To Write a Blog or Not to Write a Blog: Only You Can Answer That Question

“To Write a Blog, or Not to Write a Blog: Only You Can Answer That Question”

There are some things to consider, before starting a blog. I recently did my own research on this subject because a friend of mine suggested I start one, after having read an article I had written about my experiences being a mom with a daughter, who has Asperger’s. She felt that other parents could benefit from my insights and that it would be a good way to reach out to other parents with similar experiences. Those were definitely some good reasons, I felt, for starting a blog, but before jumping into this endeavor, I wanted to learn what others said about creating and maintaining a blog, the positives and the negatives.

Interestingly enough, the more I seemed to read, the more I became disenchanted with the idea, at first. Information I found on the internet, talked about what a huge time commitment and discipline was involved, how important it is to promote your blog and be consistent with the times you write, read up on other blogs, et cetera. All of the information seemed pretty overwhelming and like a lot of work. Not only that, but there is somewhat of a time factor involved in creating and designing a blog account, if you intend to make it marketable. So, I had resolved that after reading what some of the experts wrote that I did not want to set myself up for failure and create one. Plus, I had discovered from my research that there were already over 10,000 blogs about Asperger’s anyway. I wouldn’t have a niche, so why on earth would anyone want to read my blog? What good would it serve?

So, I started reading about guest blogging and thinking that may be a better route to go. To be a guest blogger, you just have to find a blog that you like with the subject matter that you are interested in writing about, contact the blog host, and see if they would be interested in posting your article. As much work as blogs en tail, as far as what my readings were telling me, that seemed like the way to go; and what blogger wouldn’t be relieved that someone is offering to help them out, give them a break from their day-to-day writing, and submit an article? Whew! I could actually be doing some poor sap a favor by submitting an article to them. It could be an entirely win-win situation. So, I kept that idea in mind.

Then, something happened. I had to stay home from work because my son was sick. I really had nothing better to do than to make sure my son’s needs were met and learn more about this blogging endeavor, which has been occupying my mind lately. So, I had decided, “That does it! I’m creating a blog! I have to see what it’s all about for myself and disregard all this negative stuff I’ve been reading.” I started out with wordpress.com but found myself frustrated with that. When I tried to crop my picture for my account, the site wasn’t being very cooperative. Then, my computer would time out, when I would try to save or publish my post. I’m guessing that had to do with my not paying the $17 fee. Who knows, but I decided I would try blogger and see what that was all about.

I was very pleased with blogger and that is where my blog is, by the way, http://kriheff.blogspot.com/. It is very user friendly, has several templates to choose from, and just worked well for me. Some of what I read about blogger was that it did have limited options to choose from, but sometimes, I find that having umpteen options can be overwhelming. So, I created my blog, chose a pleasant template, added nice pictures, and published it. Now, I have a blog, and I found that creating one was rather rewarding. I like to write anyway and am always taking pictures and sharing them with friends. It makes for a nice creative outlet, and with the stories I will put on it, who knows? Maybe I might decide to consolidate them and write a book someday. You just never know.

What I had decided as far as coming up with a blog is that I was not going to overly concern myself about how many readers I have, how frequent I post, or reading others’ blogs. I had decided that I would do this mostly for me. It would serve as a creative outlet and serve as an extension of the self.

As far as how often you post, set your own limits.

If you grow an audience, then fantastic, but if not, that’s ok too. It all depends on what your purpose is. I had read that you can write a blog to show your expertise in a subject, to promote a business/product, to network, keep up with friends and family, to create an online journal, to add to your résumé of accomplishments, etc. Whatever your reasons, make them your reasons and heed what the experts say about time commitment and all that, but don’t be afraid to try either. At the very worst, you are going to gain experience in setting up a blog and seeing what that process is all about. Of course, if your post might embarrass you for some reason, you can always delete it.

I must admit that I have guest blogged before too. My entries are on this website, so I have had some help on the tumblr blog site. Andy Welfle helped me maneuver that site, showed me how to create hyperlinks, add pictures, tags, etc. So, I had some prior blogging experiences, before setting out on my own. That makes a huge difference in how successful your blog is going to be. I highly recommend viewing others’ blogs too to get ideas of what works and doesn’t work, what’s marketable, etc., and never be afraid to ask questions and to look for helpful tools/tricks of the trade on the internet or through your public library’s database.

With all this being said, I just wanted to add that blogging can be a good way to market yourself, and there are a lot of other good reasons to blog. It’s one of those things that you just don’t know if it will work for you, unless you try.

And here is the live version of "Animal Follies"...

http://youtu.be/NZxJX-2GW_Q

Animal Follies

Living with a child, who has Aspergers, has been an adventure of sorts.  My daughter is very much into animals, and at one time, we owned a cat, dog, guinea pig, 2 hermit crabs, gold fish, bettas, a turtle, and

whatever animals she managed to hide from our view.  Because of her extreme fondness of animals, I have some rather interesting stories to share.

Last spring, my daughter and her friend found a baby, abandoned chipmunk in our backyard. Automatically, my daughter's in love and wants to adopt. The brakes go off in my head, and I'm thinking, "Whoa! How much is this going to cost, and who's going to ultimately take care of it?" "Oh, yes. That would be me, so No!" Of course, my daughter argues with me multiple times, but the answer is "No." So, she puts it in a shoe box, so we can take it to Animal Care and Control the next day.

The next day comes, and my daughter wears a winter coat to school, which I thought a little strange, especially since it's spring and she's pretty warm natured. But I don't worry too much about it. I'm in a hurry and need to get to work. Well, I get a call from the school about her not feeling well. My husband also gets a call, and he's informed that she brought a little friend to school, the chipmunk, which she managed to smuggle in her winter coat pocket. So, he goes and gets the chipmunk, and I go to pick her up, a little later. She didn't feel well because she had stayed up caring for the chipmunk all night long. I'm sitting in the office, and my daughter and her chipmunk friend were all the talk of the office and I'm quite sure the teachers' lounge and possibly the entire school. I was actually quite amused by the situation.

Next story, last summer, we went on a walk out in the country. Our neighbors down the road have about 5 kittens that my daughter is in love with. We go to see them about daily. One day, they decide to follow her home, and I'm pretty alarmed. I'm already swimming in pet responsibilities as it is. So, I'm trying to figure out how to get these kittens home. My daughter walks to and fro, but they keep following her and won't go back to their home. I tell Amber to walk towards the kittens' house, while I go home to get my son and the van. We drive back. My son grabs the kittens to put in the van. While he puts some in, others jump out. It's mass chaos. Then, I observe my son's eye has swelled up. It's all red & puffy, as if he'd been in a fight. So, I'm alarmed about that. It turned out to be an extreme allergic reaction to the cats. Then, this car pulls up, and this woman asks to see if all is well. Her dog leaps out the window and chases the kittens. She manages to get her dog back and after they depart, we manage to get the kittens as close to their house as possible and head for home.

Another story took place in New Orleans. I was visiting my mom, and my daughter found a lizard at her house. She loves this lizard so much that she wanted to skip going to dinner and the festivals, to play with it. We made her go though, and during the festivities, she actually spent most of the time looking for more lizards. Later, at my mom's, I was packing, getting ready to go back home, and Amber insisted that she pack her own luggage, which normally she wouldn't want anything to do with. My mom and I are looking at each other and decide it would be a good idea to check on the lizard friend out in the garage. Not surprisingly, it was not there. It was buried in my luggage. I'm sure Airport Security would have had a heyday with that one!

So, that is not all of my animal stories, by any means, just some of the more interesting ones. The list of stories really never ends because as my daughter sees a new animal, she wants a new pet. And when mom and dad say "no", that's when the animal smuggling adventures begin. Whoever said parenting couldn't be interesting? Challenging but interesting? Oh, and by the way, my cat is expecting. (sigh)

Jane's Lucky Day

This is my video recording, below, for the "Jane Hatfield" blog entry.  It's not a high quality recording and not my greatest speech performance, but it's an adequate record, for anyone who might be interested in watching it.  The message is good too.
http://youtu.be/wBmuxpbliF0

Jane Hatfield

Her name was Jane Hatfield. She was a sweet, elderly woman, who was well into her late 80s. She lived alone in a quiet suburb and had a daughter, Anna, who checked on her from time to time. For the most part, she lived independently, paid her bills, made her own meals, went to church with the neighbors, and still drove on occasion. A couple times a week, her daughter would stop and visit. They would have dinner or go to a movie. Even so, Jane was very lonely. She would spend her days reading, watching TV, knitting, and spending time with her cat. She was very grateful for her daughter's visits and enjoyed conversing with the neighbors. Her beloved husband James had passed away, nearly 8 years ago, and she missed his presence immensely. What money he left her was used mostly towards paying funeral costs, so his loss was very much a hardship, both financially and emotionally.

One day, she received a call from a man with a thick, foreign accent, who tells her that he is with Publishers Clearing House and that she is the lucky prize winner of $2.5 million and a Mercedes-Benz. Jane is so excited and feels that it's her lucky day. The man, John Smith, proceeds to tell her that there is a delivery fee for the car and that she must pay taxes in advance of receiving the winnings. She is alarmed and expresses to him that she is on a fixed income and has no money for the $500 payment. He quickly tells her that they can make an adjustment and that $250 would be fine. Jane doesn't have that either. Mr. Smith says to her that surely, there is someone she can borrow from. She is very reluctant to do this, even for millions of dollars, so Mr. Smith says that he will have her talk to his supervisor. So, she talks to him, and he okays the amount of $50. She gratefully accepts, and he tells her that she needs to go to the nearest Western Union or Money gram to send the payment and gives her the address of where she needs to send it. After she does this, she calls him back to let him know. To her relief, he informs her that the check can now be delivered, and once she receives it, she will need to pay the remainder of the $500. Anxiously, she does this, but the check she receives isn't the $2.5 million that she was expecting. It was for only $2500. Mr. Smith tells her the rest is coming, but the $450 must be paid first.

A couple days later, a Rudolph Jensen from the FBI calls and tells her that she is guilty of check fraud and owes the American government $2500. Jane is horrified and says that cannot be possible. Rudolph continues threateningly that if she doesn't pay the $2500 immediately, that she will be incarcerated. Jane is begging and pleading with Rudolph. She doesn't have the money, and he threatens that she MUST come up with it. No excuses. She has committed a crime. Jane, out of desperation, remembers that she has some savings bonds tucked away that were reserved for her only daughter, for when she passes on. She agrees to cash some of these in to pay off the $2500 debt, and Mr. Jensen seems satisfied.

A few days later, she gets a call from 2 more agents, one from the CIA and the other, a U.S. Marshall. Both agencies are telling her that she is being charged with check fraud and conspiring with foreign intelligence to steal funds from innocent Americans. Jane is so upset. She is in tears and pleads with them that under no circumstances is she guilty of any wrong doing. The agents take turns badgering the poor woman, until she breaks down and tells them that she will do whatever it takes to clear her name. That gets them to stop badgering her, temporarily. She sends them another $2500, this time to a different address.

A day later, the scenario repeats itself. So-called agents call Jane and harass her. They change their story and their job titles but still employ the same tactics. Their goal, their mission is to rattle Jane, until she hands over money. When they get what they want, they leave her alone for a bit but will be back at it again. They do not care if Jane has to sell her home, beg, steal, whatever, so long as they get money, that is what they care about...

This crime happens every day in this country. Many times, an elderly person will fall victim to it because they may be lonely, naive, have mental problems or just desperate for cash. They are not the only victims though. Others will fall for this scam, believing that Publishers Clearing House is actually awarding them money. Having to pay taxes on winnings or delivery costs on a brand new car does not seem too far-fetched, so people pay it. It's a small sacrifice, when you think millions are coming. People will dig deep into their pockets to pay these fees, borrow money, spend their life savings, sell a home, go into debt. The scammers are professional con-artists. They can be threatening, but they can also be friendly, whatever it takes to get into a person's pocketbook. It's a cold, heartless, calculating business.

At my work I hear from people like Jane and others, who call to verify the legitimacy of these calls. Some will swear up and down that the callers and their stories are the real deal, no matter what I tell them. Scammers even go so far as to tell victims that if you believe in God, you can believe in me, and my offer is real. The lengths these people will go to rob people is unbelievable, but it happens every day.

So, if you get anything from this message, I hope that it is awareness. I only ask that you take that awareness and spread it. There are people out there, who need not be victims. All they need is a little education. Just think, Jane could be someone you know.

Single-Minded Obsession

For weeks now, my daughter has wanted new gold fish for her aquarium.  I don't mind goldfish.  They are a very minimal investment.  If they die, they can easily be replaced.  We've had goldfish for some years now.  The most we'd had at one point was eight.  My daughter names every one of them.  They each have their own separate personality.  One is called Jerky Face Lemonade (because of antics it makes), Calmer Palmer, Angel Survivor Palmer, etc.  For her birthday, in fact, the tank was starting to get crowded, so we upgraded from a 5 gallon tank to a 10 gallon tank.  The only thing I don't like about the 10-gallon tank is you really can't carry it around to change out the water so easily.  Of course, that is why they make those suctioning devices, which clean out the water.  The problem is, one should really use these and clean out the water on a regular basis.  Do I do this?  No!  Does my daughter do this?  No!!  She won't clean after her fish without much prompting.  Anyway, so she's been insisting on buying 3 fish with her allowance the past few weeks; only dad has told her only 1.  To this, she hopes that I don't hear and continually badgers me and asks me when we are going to get these fish. 

Two weeks ago, we bought a fish.  It died.  The following week, we bought one replacement fish.  It died, and now another has died.  Very sad.  It could be the water.  It could also be that fish just don't have that long of a life.  Well, my daughter started in on me last Monday (as she always does, when she wants something,) about how soon can we go to the pet store.  I remind her that I don't do impulsive pet shopping, during the week.  It must wait until the weekend.  So, Thursday rolls by, and she wants to know if we can go Friday night.  Knowing full well, that I don't want to commit and probably won't be in any kind of a mood to shop for gold fish on a Friday night, I tell her that we'll just have to wait and see.  That's the only protection I have from her incessant asking, pleading with me to have fish.  Either I postpone and put her off with every reason I can possibly come up with or she will keep badgering me.  I consider it torture, and I don't take that word lightly.  My husband can say "no" and tune her out.  For whatever reason, I cannot tune her out.  I have to close doors, leave the house or whatever.  She will not stop and leave me alone.  My daughter can be a bully! 

So, yesterday, she didn't get to buy her fish because it got too late and because she had asked one too many times, and dad put his foot down and said "no!" because of all the incessant, harassment of mom to get her a damned fish.  For two nights in a row, it's after 8:30 pm and she's asking me about going to the pet store.  I'm telling her that it's too late and that they are closing.  She doesn't care about my reasoning and insists that they are open and that we need to go.  It winds up in an argument and frustration and me not wanting to be in the same room with her.  Last night, in fact, even after my husband told her that she wasn't getting a fish because of her bugging me, she comments that she can't wait until tomorrow.  I knew exactly what that means.  She thinks she's getting a fish, and she's going to start in on me the following day about getting her a fish.  What a life!

So, this morning, she's up early, when normally she'll sleep about 10 hours on the weekend.  I know exactly what that's about.  She's obsessed all night long about getting a fish and is up and ready to get a fish.  I hear her pacing outside my door, not in front of my door.  This is just a normal ritual she has.  I've tried like everything to redirect her to another floor or outside in the yard or something, but it has to be in the same spot every time, in the middle of everything.  I'm not looking forward to leaving my room and being pounced on with her requests and am dreading her coming into my room as well.  It sounds horrible, but this is what it can be like living with a person, who has OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder).

Well, I am up and did reluctantly leave my room, which is my place of refuse in a lot of situations, although it’s far from being Fort Knox, as people have keys, bang on the door, I can hear them, etc.  It works for the most part though.  She is not bothering me about the pet store, but that’s because another fish of hers died.  Fortunately, my husband has talked some sense into her about waiting another week before bothering me about a fish again.  So, she’s moved on to another source of obsession and irritation, picking on her brother, who was trying to peacefully sleep in the living room of all places.  Yippee!!!

The Maniac Driver (presentation)

The previous entry was a speech I had given several years ago at a Toastmaster's club.  I recently decided to do something different with it and wanted to see how it would look as a blog.  I liked it.  This week, I had a speech due at my current Toastmaster's club and decided, having minimal time, that I would just recycle and fine tune this speech from about 4 years ago.  This is what I came up with:

http://youtu.be/lpEDWbxtAWg

The Maniac Driver

I first met the maniac driver, when I was a teenager, growing up in Evansville.  I was out with my date, one night, in his old, beat up, Mustang.  We came to a red light, and this sleek, black Trans am pulls up right next to us.  My date looks over, and the maniac, fishing for a challenge, revs up his engine, challenging us to race. 

My date, eager to show off his muscle car, revs up his engine, accepting the maniac’s challenge.  The “hook” had been set. The light turns green. It’s take off time! Both cars launch from the intersection, and my date starts to pass the Trans am. Just then, the maniac floors it and pulls ahead. To claim victory, the maniac, then, gleefully swerves in front of us and slams on the brakes. My date, with lightning-fast reflexes, veers off into the berm, still determined to win. Yes, my friends, this was road rage at its finest!  Luckily, we were unable to catch the maniac, and I got sick in my boyfriend’s car.  So, he was more than happy to take me home.  I never returned his calls after that.  I’m sure you understand.

One of the most rewarding experiences I have ever had was watching a police officer nail the maniac by enticing him to race. At another red light, I witnessed the maniac, once again, in his muscle car, and another driver in a Camaro was shouting out, “Hey! Wanna race?”  Of course, the maniac in the Trans am, always eager to show off the muscle in his car could not say no to this challenge.  So, they take off at the green light. The maniac follows his usual routine.  He passes the Camaro, and just as he is about to taste the sweet, hard-fought-for victory of pulling into the challenger’s lane and slamming on the brakes… the Camaro’s hidden lights and sirens come on.  Busted!  I guess that was the wrong person to race.

After moving to Fort Wayne, I thought that I had moved far far away from the maniac, but I could never have been more wrong.  Having been new to the area, I was unaccustomed to the heavy snow and the slippery roads.  I was driving along very cautiously, when, out of nowhere, I saw the maniac in my rearview mirror.  I saw him weaving in and out and in and out of traffic and speeding along, as if he was on the Autobahn. There were actually two cars that drove off into the ditch to avoid him.  Another two cars, having swerved and missed the maniac, collided into one another and caused a 10-car pileup. 

That did not deter the maniac.  He kept going and was quickly catching up to me.  As he approached closer and closer, my hands kept gripping the steering wheel tighter and tighter, when suddenly, he lost control of his vehicle and landed himself into the ditch!  Justice was served!  I was actually saved by his own crazy driving.

After that mess in the winter, I actually met up with the maniac in the summer.  It was a perfectly hot summer day, and I noticed some young girls in bathing suits holding up signs for a car wash.  The price was pretty reasonable so I stopped to get my car washed.  Just then, I hear this very annoying screeching sound, speeding towards the car wash.  Then, BOOM!  Guess who?  It was the maniac, and he had driven smack into a parked police car.  The officer was not at all happy and jumped out of his car.  He demanded that the maniac get out of his car so he could read him the riot act.  To my astonishment, the maniac was the same guy I had dated years ago in Evansville.  The police officer asks him what on earth he thought he was doing, driving 85 in a 35 mph zone, and my ex mumbled something stupid about seeing the girls in the bikinis.  What a winner!

Anyway, I got out of that situation fast, and since that summer, I haven’t seen the maniac around.  I still think he’s out there though.  There are times when I am driving along with the radio off, and I will hear sounds off in the far distance, screeches, booms, revved up engines.  The scary thing is I don’t think there’s just one maniac driver.  I think there is a whole world full of maniac drivers, probably some of you reading this.

Wasted Energy and Madness

They always say, you can choose your friends, but you can't choose your family.  This is certainly true.  Science has even gone so far with genetic engineering, as far as plants and animals are concerned, to carefully select ideal characteristics and recreate.  The thought of doing this with people spooks me and falls under the lines of creating Hitler's Supreme race, although people all of the time, alter their appearances with plastic surgery, hair extensions, make-up, dieting, and the like.

There does come a day, as a parent, where there are qualities in your offspring or yourself that you certainly would not mind altering, if given the chance.  Certainly, that is why there is such a great market for prescription medicine.  Technology has come so far with what it can do to alter moods, behaviors, etc.  It is far from being a perfect science, and you can’t suppress all undesired behaviors.  Thank goodness for that!  Variance is the spice of life.  Still, to a large degree, as a society, there are certain behaviors, body images, etc. that are more accepted than others.

Take for instance, what if you had a child that continually mooed?  That is not a typo.  What if you had a child that continually mooed like a cow and found amusement with that?  To some degree, that might be ok and maybe under certain circumstances, such as when polite company is not around. 

Let’s take it a step further, so your child likes cows or cats or guinea pigs or some other animal and prefers them to humans, watches them on youtube, mass produces pictures of them off of the internet.  No big deal, but there comes a point, where obsessive behaviors get to a point that they become a living nightmare.  I’ve mentioned some, previously.  My daughter had an obsession with having blonde hair.  That became a nightmare.  She was extracting all of the brown and black hairs, when her hair is brown.  Not good!  Another obsession would be with food.  That, in so many ways, is bad.  It wreaks havoc on her body, on her health, and causes tension with her parents, the ones who purchase all of the food.

I’m pretty sure her obsession with food, started in the behavioral hospital.  She was prescribed a medicine called Zyprexa, which to me is synonymous with non-stop eating.  Fortunately, in the hospital, she was in a controlled-environment, where she could not eat at will.  At home, food management is not so easy.  In the summer time, we’ve resorted to setting aside foods that she can have during the day.  Otherwise, foods that we planned for meals during the week, such items as shrimp, macaroni and cheese, Pasta Alfredo, will all be gone.  The higher the fat content (candy, etc.) and the more desirable the food, the more likely it is that it will be gone.  We’ve had to put a padlock on the kitchen refrigerator and a lock on the pantry.  Talking to my daughter about good eating habits and moderation does no good.  You cannot make the unreasonable reasonable. 

At some point, we had to embrace her being “unreasonable” and create strategies to work with her.  All of the talking and reasoning in the world were wasted efforts or appear to be at this point and time.  Another thing, I’ve been reading about food obsession and food being like a drug and all.  That fits my daughter to a T, so it’s just hard to work with.  Every restaurant, every bill board sign, every food ad in magazines, coupons, etc. are all reminders to my daughter of that delectable food that she must have.

Around meal times and other times, she has this habit of walking in a circle.  She walks to where I am in the kitchen, making dinner, through the hall, the dining room, and back.  It drives me crazy!  I have asked her to take her “circle walk” outside or to another floor.  She refuses.  She is completely fixated on this.  What drives me nuts about it is she gets in my personal space, wants to know what I’m making, complain about what I’m making, wants to know how soon it will be ready, etc.  Many times, I’ve thought to myself about having a baby gate to where she can’t get to me or installing a door.  I think I’ll barricade the area with chairs next time, just to see if I can keep her at bay.  It probably won’t work, but it’s worth a try.  She does not understand the concept of needing personal space, at least not when it applies to me.

She especially doesn’t understand this idea of personal space, when I want to be left alone.  I’ll be reading in my room with the dog, who is quietly minding her own business.  She comes in, starts pestering the dog, jumping on my bed to the point to where I’m a raving lunatic, insisting that she gets out of my room.  She doesn’t readily listen, so I have to physically get her out.  That’s never enough either.  I have to lock the door.  It’s frustrating that I have to take all of those added steps with her, but over time, I’ve learned that that’s what works.  To deviate from what works is just wasted energy and madness.

The biggest behavioral problem I have with her though is not her tormenting me.  It’s her picking on her 9 year-old brother.  Ok, it’s sibling rivalry!  They pick on each other, but at some point, you can’t help but wishing that one of them would back down.  Traditionally, you would expect the 17 year old too, but her reasoning capabilities are way off the mark.  Then, you turn to the 9 year old.  Sad, but it’s true, and while he does reason better than his sister, his innate, boy make-up is to torment his sister and to push on her buttons, until she turns into a screaming banshee.  It usually winds up very ugly, and she outweighs him by at least 120 pounds.  She wants to cause bodily injury to her brother and does at some points.  Then, her brother cries and turns to me.  I’m somewhat sympathetic, but I’ve tried and tried to get those two to get along and to go against their innate tendencies towards strangling each other.  I never had a brother or sister, so I’m not entirely sure I get it or that I really know how to deal with them, except when things start getting out of control.  I do know though that I will NEVER trust by son alone with his sister and that she is almost of the adult age and her actions could get her arrested.  This doesn’t deter her either. L 

So, unfortunately, it’s a little late for genetic engineering with my offspring, and prescription medicine helps to some degree.  The rest is on me just to develop strategies and ways of coping to make not-so-pleasant behaviors more tolerable.

Give You the World

If you've read the "Give You the World" entry, this is an accompanying video.  I thought it might be nice to have a recording.  I'm presenting this speech this Saturday at a speech competition.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6R9nIytrPk8

So Intense, Could Almost Blow a Gasket

I realize this is an unusual title, but something happened the other day that made me think of it.  I was at the store with my daughter, which is an unusual occurrence.  Often, I find many excuses not to take her.  This may sound really selfish and is, but I have a lot of reasons for not wanting to take her.  For starters, if she knows that I am going, she automatically goes into pilot mode and wants to know, "What's in it for me?"  Normally, she lacks motivation, but when it comes to shopping, she'll have a list ready in seconds flat that could take up to 2 pages.  So, I find myself in an endless battle of saying, "No no no!!!", and because of her OCD, which is pretty common amongst people with Aspergers, she is in an endless battle of trying to persuade me to say, "Yes yes yes!!!"  So, rather than waging war with her, making myself completely stressed and depressed that I have no control over getting her to stop, I tend to leave her at home, at least for grocery shopping.  I try to save small visits to stores for her though.  I realize that I owe it to her to give her some female shopping/bonding time.  It just has to be on my terms!  So, we'll take visits to Petsmart, where she can spend her allowance or she can come with me to a store, if I have only a few items to pick up.  This minimizes me getting overwhelmed with all of the slew of arguments, persuasion tactics, and relentless unempathetic behavior that is so common with her.  She wants what she wants and doesn't seem to care how she gets it.  She definitely does not care about my mental health or understand how she is negatively affecting me and that maybe she should go easy on mom.  She also doesn't understand the concept of you kill more flies with honey than vinegar. 

This is very interesting because my younger son does understand this concept, and he uses it quite often and gets more positive results with me than his sister.  My daughter has noticed this.  In fact, at certain times, when she wants something, she will ask her brother to ask for her.  She doesn't think that I know she does this.  So, sometimes, depending on what the request is, I will say, "Ok."  If she is askingfor fruit snacks or something minimal, then that's reasonable?  If she is begging through her brother for a pet, though, then absolutely not!  I even witnessed her telling her brother what things to ask for for his birthday.  Fortunately, he's smart enough, and I heard him tell her, "No. I don't want that, and I won't ask for that."  Still, you just have to shake your head.

Back to the store visit, I have gotten a lot more patient over the years, but part of the reason, I don't like to take my daughter shopping is she is sooo slow.  If I am in a hurry, just forget it!  She has no concept of time.  The more I tell her to hurry, it seems the more determined she is not to budge and to go her own snail pace.  Then, she has the nerve to tell me to slow down and wait.  I've tried telling her to run and catch up on several occasions.  Ha!  This approach never, ever works and never, ever will.  So, we're in the parking lot, and I'm waiting for her to get out of the car, so I can power lock my doors.  I have to tell her to get out of the car.  Then, I start walking and realize she's not keeping up.  So, I slow my gait down, and it made me think of all the lessons I've learned in school and all of the values that society thinks of as important.  It made me very sad. 

It is these values that alienate people, who have Aspergers or other handicap, from the rest of society.  Because of lessons learned in school, I have prided myself at being fast and efficient, striving for the best results possible, perfection, beauty, etc., and to a large degree, my values have caused a riff and difficulty in getting close to my daughter.  I try meeting these ideal standards, while she drags along.  I have been unable to get her to conform to society's ideals, for the most part, although she has picked up a few lessons, here and there, from people she admires, peers, grandparents, teachers, etc.  It does make one question though how much emphasis should be placed on these values.  Some people simply cannot be fast, efficient, perfect, beautiful, etc.  No matter how much they try, they won't even come close.  Where is their place in society?  That is a very difficult question, and if you are a parent of someone, who has special needs, the answers are especially hard.

In a couple of years, my daughter will be graduating high school.  The outlook is pretty grim.  Fortunately, in the United States, our government does tend to take care of its disabled.  She will be given a job coach to assist her because it is believed that with some guidance, she might be able to make some kind of living.  There is so much assistance given to the disabled that most people are unaware of.  Perhaps, in future entries, I will shed more light on that.  The services through the Medicaid Waiver, group homes, and independent living services give special-needs parents hope and some independence.  I truly hope the services will always be there.  Without them, the future is grim, and special-needs kids, who grow into special-needs adults might as well live in assisted-living hospices or forever be dependents of their parents. 

I also wonder about the future of jobs.  It is so bad for people right now.  I was downsized several years ago and, fortunately, found employment again.  So many people are out of work though, and so many jobs that could be given to adults with special-needs have been outsourced, in order for businesses to cut their costs.  The job market is especially competitive.  I just have my doubts that employers are going to go against society's grain of values and hire individuals, who aren't fast, efficient, perfect, marketable, etc., unless the government gives them really good incentives.  What's to keep the disabled from being left behind?  Time will tell.

Unpleasantries

I wish I could say that dealing with my daughter over the years was easy and something I looked forward to each and every day, but I could never say that with any inkling whatsoever of sincerity.  Perhaps, a lot of parents with Asperger children feel this same way.  She will fight me on every issue, until the cows come home and then some.  It does not matter what the issue is, for the most part.  Her job seems to be to make every simple task for me and others as difficult and painful as possible.  I will give some examples.

Administering her medicine is a god-awful job from hell.  She has two little pills to take (at the moment), which could be gone in a matter of seconds.  Instead, she drags her feet.  She tells me daily how awful it is to take, how it gets stuck in her throat, how she wants a different pill to help her lose weight, how the pills cause her to gain weight, how she doesn't feel depressed, when she misses taking them, and on and on.  Daily, I hear that, and it so frustrating.  I don't want her to take medicine.  She takes it out of necessity to function in the real world.  Should she go off it, she could have a breakdown.  Everything we've worked up to to get her to this stabilized point could all be undone.  It's a horrible position to be in for her, for me as a parent, for everyone.

Then, there's getting her to do a simple task like taking a bath.  She stretches.  She hemhaws, tells me she's busy, that she doesn't want to do it, that she hates baths, and on and on.  I just want her to take a bath, a shower, I really don't care.  She needs to be clean.  I rationalize with her all the time about how important hygiene is, how if she wants more friends, etc., that she needs to conform to this societal standard.  It doesn't matter what I say.  She's tired.  It doesn't interest her.  It's unpleasant.  She does it because I persistently bug her to do it, and even I'm not that strong to keep on her all the time, day in and day out.  I don't have that much energy, and I just don't care that much.  It creates an inner hardship for me to be such a drill seargent with my child and to make her do things that are unpleasant for her.  Her persistent nagging does eat at me from time to time, and she knows this.  It is her tactic to get her way in a lot of situations.  She does it with me, with her stepdad, with her teachers, Everyone! It is her way to get out of doing the things in life that she doesn't want to do, and it will impact her so negatively in the long run.  We tell her this (me, teachers, everyone).  We preach this to no avail!

Luckily, this year, she hasn't brought home much home work.  That's good, and it's bad.  It's good because it means that I don't have to walk through it with her, read sentences, and tell her what to write.  More or less, I do her home work for her.  She complains that reading and understanding is too hard.  She isn't retarded, but apparently, the way her mind works is it becomes overwhelmed easily with too much stimuli.  Difficult tasks must be broken down into smaller chunks, so that she can easily digest the information.

Another thing is that people, who are on the Autism spectrum, are more visual.  For instance, one year, my daughter's daily school routine was created for her in pictures.  I had tried that as far as her bathtime routine at home, but she is so unmotivated that my efforts were completely fruitless.  So, I gave up on the pictures and the note cards and just stuck to my routine of setting a microwave timer and running back and forth to and from the bathroom to make sure 1) the tub got filled with water, 2) she got her hair wet, 3) her hair got shampooed, 4) her hair got rinsed, etc.  So many people take this stuff for granted.  Their kids are independent and do all of this on their own without supervision.  My daughter is 17, and she will do this, but it's never timely.  She has no concept of time or schedules or anything.  It's all on me to be her personal timer and organizer, which is not a pleasant job at all.  I tend to give her a lot more time too than I should, just because it is so unpleasant for me.  Seriously, who on earth wants to micromanage their child's every move and in a timely fashion?  I'm like everyone else.  I have other responsibilities, taking care of the house, working, enjoying what free time I have, taking care of myself.  All the time I spend going back and forth telling her what she should be doing could be time spent getting other things accomplished, and that's what I do for the most part.  I pace myself and juggle my priorities.

The bad thing about her not having home work has to do with her unwillingness to learn new things at school.  She easily becomes overwhelmed and gives up easily.  She's always been this way.  So, in essence, she is taking very basic Math and English, and she's a junior in high school.  She is smarter than that, but her interests are very finite.  She loves animals and art but only on her own terms.  So, if Animal Science involves taking the prerequisites of Algebra and Biology, then just forget it.  Every subject she's ever taken has to be tailor-made specifically for her.  She just cannot take general education classes, and a lot of people may struggle with these, although most people do not limit their abilities and learning the way she does.

Yesterday, she tells me that she wants a good-paying job so that she can own a farm with animals, have a pond, etc.  My horrible job is to tell her how unrealistic her expectations are.  I have a notion that she is going to be on disability, and I know that people on social security don't make very much from my experiences with them at the office.  Over and over, I hear from so many different people how they are on a "fixed income", so I know what my daughter is in for.  She has the idea that she is going to be wealthy and that all her dreams are going to come true and that mom and dad are just keeping her from all of these dreams by telling her that we can't buy her every animal she wants, take her out to her favorite restaurant every time she wants, let the animals have babies, take them to the vet for every ailment, etc.  We are the enemy!  Some day, she will learn that her parents and the school are not lying to her.  We're trying to help her, but she can't be reasoned with.  She knows all, and we're just stupid.  Gotta love teenagers!

Community of Animals

I have a community of animals at my house.  This is a new concept for me.  It's one thing to have a dog, cat or other domestic pet or even multiple pets.  It's something quite entirely different to have an animal community.  What an animal community is, (for those of you, who are as in the dark about this concept as I was), is a community, where animals of different species interact with one another and actually behave and get along. 

I was brought up watching Tom and Jerry, Sylvester and Tweetie, among other shows, and didn't really think it possible for dogs, cats, guinea pigs, hermit crabs, and the such to get along.  This is the environment, though, that my daughter has nurtured at our house.  I think a lot of it has to do with the demeanor of our pets too.  Our dog, Nina, has the sweetest disposition, and she is so curious.  Any new pet that's presented to her, she immediately goes to sniffing and giving them kisses or grooming, as the case may be.  The guinea pigs and the cat tolerate it very well and don't seem to mind at all and, in fact, seem to like the attention. (Generally, we try and keep her away from the hermit crabs, though, when they are loose.)  Never have I witnessed this phenomena, until becoming a pet owner of multiple pets, so it's cool to me and just kind of broadens my appreciation of things. 

I'll come home from work and socialize with the cat, who I'm allergic to, but she's very sweet.  She has her little mannerisms, nuzzies up and paws at you, and is very friendly.  She lives in our garage for the winter but is always trying to run into the house and so wants to be a part of the family and everything else that is going on. 

Then, I see the dog, who is always excited and happy to see me, after having spent time away.  She really likes to get involved with family hugs and jumps in, if my husband and the kids are rough housing.  You can tell it upsets her, if either one of us gets irritated with the kids.  She also has her regular routines.  At dinner, she's always around no matter, who is cooking and is ready to shake paws, give high 5's, speak, etc., for some yummy morsels.  I'm also the main person, who lets her in and out of the house for whatever reason.  It makes me feel like kind of a revolving-door opener, at times, and does get old, especially if I am at home for long periods of time.  She also very much enjoys spending time with me, no matter what I am doing.  She's very loyal that way.  Right now, in fact, I'm typing on the laptop, and she chose to be here instead of with the kids, who might play with her or my husband.  I'm not sure why she does this.  I'm not entertaining her or giving her attention.  Maybe I'm just comforting to her.  I won't look a gift horse in the mouth though and will just be content in knowing she cares for me.  She also likes family TV time and looks forward to her routine of saying "good night" to every one of the family members.  You couldn't ask for a better pet.

Our guinea pig, Oreo, is also Mr. Personality.  My daughter carries him around with her a lot and takes him on walks with her.  She has even crocheted jackets for him.  He likes to scurry around, is very affectionate, and does like to eat fruits and veggies, when offered.  He is most animated at bedtime, when he runs all over his cage, climbs up on his hollowed-out log, and actually hops over it.  He is quite the excitable, little critter.  I just love his animated personality.

So, part of our animal community is taking the animals with us, when we go places.  We'll take the dog for a walk, while my daughter holds her guinea pig.  Our animals all love trips in the car too and especially to Petsmart or the park.  I often frown on taking all three though.  I have concerns about my allergies with the cat, and the guinea pig needs to be in a carrier or could get messy in the car.  I wish my daughter had more concerns about this pet and hygiene, but she doesn't.  Her enthusiasm for her guinea pig far outweighs her concern for cleanliness any old day.  That is more of a neuro-typical concern, I guess.

So, the pets in so many ways are like people.  They all have their separate personalities and just add a whole different dimension to our family, a positive one.  It is like they are dependents too, so rather than having 2 children, I have 5 (and 7, if you include the hermit crabs.)  Just the animals aren't quite as high maintenance or as expensive as the kids, although they too cost money in the way of food, pet supplies, and vet bills, if needed.  They add a nice dimension to the family, and it's so good that everyone gets along.  They feel a part of us, and we are a part of them.  We are our own community.  They're not just pets.  They are individuals.

The Fear of Speaking: How Does One Conquer That Fear?

That is such an interesting question, and I got to try my hand at conquering that fear today.  Several weeks ago, I was telling an acquaintance of mine that I was going to be in an upcoming speech competition, and she was completely dumbstruck.  She had mentioned that so many people are afraid of public speaking, let alone the possibility of competing in it.  There are people, who would rather face death or pain, as opposed to getting up and talking in front of group. 

So, how does one overcome this fear?  It's funny you should ask because I am not so sure one ever truly overcomes this, although I will say that there are beneficial ways of dealing with it. 

Today, while I was at my contest, even before I got there, I started getting nervous.  The funny thing is I have been rehearsing this speech for weeks and was familiar with it and had even presented it to my Toastmasters (speaking support) group a couple of times.  I have been a member of this group for about 3 1/2 years, and it has helped me tremendously.  So, what was I afraid of?  It wasn't like it was my first time competing even.  To be exact, it was my 4th time.  So what was the deal?

I would have to say that there are different levels of fear.  When a person confronts an audience for the first time, it can be terrifying.  I've been there myself.  You worry about how you look, that you'll look stupid, that you'll sound stupid, that someone else is better qualified, more confident, and on and on.  I'll admit I wasn't at that level.  I've had too much experience and coaching to be that concerned or so it would seem.  When one competes you do have big concerns, that is, if you actually care about winning, which I did.  You care about those scrutinizing eyes watching you and comparing you to others and whether your nervousness showing through is going to make you a dismal failure.  So before that competition, as I was waiting for them to call my name, I was very conscious of my stress level running high and my heart racing and realizing all of the horrible effects nervousness could have on my presentation.  You can forget your lines, turn beat red, forget to talk loud so people can hear you, flop up your words, etc.  It could be a complete disaster.  I so did not want it to be a disaster.  That would have meant that all of the time I had spent preparing for this presentation would have been a waste.  I was desperate and just kept telling myself, "You can do this. Just do it the way you practiced. Be confident. You've done this before."  All of those words really didn't seem to help that much, so I tried some other tactics.

When I first started Toastmasters, I received in my starter packet several books with tips on how to do better at speaking.  Some of the tips that I remember that I have found helpful are remembering that your audience actually wants you to succeed.  I don't think a lot of people realize this, but it is true.  When you do well, it benefits the audience.  Everyone's happy.  You've conveyed a message.  They've received it.  All is good!  Another thing is if you know you're nervous, use relaxation techniques.  I did this today, and the calmness finally kicked in.  I finally got my grip and performed at my personal best and then some!

What I did was took some deep breaths and slowly released them.  I did my best to use some meditation techniques, i.e. slowing down the mind's processes, the heart rate, the anxiety, through focusing on being calm, and it really does work!  Having lessened my anxiety, I was able to focus on things that I needed to focus on like, "Am I connecting with my audience, holding their interest, and engaging them with eye contact? Is my message coming across exactly the way or better than I had intended?"

All of this may seem overwhelming to a person, who has never given a speech or is terrified of speaking.  The nice thing about, when I did join my Toastmasters group is it is a very nonthreatening group, which allows you to ease into speaking.  No one will throw you out to the wolves or force you to get out of your comfort zone, until you are ready.  In fact, I don't think I gave a speech for 3 months.  There were different roles that needed filled.  If you are new, you might be asked if you want to say a few words, and if you say "no", then that is respected.  Members of the group are well aware of the fear factor involved in speaking and do not want to scare people away.  It is entirely a support group.  In fact, mentors are assigned to new people, and there are always evaluators assigned.  Evaluators give very tactful, constructive criticism and encouragement to help foster growth and confidence.  There is a booklet one works from too that assigns different things to work on.  For example, there is the "Ice breaker" speech, where you talk about yourself.  There is the "Organizing thoughts" assignment.  Gradually, the assignments get a little harder, as a speaker acquires more skills.  It can be very encouraging to look back at assignments and to see remarks from evaluators and to see how you have improved or where you need to improve.  It can definitely give you a sense of accomplishment and does build confidence.

In fact, I had seen much improvement in my email correspondence at work.  It helped bolster my confidence to take on more leadership roles.  I had become a volunteer coordinator, organizing book fairs, fundraisers, emergency preparedness training, training managers on new processes, etc.  That was at my former work place.  I'm still active in the leadership role department.  It has definitely made a difference in my professional and personal life.  I'm a much better communicator.

In a nutshell, those are some of my suggestions for alleviating some of the fears of public speaking.  Hopefully, these suggestions can be of some help to you in your pursuits as well.

And These are Your Options...

There comes a time, when as a parent, you just want to give up.  Some people have greater thresholds of tolerance to adversity than others.  I've had people commend me for being a strong parent and amazed at what I'm able to tolerate, and they are adamant that they could not deal with what I've dealt with.  But, I'm no hero, and I can tell you that so many people view the world differently, based on their own experiences.  I've had praises, but I've also had harsh criticisms.

The roughest ride I've encountered was when my daughter first came home from the behavioral hospital.  She was put on this medicine called Zyprexa, which caused rapid weight gain.  She was outgrowing her clothes left and right, so I was constantly having to go and buy new clothes, which can be an expensive commodity.  So her behavior was an issue, although it was a lot more under control.  Then, this new issue of weight gain was becoming a problem.  Not only that, but she had sensory issues, which basically means that due to comfort issues, she is very particular about the clothes she wears.  For instance, jeans are not soft, especially around a growing belly.  Elastic waistbands are entirely uncomfortable.  Polyester shirts and sweaters were completely out of the question because the girl's temperature always ran hot.  I don't care if it was -2F, the girl would try and wear shorts and t-shirts. 

So, I was very limited as to what I could buy my daughter clothes-wise.  Her wardrobe consisted of very comfortable pants and t-shirts, so not very stylish.  There's been many a time, where I've looked at cute, stylish outfits in what should have been her size and just felt despair.  Also, I had trouble trying to figure out where to buy her things.  All the places that I normally shopped at for my daughter did not have plus sizes for kids, and never having been a plus size myself, I really hadn't a clue about where to shop.  Eventually, I discovered that JC Pennys had a Plus section for girls, so that was the only place I shopped for a while. 

It seemed a big inconvenience.  I enjoyed the luxury of being able to go to whatever store I wanted to, of my choosing, and especially to discount stores.  Being limited to one store seemed like so much of a hassle.  Then, there came a time, when she outgrew the girls Plus sizes, and my mother in law encouraged me to look at women's clothes for her.  At that time, Amber was in middle school, and the women's clothes either were too expensive, too sexy, or too old/fuddy-duddy.  I was so frustrated about how there wasn't a market out there for kids like mine.  I hated it that I couldn't conveniently buy clothes for her and resisted shopping for her as much as possible, which somewhat caused some tension between me and the school. 

The problem I encountered was I had a daughter's tummy that was steadily growing, and she was managing to break dress code on a daily basis.  It wasn't that her clothes didn't fit, at least that wasn't the case all the time, but she would stretch her arms out and purposely expose her abdomen.  I got emails from the school about this behavior on a regular basis and was half tempted to have my daughter wear my husband's shirts.  I never did that though.  It was just a temptation.

After a period of time, we took my daughter to see my husband's uncle, who is an Alternative Medicine specialist.  He met with us and made some recommendations, as far as some supplements to take.  I apologize, but I don't remember the names of these.  They weren't your normal, everyday ones like St. John's Wort and all of those.  They were a combination of ones that promoted overall health and balance.  She took 3 different ones plus her medicine, so 6 supplements at varying times a day plus 5 pills at varying times a day.  It was very depressing for me.  I felt like such a pill pusher. 

The reason for the alternative medicine is I wanted to try and wean her off of her medicine, and to some degree, I did.  In the end, though, it wasn't worth it.  We were spending a $100 in alternative medicine plus $100 in prescription meds, and I could never entirely wean her off of the prescription medicine.  The fact is, the prescription medicine gives quicker results and is less costly, even though it's more damaging in the long run.  You just can't give a mentally imbalanced person alternative medicine alone and expect them to be normal.  It's just not possible.  What's really irritating is the medical society in the United States won't join forces with the Alternative Medicine community to find natural remedies to actually help their patients.  The drug companies have way too much power!  On top of everything, it seemed the most benefit my daughter derived from the food supplements were these super, strong toe nails that frequently pushed holes through her socks.  ANOTHER PROBLEM!!!  ANOTHER EXPENSE!!!

So, I backed off of the Alternative therapy and just muddled through the day-to-day life of having a child with discipline problems, weight gain issues, medicine, and other things that came up.  She hasn't had the normal childhood of being in sports, music, dance, etc., although I have had her involved in some swimming and short-term classes offered at the YMCA.  Some of those classes I could not bare to watch her in because she was just so defiant.  I had her stop going to some.  I've felt it important to try and give her diverse life experiences, like what I had growing up as a kid.  She didn't seem to appreciate them at the time, although she seemed to when she got older and asked to be enrolled in classes that sadly weren't available because, by then, she was too old and they didn't offer them to her age group.  So, back to the drawing board. 

Life with her is constantly evolving.  Some doors may close, but other open doors have presented themselves.  It hasn't all been bad, by any means.  It's just been a struggle and makes you relish triumphs that much more.

Between the Lines

This was the third blog post previously written by my husband, which I had removed, but need to include in order for future posts to make sense. I'm just minimizing the usage of pictures for privacy reasons.

My name is Chris Heffley.  I am the husband.  With my wife’s gracious permission, I hope to contribute what I can to this blog.  Raising our children has been a team effort.  Kristal and I met, when Amber was three.  As I am a child of divorce, raised by four loving parents, it was my goal to provide Amber with the same environment.  I have always considered Amber my first child; I had been given a good example throughout my life of how not to make the “biological” or “step” distinction.  I was always treated as a son by my mother and stepfather growing up.  There are many, many, times when I would have preferred to have been less noticed or even outright ignored, but I usually got caught doing whatever it was I wasn’t supposed to be doing in the first place.  This subject could probably fill a couple more blogs, but that was my adolescence and not Amber’s.

Kristal Says “First grade was not a fun time for Amber or our family.”

 This was the understatement of the year. 

Daycare and First grade were absolute HELL.  Neither Kristal nor I were “Disciplinary problems” as children.  I don’t know if being a rebel rouser as a kid can prepare you for this or not, but coming from a fairly innocent, possibly naïve, background certainly doesn’t give you any more great wisdom of how to handle a child with “discipline” problems.  When I heard the term “discipline problem”, to me it meant that Kristal and I were somehow failing to properly “discipline” Amber.   I knew she was a “rambunctious” child.  I had been told so by friends and family at visits and parties.  I certainly knew she was “more trouble” than I was as a child.  There were many subtle and not so subtle ways I had been told in the three years that I had already known Amber that she was “different.”  After a while it gives you a complex, how is it that I am such a rotten parent.  Don’t worry; I have defiantly gotten over that.  You do develop self-doubt, you can’t help asking “what am I doing that is causing my child to be so “different”?” It becomes a roller coaster of emotion.  First you want your child to be happy, but you need to teach them to be able to “fit in” to society, if you don’t, they may not be happy…. 

At the end of every day at daycare and school we were given some kind of “problem” report.  Amber won’t pay attention, she is disturbing other students, she won’t stay in her seat, calling other students names, she is acting “inappropriate”, and on and on…..    Eventually we were constantly trying to address Amber’s behavior so she could go to daycare and school without being a “discipline problem”.    As Kristal has said we tried time out, 1-2-3 magic, taking privileges away, giving rewards and many more, so many I have forgotten. 

It consumed our life. . . .

                            It accomplished little or nothing. . . . . . .

                                                It was extremely frustrating . . . .  

                                                             It was happening every single day. . . .

 We were worn out . . . . .  

We had also, just begun our journey.

The Meeting (oh, by the way, your child is special)

Kristal talked about our meeting with Amber’s elementary school.  I must put in my two cents here also.  This meeting happened in the last weeks of school; Kristal was 9 months and 35 days pregnant. 

Ok, just trust me she was really, really, close, looked like she had a watermelon in there.   Not one of those seedless ones, I mean belly sticking out a block in front of her hobbling around like a penguin.  The suit case was packed for the hospital, Lamaze class certificate in my wallet, full tank of gas in the car at all times. We were close!!!!

This is not to say that we were too preoccupied with the birth of our second to be dealing with the “discipline problems” of our first.  Quite the opposite we were so overstimulated by all the issues in our life, I am surprised we retained our sanity. 

The meeting was surreal.  Our daughter’s school was now officially telling us that Amber was “special needs”.  It went on for at least an hour, maybe more. There were four of them and two and three quarters of us; remember the watermelon was there too.  They break it to you in stages.  You get a sprinkling of test results here, some professional opinions there, a few forms to sign right here, all mixed in with just enough legal mumbo jumbo to keep your head spinning for hours. 

I should say, I completely support our school system.  I also think that we are very lucky to have been in a good school system.  For the most part, they have been helpful in dealing with our daughter for many years.  They have a skill I do not have, and you couldn’t pay me enough to do their job!

When a professional educator tells you your kid is special needs you take notice . . . .  

I have heard of parents who fight the label. 

I have heard of parents who remove their child from the public school and choose private or to home school their child. 

I think there are about as many reactions to this as there are people. 

I think each parent must make their own conclusions about what is best for their child.

I was calmly horrified and relieved. . . .

I was calm because I couldn’t really handle horror with everything else that was going; remember the watermelon?  I was relieved because we were moving in a direction.  At this point any movement away from what we were currently doing was good with me.

A few days later on June 3, 2001 despite or because of my 3 years of efforts with Amber, she learned to ride a bike.

Oh yeah, that watermelon got pulled out four days after that, and it was our 10 pound 3 ounce son.  It was the last day of school before summer break and we had already had quite an adventure.

Trichotillomania (just another bump on the road)

I must admit I don’t understand the hair pulling.  At the time I did a lot of research on Trichotillomania.   There are many more people, who contend with this than I ever imagined.  There are all kinds of theories on the internet, one of them connecting ingesting foods like eggs to the disorder.  It was interesting, since eggs are still one of Amber’s favorite foods, but I wasn’t convinced.  She still eats eggs but doesn’t pull her hair out anymore.  The why, of the disorder really didn’t concern me, figuring out how to stop it consumed our family.

How do you stop it?  You talk, you reward, you yell, you cry . . . .

None of our efforts could stop it.  Scarfs, gloves, hats. . .   You just couldn’t watch her every second of every day.  As soon as she could get one second, where someone wasn’t watching she would pull one more hair.   I have heard it called a ritualistic almost grooming or over-grooming behavior like nail biting.  To me it was just horrifying.

It was absolutely horrifying; to see a 7 year old girl, pull all of her hair, out of her head, in a matter of a few weeks, one hair at a time. 

The Last Straw (when special becomes scary)

We have now moved forward in time to February or March of 2002.

 I could check the hospital bills and get you the exact date but I don’t think it matters that much.  I do remember the total was around $40,000.  Yep, that’s right FOUR-TY THOU-SAND DOL-LARS.  Don’t know if that is a lot to you, but it was about my salary for the year at that time, before they took out taxes. O-U-C-H.  We did have health insurance through Kristal’s work that covered most of it, like 99%.  I still think it is important to mention the amount even if we didn’t have to pay out of pocket.  It is not monopoly money, it came from our insurance.  What if we didn’t have insurance?  I don’t even want to think of that.  I feel for people, who cannot afford health insurance, but that is another blog.  So I could look up the bills, but I don’t want to see them again and I am rambling off topic.    

Amber is now almost hairless, has lost about as much weight as physically possible, and is constantly moving.  I mean really moving in odd ways.  She is doing somersaults up and down our hall nonstop.  She looks scary.  I look back at photos of Christmas 2001 and can see the changes.  She looks like an anorexic. 

How did we get here???

I have looked back many times to this particular period.  It was the time between the birth of our son and Amber’s first admission into the hospital.  What I have taken away from this experience is the science of treating mental health is more educated trial and error than most of us uninitiated realize. I once had this naïve, optimistic, outlook that when we started down the medicine journey, there would be some chemical or combination of chemicals that would just fix it all.  Or at the very least make Amber behave “normal.”  So far, we have not found that “ Holy Grail.”  I have since seen the almost medical results of psychiatric medicine, when it brought my mother back from one of the darkest times in her life.  We have not yet achieved any medicine-induced breakthrough moments with Amber.  In all honesty, there have been many times I have questioned if the medicine is “worth it” or “doing more harm than good.”  We usually are reminded later in one way or another, at least for Amber, how necessary the medications are.

 After our “special” meeting with Amber’s school, we were referred to a school recommended psychiatrist.  I will tell you in advance, this did not end well.  While I am sure the doctor was doing his best, I feel like, in hindsight, that there wasn’t enough emphasis on collecting good information about Amber’s symptoms.  I think that he has seen so many “rambunctious”, “hyperactive”, and distracted kids referred to him by the schools, that he had fallen into a rut of labeling all kids as “ADHD”.   I don’t believe Amber ever fit into that pigeon hole, no matter how hard they tried to stuff her in.  The actual major diagnosis was Oppositional Defiant  Disorder, which is just a nice way of saying she won’t do what she is told to do and more often than not, will try to do just the opposite.  I have had many other terms for it throughout her life, but we won’t go into that . . . 

The end result of our meeting with the first doctor was that Amber was put on Adderall.   I am not a chemist, but basically Adderall is a stimulant.   Through extensive research we have found stimulants are bad for Amber.  Maybe bad is not a strong enough word, they are a disaster.   She was a mess.  It took all of her “special” characteristics, and turned them up to insane levels.  In eight months, she went from special to an absolute walking chaos.  Constant movement, like Kristal said, “She did the repetitive headstands and somersaults”.  I hope most of you cannot imagine what this truly means.  Amber would do somersaults, whenever she was not sleeping or eating.  She could not or would not set still.  While all this was going on, keep in mind we had an infant in the house.  We had found our own psychiatrist, but the medicine changes were not getting results.  I think it takes a long time for a doctor to truly understand what is going on without 24/7 observation. 

I can vividly recall our frustration with the whole situation.  Kristal would take Amber to appointments, and we would be trying a new medicine after each appointment but with little or no results.  I remember thinking that surely the doctor must be seeing someone else’s kid because what they are doing isn’t helping anything.  This went on for about six months.  One night, we ended up in the emergency room.  We had given Amber her medicine and put her to bed.  A few minutes later Amber called out to us.  When we tried to talk to her, she sounded like she was drunk.  Then, we noticed her tongue had swollen up about twice its normal size.  We immediately put her in the car and drove to the hospital fearing it was going to swell further and she could suffocate.  Once there, they gave her some medicine to reduce the swelling, and we took her home a couple of hours later. 

Everything finally just slowly spun out of control to the point, where we decided to have Amber admitted to the behavioral hospital.  She was almost bald from pulling her hair out, her spine was red from rolling over and over doing somersaults, and she looked like if she lost another pound she was going to blow away.

Amber’s First Sleepover

I think every parent can appreciate the mix of joy and anxiety that comes with their child’s first sleep over.  On the one hand, you are concerned about your baby leaving the nest.  On the other, while your children are gone you get some rare couple time. In our situation couple was almost nonexistent.  Ok, so Amber wasn’t at a friend’s house spending the night, she was in mental hospital, and we still had an infant at home.   But believe me it was quite relaxing compared to what had become the norm in our life.  Sometimes, it takes stepping out of a situation to fully realize just how bad it is.  Things had just gradually escalated to the point of chaos, and we had grown accustomed to it. I felt guilty, when I realized just how good it felt not to be dealing with the constant terror of the behaviors that had consumed our lives.

Amber’s stay in the hospital was an eye-opening experience.  It was the first time anyone told me that her behaviors were not our fault.  Don’t get me wrong, people just don’t tell you that you are bad parents when your child misbehaves, but the implications are not so veiled.  Typically, the friendly parental advice got me.  Like, “Have you tried time outs, (you idiot)?” or the recommendations of books or even parenting classes.  I am sorry, I hear them, and I think, “Oh, apparently, I need a manual or some sort of instruction for what has come naturally to the rest of the human race for thousands of years.  I must be “special” also.”  I don’t care how hard people try to be professional or nice, they judge parents based on the behavior of their own children. 

This was the first time ever a professional told me that we are dealing mostly with a chemical imbalance causing this behavior and not the environment.  It made me feel better about myself.  After all, Kristal and I were also responsible for raising our now infant son, and if we were screwing up this bad  . . . .

During those four weeks, it was like living someone else’s life.   We would visit every day and had fallen into a routine that worked it all out.  There was no chaos in our lives and was for the most part relaxing.    Kristal and I got to enjoy our new son together, something we hadn’t done for the first six months of his life.  In the end, we transitioned slowly to having Amber back at home, and as Kristal said made some positive changes for her daycare.    I don’t want to paint too rosy of a picture.  There were still issues, when she came home.  But Amber was better on the meds, and Kristal and I could deal with her without needing them ourselves.