It's a beautiful October day here in the Hudson Valley, and all is pretty much OK in My World.
The Universe is Abundant.
They say A Mother Can Only Be As Happy As Her Least Happy Child.
Since I don't believe in happiness as a permanent state, let's keep calling it Being OK in Our Worlds. Whatever that world is. Right now, all my kids are OK in Their Worlds.
It's an amazing thing.
Jack is 13. that's crazy His voice is changing. He's juggling an intense social life and intense academics. He's having to work at school for the first time in his life. He's got the good head on his shoulders that he was born with. I am grateful for that, cause I know it's not going to be this easy with the other two.
Jack. Are you smoking pot. Are you having sex?
I know he's not having sex cause his body isn't there yet, even if his head is.
Seriously, Jack. I trust you and all, but I remember what it's like to be 13. And I'm a girl. And this is Beacon. And you're hanging out with kids who are older than you.
MOM! I'M 13! I'm NOT HAVING SEX! jeez. And I'm not smoking pot. And I'm not drinking either. I've had lots of chances. It's not my thing.
hmmm.... i guess i feel better now.
I'm entirely aware the answers may be different in a couple years. That's OK. As long as we're still in a place where I can ask the questions and get the answers.
Ty started playing his cello again. He took a break after cello camp, and though it aggravated the competitive-live-thru-my-kids-soccer-mom in me, I didn't push it.
Playing the cello makes Ty's heart sing. It defines him. I'm not going to squash that joy for my own ego.
He's playing again and his playing makes us both happy.
Like I said, happiness is not a permanent state.
His 5th grade teacher is awesome. He really likes school.
He was being bullied and teased by one kid a few weeks ago to the point where he was having a stomach ache and bad dreams. This kid was getting physical with him. And he'd torment Ty in the cafeteria by loudly questioning his sexual orientation and not letting him sit at the table with the rest of the class.
oooh i wanted to take that little fucker's head off.
We talked through all the different options. He nixed all solutions that included involving his teacher. I guess due to embarrassment or repercussions or some other 10 year old boy thing.
Jack coached him on physically defending himself without escalating the situation.
We both reminded him that going to his teacher was the best option.
Ty went to school the next day, still not sure how he was going to handle things.
That afternoon, I got a text from him.
mom i stood up for myself. jalil won't bother me anymore. we're friends now.
oh honey, that's awesome. I'm so happy.
there was blood
he shoved me and i shoved him back. then he punched me in the stomach and i punched him in the nose. there was blood. now we're friends.
My sweet cello playing marshmallow punched that asshole bully in the nose.
Ty is OK in His World.
Mia seems Way Better in Her World than she's been in years.
Thanks to an awesome teacher and pharmaceuticals.
I'm medicating her.
There. I confessed. 3 Hail Marys. Or 300. Or something.
I just couldn't watch her suffer. And I don't trust anyone around here.
I've had 13 years of seeing kids' mental health be manhandled and botched, and in my professional opinion, all the local mental health providers treating the kids up here are dumb asses.
So I did it myself.
I was careful to be objective. And honest.
I looked at our family history. I listened to the one adult psychiatrist I know who has done so much for our family but doesn't do kids cause he has a lot of humility and acknowledges that "we" know NOTHING about little kids' brains. Period.
But I couldn't watch her have another crummy year. I couldn't bear the sobbing phone calls every evening I worked. Or the paralyzing anxiety and Mia Death Grips in front of the school every morning.
My heart was done handling her frustration mommy why is it so hard for me? why is it easier for everyone else? why do i act this way? I don't want to feel like this
So in the spring I started her on a baby dose of Prozac. Just to see.
Shit, I know what it did for me...
All I told her was it's the same thing I take. It makes me feel better. Maybe it will help you too.
10 days later, unsolicited, she said mommy, I'm not having bad dreams anymore.
no. fucking. way.
Within 2 weeks, the morning anxiety was gone. Deciding what to wear was not an insurmountable mountain. She left the house easily every morning with a wave and a have a good day honey.
This year, she has an awesome teacher. On the second day of school, she was so excited.
Mommy! I actually learned something today! We learned about continents. North America, South America, Australia...
She's finally challenged. She's motivated to do well.
She's also at times very easily distracted. And impulsive.
I can see the Attention Deficit in her eyes.
Seriously. I can.
Typical ADHD medications are not the thing for her. I suspect they might throw her into a manic psychosis.
I started her on an atypical ADHD med that doesn't work for most kids, but sometimes works for kids with ADD and anxiety. She wasn't so thrilled. I think maybe it just corroborated her feeling that there was something wrong with her.
I always remind her that both Daddy and I take medicine.
I'm not sure that brings her any comfort.
I didn't tell her why I was giving her another pill, just that it might help the way she feels.
A week later she said Mommy, don't forget to give me my medicine. I feel better with that new one.
Really honey? How do you feel better?
I can concentrate better in school.
NO. FUCKING. WAY.
She gets up and gets dressed every morning. She actually brushes her hair. She gets along way better with Ty. Her evening sobbing calls came to a screeching halt. Her handwriting is really neat all the time. She's able to read for 20 minutes straight.
thank god I didn't fuck her up
thank god she's OK in Her World.
The Universe is Abundant.