America?

Honestly, I would like to meet a kid in elementary school that is healthy. All the kids in my neighborhood are taking turns coming down with something that just knocks their socks off. The Boy's 1st grade teacher has told us that she's been missing 3, 5 or 8 kids on any given day. Monday, when I called my local doctor's office (and it's a big medical building with like 8 pediatricians and an urgent care unit) , they were BOOKED SOLID. So I had to go 2 towns over to have The Boy seen.

Three weeks ago, The Boy had that lovely runny nose, bad cough and fever thing going around. He ended up getting antibiotics for a respiratory infection - the cough was bad enough to kick off the gag reflex - always a good time. He missed 4 days of school one week. The next week, he was doing well and made it to Friday before spiking another fever. It was on and off over this past weekend. On Monday, it resurfaced so we took him in. The Boy had his first ear infection ever at the ripe old age of six and a half. So more antibiotics only because he'd had fevers for more than 72 hours at this point. Bummer. But I'll take the antibiotics over the bad alternative. The Boy is really good about drinking his milk with acidophilus in it.

The only part of illness for The Boy that reminds me that he has more anxiety than some kids is when the discomfort hits at night. I mean, no one is their best when they're woken from sleep due to discomfort or pain. When his ear woke him up one night, he panicked. So when I got there, he was asking if he was dying and telling me he thought he was going to throw up. I don't think he was nausiated. I think he was panicking - having an anxiety attack. I felt his chest and his heart was pounding out of his chest. It was awful. I got him to calm down and take deep breaths. So that was good. But he was drenched in sweat and I couldn't do a think about his ear pain.

The other part of illness that is hard with The Boy is getting him to take meds. Unless it tastes totally like liquid candy, it will be a battle. Lil' Bro (who is only 3) will pretty much take anything I put in his syringe. He might make a face if it's yucky but he'd probably take Chinese herbs if he had to (which I take and let me tell you, THAT is some nasty stuff!). With The Boy, what should take 30 seconds can be dragged out to more like 20 minutes. He does everything from just freak out crying to refusing to take it to saying wait! and asking a million questions. It's so frustrating because you know he feels bad and you're trying to be patient. But honestly, I just want to scream at him when he gets like that. What I ended up resorting to was threats. I just told him, from now on, every time I say it's time to take his meds, he better walk right over and take them with no delays or protests. Every time he freaks out, throws a fit or tries to delay, something new goes off limits. Surprisingly, it worked. Today, Hubby was able to give The Boy his meds twice with no drama.

But the anxieties that come out during his illness are exhausting. I have no idea how parents of children with serious anxiety disorders do it. I understand and appreciate The Boy's anxiety being mild. But it really does make me think parents of kids with serious problems are my heroes. God bless them all.

A Rocky New Year

So my cousin Kendra just poked me last night (via family email) and reminded me that I haven't posted anything here in a while. Now, I must confess, I have been busy following and praying for the brain surgery of our church music director, for Darlene and her son Mark, and tending to some very difficult and life-changing events in my own immediate little family. So I confess my distraction and apologize to those few friends and family who check this site regularly.

But it's exactly this stress in my own little family that I should have been writing about. Without going into great detail here, suffice it to say that things have been rocky in our household since just after the new year. And when the house is rockin', The Boy's tics come a'knockin'.

I have been asking for prayer for my family - specifically for God's protection over the boys as none of this has anything to do with them. So having said that things are rocky and that we've been covering the boys in prayer, let me tell you how things have looked.

The boys have had to indirectly experience some tension, tears, and aruing. At one point, they were in bed and I assumed very deep asleep. I was so incredibly upset that there was no holding it in any further. I was in my room crying hard into my pillow. And I mean HARD. I knew the sound was going beyond my not-so-sound-proof pillow but didn't know how much. After I had been at it for a good 15 minutes, my door suddenly opened. I looked up expecting to see the disapproving look of my husband. In stead, I was greeted with a white-faced panicked The Boy. He's seen me cry when a beloved cat died. He's seen me cry over movies. He has never seen me crying with the despair that was hitting me at that point. And he was scared. It was horrible. And I was so upset I couldn't even stop. I was able to reign it in a bit but still had to try to explain things to him between gulping sobs. Yah. That'll do wonders for a kid - let alone a kid with TS that has anxiety issues. I got up and helped him back to bed. We prayed - for me & daddy, for our family, for The Boy to sleep.

Here's where I can show you what God's answers to my prayers of protection look like. The next day, I expected to be drilled with questions. I expected tics to be more pronounced. I didn't really know what to expect. The Boy and I talked very briefly - I reiterated that last night was not normal and daddy and I were committed to working on fixing things and it had nothing to do with Lil Bro or him. He accepted that. I have asked him to just pray that God make our family stronger. I haven't seen any tics arise that weren't already there. I haven't seen any tics increase. I mean, not timed with the beginning of all of this.

To me, that's God answering some very strong prayer.

So to update you on The Boy...his tics currently include this little...man, I never know how to describe these things. Like, if you've ever pretended to be a whining dog, you make a little close-mouthed mmm-mmm-mmm sound, you know? Well, when he's tired or distracted, he often just makes one of those every few seconds. It's not loud so I doubt most people even hear it. It's much more pronounced when he's tired. He is still making this little sound like if you make a over-pronounced P sound - like if you were going to imitate the sound a horse makes when they whinny. But it's very quick, not like a full horse whinny. This sound comes out mid sentence, after ever few words. Actually, this tic has been lessening lately.

His Spidey-hands thing started again for a while. I still see it here and there but not as severe or compulsory as when he first had it back in May 2006.

His anxiety is still there. It manifests a lot in his worrying about time or schedules. He is hyper aware of what time things should start and end. If there is no schedule, he's usually ok but if there is something new, he usually wants to know any parameters as soon as possible so he can get his grip on how it affects him - if that makes sense. When we get ready for the school bus in the morming, there are often conversations around what will we do if we miss the bus? What if the bus comes early? How will we know if the bus already came? And this often amazes and frustrates me because we stick to a very tight schedule in the morning and are always on time and have never missed the bus.

His lack of boundaries (social & personal) are becoming more of a problem as he gets older. When you're four and you run up to a stranger, get right in their face and start grilling them with questions, well, that's just cute. When you're six and do the same thing, people act uncomfortable. He has trouble knowing when to stop with being goofy. I take full responsibility for that trait and blame my birth-father for passing it along. HA! Yes, that can just be being six. But I also know The Boy, me and my birth-father and how we all had trouble with this. Most first graders are starting to recognize social limits and are starting to read body language & facial expressions better. The Boy is oblivious to any of that. If he got one laugh, he's sure he can get 274 more with the same joke or pratfall. I'm 41 and still wrestle with that one. But it goes along with his inability to recognize boundaries.

We haven't started any of the behavioral therapy yet. I had thought we might not need to start. I'm still wrestling with, do we let him be himself and just learn as he goes (like most of us do) or do we start getting him therapy to recognize boundaries and possibly squash a normal and beautiful part of his spirit? It's a tough call. So far, his lack of boundaries isn't causing any real problems - no more so than other kids his age who are still learning social graces. So I'm kind of inclined to leave things as they are.

As for his physical tics, we ask God to give The Boy the ability to control his own body. And I really feel God is honoring this. Only time will tell. But I'm still praying and believing big.

I know there are more tics that are happening right now but I can't, for the life of me, think of what they are. So obviously, they're not that awful if I can't remember them.

A Great Checkup

Well, back to the original intent of this here blog thang.

Today, The Boy went to see his psychiatrist for a checkup. Since he's seen her, he's been having a very mild time of it. (Thank you, God!) I have to say that it was a very nice checkup. She asks him lots of questions. Today, she seemed to be gauging his anxiety levels. He's not a huge worrier but he does tend to worry about things more than most 6 yr olds. It's hard to describe. He's not an anxious kid. But if he needs something to stick to a regimen or schedule, he really needs it to stick. Example: today, we had his doc appointment at 9am. So that meant missing morning school. He asked me when he'd get to school and I said probably some time around 10:30am. He immediately did a mental check of his class schedule and realized he wasn't sure what the class would be doing at 10:30. The class schedule had recently changed and he got pretty upset over the fact that he wasn't sure what they'd be doing at 10:30. Now, if an adult did that, I'd think they had serious problems. When a six yr old does that, I think, wow, they're headed for quite a rigid scheduled life. Anyway, I assured him that he'd find out what the class was doing once he got there and he shouldn't worry about it. He calmed down immediately. And what was so interesting about his self calming? I watched him - it was like he made a mental decision to calm down. I mean, honestly, he was so upset that his fists were balled up and his whole face was scrunched up in that panicky freak out expression we get when we're about to lose it. I thought he was going to flip out. But I watched him get a hold of himself and it was like he said, ok, I can deal with this. And he just calmed down. I thought that was interesting. I wish he could do that every time he was upset. Are you kidding? I wish I could do that every time I was upset!

The only other stuff going on is the continuing exaggerated blinking. It's not real bad these days. And he has this new verbal tic. Hard to describe. I need to start finding a way of embedding sound clips on this site. But it's like, while speaking, he's subconsciously doing this quick blowing out of the mouth but he'll flip his tongue in a way that...I don't know how to describe it. It ends up sounding like if you were pretending to hock a loogie but very softly. I have no other way to describe it. As his doctor pointed out, it's not so severe that you're taken aback. Most people don't seem to notice it. And, those of you that have 4-6 yr old children in your life know that they're all making some kind of noise almost constantly. It's a very experimental age. With most kids, you can tell they're just trying stuff out. With The Boy, you can pretty much tell that he doesn't realize he's doing it and he can't control it. But hey - it's a very mild tic given the spectrum of tics.

The doctor asked if he had been making any progress in his maturity development. He is quite an interesting little guy. He's brilliant and that is very apparent when you meet him. But being incredibly smart doesn't always mean you're mature. And I think that tends to be a problem for The Boy. People meet him and note his ability to communicate way beyond his age. He can read texts that you and I might struggle with. Granted, he won't know what all the words mean, but he can read and write better than a lot of high school students I know. He can add and subtract the most ridiculously large numbers. His hobby is making multiplication charts on the computer - and not using a calculator - using his head. And not just 12 by 12 but 15 by 15 or larger. People experience these things in him and accidentally classify him as an older person than he is. He's so smart, we expect him to be able to function with the maturity of a junior high kid. But he is the quintessential 6 yr old. He loves burping and farting and slapstick humor (wait...that describes most grown men....hmmmm). He loves to dance with wild abandon. He loves to run around large areas until he falls down. He likes to spin until he falls down. He loves Care Bears and could care less how many boys tell him they're just for girls. He will get right up in someone's face, introduce himself and start asking them their name, age, house number, etc. He has no boundaries like an older kid would have.

His doctor said something very interesting today. She said The Boy lives in a very happy world where people are nice and friendly. Where everyone is helpful and loving. It's a beautiful world he lives in. When the real world (or negative aspects of that world) intrude on his world, it's still hard for him to deal with at times. That may be where the anxiety comes in. But we discussed how it's a lovely world The Boy lives in. And it's sad that, some day, he'll need to realize that not everyone is part of that world. I love that part of him because it's part of what makes him so generous and loving. But I fear his world because it's what makes him trust anyone. As his doctor put it, "He knows no strangers." We're teaching him. But I still see the confusion for him. When we try to explain dangers of strangers, why he can't play outside alone, why we can't leave him in the car alone, why he has to stay close to us, why he can't open the door when the doorbell rings, he'll accept our rules. And he'll accept that we're saying there are people out there who aren't all that nice. But I can see that younger mentality wrestling with - how can anyone be mean or dangerous? Everyone is so NICE! It's a normal part of growing up. But I think the point here is, most kids in 1st grade have a much better grip on that caution with the unknown. Not all. But most of the ones I know are not still as trusting as they were when they were 4 or 5.

Boy I'm really rambling here. I don't really have much direction in my thoughts today. I guess The Boy's duality still amazes me: his brilliance that rivals kids much older than him and his youthful trust in the entire world that speaks of a much younger kid. It's wacky. And I love it.

Anyway, I'm thankful that the TS tics are minimal at this point. And his anxiety seems to be at levels that he can control himself. His doctor says she won't need to see him until July 2007 unless something comes up in the mean time. That made me pretty darn happy.

Pray big. Expect miracles. Yah baby!