Looking Back, One Year Past

If you've read of the rest of this blog then you know I alluded to a patch of The Bad Luck. Some of that included trying to find some help for my young son who was having some significant issues with anxiety and mood disorder. He's better now. Thank God for Prozac. In fact, he's so much better that I was looking back at my journal entries and had to actually think about when it was this bad.

So Damn Tired
Our day started at 5:30 this morning. He woke up and began his morning ritual of crying and whining. Moooommmyyy, Mommy, I WANT you. We can't decide whether he can't remember we took the gate down so he can get up on his own or whether he's just trying to get someone to come into his room. In either case we try to ignore it in hopes that he'll stop and go back to sleep or just get up on his own. He doesn't stop so J. gets up to remind him he needs to get up by himself. We're both so tired of going to bed angry and waking up angry.


J. does a great job of being calm when he's in there but he whipped out of bed so angry that I wasn't sure that's what would happen. J. says the boy was up for about an hour and half during the night with the whole "I want you" bit. I wouldn't know because I took Ativan and was out like a light. He went in three times and the boy still didn't settle down until I finally got up and gave him a drink of milk. Then he slept through the night. Well, at least until 5:30 this morning.


I guess yesterday's nap on the couch was a bad idea. It's such a toss up. He's tired which exacerbates the horribleness during the day so when he falls asleep in the car like that am I supposed to wake him up? Or should I take advantage of the little quiet I can snatch?


The really sad thing is how excited I am to be able to do the dishes in peace. I am starting to enjoy the feeling of having my hands immersed in the warm dishwater. It's soothing and lately I will take any soothing I can get.


What do you do with a kid who doesn't respond to discipline? Who doesn't care about losing privileges and things and cares even less about earning them? A kid who shouts, screams, throws things and tries to hurt people? Spanking doesn't work both in practice and in principle. What am I going to do, hit him to prove that hitting people is wrong?


He doesn't stay in time out. No! I won't. I'm not going to stop. I'm not going to stay in my room. I am going to watch TV. He doesn't listen to logic. I don't want to talk about this. I'm done talking. I'm not listening to you.


I've read all the books. I'm trained in this, for god's sake, not to mention I've successfully managed to raise another child into double digits. I wake up with bruises on me, bruises which are from sharp little elbows, rock hard little knees and pummeling little fists. He's not even five yet. What happens when he's eight or twelve?


We keep thinking he'll outgrow it. And he does. For awhile. Everything is always for awhile. Even when he's doing well it's all about him; why is he doing so well? Is it going to last? Have we finally found the right medicine? I can't believe he's doing so well, so poorly, that he's so angry, that he doesn't understand that your mother is a person to revere and respect...


I'm tired of think about it, tired of strategizing, tired of worrying about and predicting the future. I'm so damn tired of it always being about him.