w00t w00t booyah

Okay. Two things happened yesterday.

One, school got a letter from therapist (at my urging) outlining kid being seen in a therapeutic environment, meeting criteria for separation anxiety.

Two, his teacher is on vacation and he has a substitute.

So...that means at the end of the day, the substitute decides kid is going on field trip tomorrow to go bumper bowling with the rest of his class.

Phone call, everything. They called both of us until they reached one of us. (Me? On phone dealing with appointments. Go figure.)

Jim already had the day off to take him to the new school to check them - so that had to be rescheduled, but. He's going along on field trip - he just can't ride the bus with kid to do it. I'm fine with that.

So - in one fell swoop, I have kid back on field trips and parent allowed to attend and observe. Note things one and two.

I've told Jim I want answers. Too good. Waaaay too easy, with the month and a half we've put in.

If this is a teacher issue, not a school issue - end result is the same, but I'm going to be even less impressed.

But - I hope kid has a great time. He's earned it.

Me? Waiting for the other shoe to fall.

We got a break Thursday. A HUGE one.

I can dance on desks. I know how health care organizations go together in my state (oh boy, do I) - that, plus plenty of motivation to do something RIGHT NOW OR ELSE created a situation last week where I was on the phone most of every spare moment talking to case managers (at least three of them) insisting my kid needed services NOW NOW NOW.

Thursday afternoon, 4:30 PM, we got an appointment with Kaiser 8:30 AM the next morning. We took it.

We got him in, worked up and we can now get services appropriate to an adoptee suffering from separation anxiety (whether it is actually a disorder or just features, TBD) and my kid now gets a break. I can insist on shorter days. I can insist on one of us sitting in the classroom. I can INSIST on what I know will help.

And I got some advice on sleeping that is working like a treat. It was suggested I play music at night to dampen the hyper-vigilance of 'what is THAT' when the house shifted at night. So I went and got an iDog at the local toy store and hooked up the shuffle to it.

We quickly found that playing the music we had played going to school the past two years put kid out in minutes, as opposed to hours. Last night, he fought it a bit (hey, a three hour nap will do that - he was only tired, not exhausted), but it still shortened the length of time to sleep considerably. Also, it stopped making us the mean parents insisting on compliance, this was fun - all win.

The approach of 'what can we put BACK?' helps the most. He's getting a lunch packed again every morning - instead of being made to eat whatever is on the menu. He plays learning games on my iPod on the drive over. You never really think of everything that changes with a change in location, but those had gone completely under the radar. Little things.

I still see a stressed kid when his Dad isn't around, but it isn't as complete a lock up.

But you ought to see my calendar. Holy crap, it's a total dance card from hell.

Tomorrow, a ride along at the Montessori School near the water - cross fingers. I'm hoping - half dreading - that this will be a better fit. Hoping, because we keep control over the school environment. Dreading, because it's costlier and more driving that we have now. Regardless, kid will be getting therapy going forward for this - hopefully, we 'll see it wane. And he'll get better at managing it himself, instead of us modifying everything around him (which we are seriously doing right now, and have since he came home).

The finances are a wreck. No surprise there, right? Oh, and his birthday party is in two weeks. Watch me pulling flying monkeys out of my ass!

See icon. That's me, trying to deal with six year old with separation anxiety.

He hates school. Can't say I'm surprised, they aren't impressed at all with him either. He won't sit still, won't pay attention to directions, distracts himself by playing with his shoes, pestering the kid next to him, talking talking talking talking....

But give him a task, and he's all over it. Let him do worksheets - he loves it. But no, this is a summer session and that would be WORK. Their idea of a summer break is going to be the end of us.

He's been benched from ever leaving the school on a field trip again. That's nearly $200 down the drain because - ta da! - it's his fault. (Yes, you have to pay for field trips. Why yes, yes we did. In advance. Why wouldn't we?)

I take him to Kaiser - they look at age, gender, starting kindergarden and disregard the parents telling the LCSW about the international adoption at age 3.5? Yanno, the one that scared him shitless? THAT ONE?

Oh no. ADHD. Go sign up for parenting classes, you dumbass. And get ready to start drugging your kid, some of them actually do well as adults. Hope you were expecting to institutionalize him at some point. Get out. Your turn is over, there's somebody waiting outside. Scram.

Welcome to becoming a statistic.

And he's still scared.

The next thing you hear is 'make sure you're taking care of yourself - you need to get respite!' Suuuuure. My kid is so uncertain about where his parents are, he's checking to see when my next church meeting is. Which is once a month or so. When's the next one, Mom? Now? Now?

I'm about glued to him as it is, and I don't dare go far. And I'm the one he hates.

He about comes unglued every time Jim leaves the room. Since he leaves first in the morning, and I take kid to school four days a week? I have a kid ready to run after the car every day, even though I'm sitting right there. 9 times out of 10, I'm also the only one insisting that shush means shush (not talk louder to be heard), so I am also not the Nice One. He wants Daddy. Well, shit kid so do I.

The motor mouth when tired. The yackity yack in bed once he's been put there. The lack of napping, so I have a bucket of bolts at the end of the day. No cope. None. No television, nothing. No fun at all.

This morning, he woke up tantruming. Fired us all. Said everyone was mean to him. I replied that when he didn't behave, he was the meanest one in the room. Meant it. The tantrum? Get up, put your toys back on your bed and get dressed. I put the toys back. Oh, the humanity.

He remembers everything. The clarity of process in this kid really dissuades me from jumping back to the hyperactivity bandwagon. It also makes me wonder how much he remembers prior to adoption, and what exactly happened.

The being cute to get out of it makes me wonder most of all. Did they try to place him prior to us, and it failed because he wouldn't behave? All he had to do was what he's doing now - and voila, back with foster parents. You remember, the ones he cried nine months for and begged us to return him to? Those parents.

The amount of work right now, just trying to get services in - and making sure he stays in a school setting right now? All hands, the cook and any politician I can drag into the fray. Really.

He's still scared. And I'm so angry I can barely think straight.

See icon. That's me, trying to deal with six year old with separation anxiety.

He hates school. Can't say I'm surprised, they aren't impressed at all with him either. He won't sit still, won't pay attention to directions, distracts himself by playing with his shoes, pestering the kid next to him, talking talking talking talking....

But give him a task, and he's all over it. Let him do worksheets - he loves it. But no, this is a summer session and that would be WORK. Their idea of a summer break is going to be the end of us.

He's been benched from ever leaving the school on a field trip again. That's nearly $200 down the drain because - ta da! - it's his fault. (Yes, you have to pay for field trips. Why yes, yes we did. In advance. Why wouldn't we?)

I take him to Kaiser - they look at age, gender, starting kindergarden and disregard the parents telling the LCSW about the international adoption at age 3.5? Yanno, the one that scared him shitless? THAT ONE?

Oh no. ADHD. Go sign up for parenting classes, you dumbass. And get ready to start drugging your kid, some of them actually do well as adults. Hope you were expecting to institutionalize him at some point. Get out. Your turn is over, there's somebody waiting outside. Scram.

Welcome to becoming a statistic.

And he's still scared.

The next thing you hear is 'make sure you're taking care of yourself - you need to get respite!' Suuuuure. My kid is so uncertain about where his parents are, he's checking to see when my next church meeting is. Which is once a month or so. When's the next one, Mom? Now? Now?

I'm about glued to him as it is, and I don't dare go far. And I'm the one he hates.

He about comes unglued every time Jim leaves the room. Since he leaves first in the morning, and I take kid to school four days a week? I have a kid ready to run after the car every day, even though I'm sitting right there. 9 times out of 10, I'm also the only one insisting that shush means shush (not talk louder to be heard), so I am also not the Nice One. He wants Daddy. Well, shit kid so do I.

The motor mouth when tired. The yackity yack in bed once he's been put there. The lack of napping, so I have a bucket of bolts at the end of the day. No cope. None. No television, nothing. No fun at all.

This morning, he woke up tantruming. Fired us all. Said everyone was mean to him. I replied that when he didn't behave, he was the meanest one in the room. Meant it. The tantrum? Get up, put your toys back on your bed and get dressed. I put the toys back. Oh, the humanity.

He remembers everything. The clarity of process in this kid really dissuades me from jumping back to the hyperactivity bandwagon. It also makes me wonder how much he remembers prior to adoption, and what exactly happened.

The being cute to get out of it makes me wonder most of all. Did they try to place him prior to us, and it failed because he wouldn't behave? All he had to do was what he's doing now - and voila, back with foster parents. You remember, the ones he cried nine months for and begged us to return him to? Those parents.

The amount of work right now, just trying to get services in - and making sure he stays in a school setting right now? All hands, the cook and any politician I can drag into the fray. Really.

He's still scared. And I'm so angry I can barely think straight.

And kid wants NOTHING to do with any of it.

Me? I'm down to trite gambatte ne's and the like.

Be strong, little guy. I know you can do it.

(Really wish I could make it clear why telling him 'this is going to be so much fun' doesn't help when he's lost everyone he knew...all he wants to do is go home with Mommy and Dada and STAY THERE.)

Sitting on my hands. Worried like whoa.

Today is Xander's last day with his preschool. Yes, he'll be back one more day for graduation - but this? This is the last routine, pack your lunch, take your blanket, have a nice day - day.

After this, he's a grade-schooler, starting with kindergarten. No turning back.

He's a wreck, to be blunt. All of a sudden, there are new people with more demands - and they want results, guys - and all of it with strange people in a strange place and the only consistency is us...making him do it.

Courage, Emily.

Insist he try to work it out himself. Insist he do it alone, unaided. Be there to support, but don't do it for him.

It's tough being a little kid sometimes. And I'm seeing all of the stuff one could expect - but thankfully, no more than what is dead in the center for it. He's eating. He's sleeping. He's not enjoying it, but he's slogging through it.

I'd congratulate him, except he's just manage to survive the process - this was never his idea. That's for when he gets through kindergarten, I think. Right now, get through today. Get through the week.

He's going to miss his friends.

I'm going to miss one of my most reliable, tried and true resources for caring for him.

He's telling me he doesn't want to go. I'm telling him it gets better.

God, don't make me a liar.

Today is Xander's last day with his preschool. Yes, he'll be back one more day for graduation - but this? This is the last routine, pack your lunch, take your blanket, have a nice day - day.

After this, he's a grade-schooler, starting with kindergarten. No turning back.

He's a wreck, to be blunt. All of a sudden, there are new people with more demands - and they want results, guys - and all of it with strange people in a strange place and the only consistency is us...making him do it.

Courage, Emily.

Insist he try to work it out himself. Insist he do it alone, unaided. Be there to support, but don't do it for him.

It's tough being a little kid sometimes. And I'm seeing all of the stuff one could expect - but thankfully, no more than what is dead in the center for it. He's eating. He's sleeping. He's not enjoying it, but he's slogging through it.

I'd congratulate him, except he's just manage to survive the process - this was never his idea. That's for when he gets through kindergarten, I think. Right now, get through today. Get through the week.

He's going to miss his friends.

I'm going to miss one of my most reliable, tried and true resources for caring for him.

He's telling me he doesn't want to go. I'm telling him it gets better.

God, don't make me a liar.

Originally posted by kythryne at internet powers, activate!

(Hat tip shadesong.)

And it started yesterday with me bringing kid home early due to just not being able to stay in care one more minute without someone blowing a gasket at daycare. I mean - eating your lunch in the director's office because you can't sit and do it with your friends? And then still not getting it?

When he wouldn't nap, I took him home. He slept for nearly three hours. He then got it, chapter and verse, that no - we're not going to wheedle any more. You do - or do not - but if you do not, there are consequences.

One of them was the Daddy huggy at bedtime because he decided it would be better to be naughty instead. Uh no.

Man, all the apologies in the world and demands? Didn't get the huggy back. Who knew?

He's going to need to eat before going to school - new school doesn't do breakfasts, only lunch and snacks. Breakfast this AM? Let's see how long I can drag this out. Um, nope. That didn't work either.

I see a kid going hungry a few times in the near future until he figures it out. He surely did in foster care, but one can hope this will resolve. Trying to remember me at this age, I'm pretty sure some additional 'aids' were employed, including spankings and worse. (I know I spent a lot of time alone at the table after everyone else had left - sit me in front of cold, steamed spinach? I still can't eat that stuff.)

We got in, signed in and introduced - and kid essentially shut down. In the morning, this class draws and reads books. Old school? Toy play - and often more aggressive play than I was happy with. That's going to take some getting used to. (No, you will not get to make guns out of Legos and chase your friends around the room.) I talked him into drawing Daddy a picture, said my goodbyes - updated the teacher on yesterday's escapades and left for work. Felt like I just thrown him to very polite, orderly lions. They have awesome fish, though.

Got in earlier, even stopped at a better Starbucks - all good things. I just feel for him, though. And hate how breakfast didn't come together. Work in progress - guess I'm going to have to choose my battles with more care. (And not let Daddy decide that food that is a toy is what's for breakfast.)

Not a fun job today. Or an adventure.

And it started yesterday with me bringing kid home early due to just not being able to stay in care one more minute without someone blowing a gasket at daycare. I mean - eating your lunch in the director's office because you can't sit and do it with your friends? And then still not getting it?

When he wouldn't nap, I took him home. He slept for nearly three hours. He then got it, chapter and verse, that no - we're not going to wheedle any more. You do - or do not - but if you do not, there are consequences.

One of them was the Daddy huggy at bedtime because he decided it would be better to be naughty instead. Uh no.

Man, all the apologies in the world and demands? Didn't get the huggy back. Who knew?

He's going to need to eat before going to school - new school doesn't do breakfasts, only lunch and snacks. Breakfast this AM? Let's see how long I can drag this out. Um, nope. That didn't work either.

I see a kid going hungry a few times in the near future until he figures it out. He surely did in foster care, but one can hope this will resolve. Trying to remember me at this age, I'm pretty sure some additional 'aids' were employed, including spankings and worse. (I know I spent a lot of time alone at the table after everyone else had left - sit me in front of cold, steamed spinach? I still can't eat that stuff.)

We got in, signed in and introduced - and kid essentially shut down. In the morning, this class draws and reads books. Old school? Toy play - and often more aggressive play than I was happy with. That's going to take some getting used to. (No, you will not get to make guns out of Legos and chase your friends around the room.) I talked him into drawing Daddy a picture, said my goodbyes - updated the teacher on yesterday's escapades and left for work. Felt like I just thrown him to very polite, orderly lions. They have awesome fish, though.

Got in earlier, even stopped at a better Starbucks - all good things. I just feel for him, though. And hate how breakfast didn't come together. Work in progress - guess I'm going to have to choose my battles with more care. (And not let Daddy decide that food that is a toy is what's for breakfast.)

Not a fun job today. Or an adventure.