part 10

I post links to these stories on my Facebook page. One of my friends left me a note that said, "Don't stop like you always do. Just keep writing." While I admit that I do want to keep you interested, it is not the only reason I stop. I usually write in the morning and when my 2 year old Girlie wakes up, I have to wrap things up so she doesn't destroy the house and eat 20 popsicles while I am not paying attention.

This staffing story is a good one because, I believe, the events at that meeting are what lead to older boy making better choices. He would say otherwise, but I will explain that later.

Let's have a little fun and call the Primary "Puke". I know it's juvenile, but this guy caused me and my family a great deal of stress and it is my story afterall. Puke it is.

Puke was a young guy who liked to let everyone know about his Bachelor's Degree. He was a know it all and a whiner. No one in the whole world worked as hard as Puke did. No one else worked with kids who treated him so terribly. But the thing I despised most about Puke was his idea that he had power over me, my husband and our kid.

I can not stand it when people choose to use power to get their way. It is a sign of weakness, in my opinion. If something is right, people should be able to be convinced to willingly participate in it. When people only do things because they have to, it probably isn't the right thing to do. Just my .02.

Anyway, Puke stomped around enough to get a special staffing. Social worker was coming from 3 hours away. The school was coming. And Puke's objective was to get the team to agree that it was in Older Kid's best interest to have no contact with our family for 30 days. What scared me the most was that the social worker seemed to be open to the idea. I had a plan to ask for a new psych eval for older boy so the team would know how to proceed based on facts and medical opinion, rather than Puke's personal feelings. I asked my husband to be at the staffing also. Generally, he doesn't come to staffings and meetings having to do with kids because, frankly, there are too many of them and someone has to work. But, when I ask him to, he takes off work and shows up. I only ask him when I think it is really important. This was really important.

The night before the staffing, we got a phone call from Puke. His sister had a baby and he needed to reschedule our staffing.

Did I go off??

OMG!

Puke replied, "I have a right to have a life too!"

"Are you kidding me? Do you expect me to care about your life? You had a tantrum and managed to get a special staffing and the school is coming and the social worker is coming from three hours away! And you are proposing that this famiy have no contact with our kid for 30 days and you expect me to care about your life?! I will be at the group home at 10 am for the staffing and you better be there too! When we are done, then you can have a life!"

Whine. Whine. Whine and complain. Puke graciously agreed to go on with the meeting, but we had to limit it to one hour because blah blah blah he had a right to a personal day off......

Puke's lack of work ethic, sense of entitlement, and continuous whining would have been funny to me except that for some bizarre reason, he seemed to be winning.

My husband and I got to the group home at 9:45 because that was when Puke promised our son would be there and we wanted a chance to talk to him before the meeting. We wanted to let him know that no matter what happened, we supported him and wanted him back at home. Of course, our kid was not there. Puke went to get him from school after we arrived. He planned this so he could be the last person to speak to our kid before the staffing. I really, really hated Puke for that.

While Puke was out picking up our kid from school, the rest of us assembled in the lower level family room. My husband, the social worker, and I sat on the ratty old sofa, when our son arrived he sat on a sofa by himself that was off to the side. Puke and one of his co workers pulled up chairs across the sofa from us.Puke started the meeting by asking me, "How are you doing? How is your anxiety level?"

You want me to say that I jumped off the sofa and choked him, don't you? I thought about it, but replied that I was just fine, thank you.

Puke discussed his 30 day idea. I forced my way into the conversation to say that we really should be making these decisions based on medical opinion and an evaluation should be scheduled right away. Puke pressed on and asked our son how he felt about not having contact with the family for 30 days. Kid replied that he wanted to see his brother but he didn't care so much about not seeing my husband and me. Puke asked me, "How do you feel abou that?"

I wanted to scream at Puke that he was messing with our kid and his future and that I was afraid he was winning. I wanted to scream that I was not ok because I was losing this kid! But, instead I calmly stated that I was not bothered by older son's comment because I know what is in his heart. I know that he wants to be part of our family and I know that he has been influenced by other people (Puke) to make the comments in the first place.

Puke and Social Worker were talking. I don't remember what they were saying. You know that feeling in your throat when you are going to cry? You know how you try and try to stop it but you just can't? Tears started to fall out of my eyes and onto my notebook. I focused very hard on a doodle I was drawing on the paper. No one noticed. They just kept having their meeting as if I was not even there. I could not stop crying. I wanted to. In business it is never ok to cry. Crying is a sign of weakness. It means you are emotional and you do not have the ability to make good decisions. That was what I was taught. God knows I already felt that I had no credibility, influence or even respect in this group. The last thing I wanted to do was cry and come across as the hysterical mother who could not keep it together for an hour long meeting!

But, there I was. I could not stop. Pretty soon, I was crying with noise! My husband held my hand and everyone else in the room kept having their meeting as if I was not losing it. And then, something happened. Something that had never happened before. I was crying with nosie and my older son, suddenly, just dove from the sofa he was sitting on and he landed right on me and my husband. He was crying too. And my husband said, "I really love you, Kid." and the kid said, "I really love you guys too." I looked at the social worker and she was looking straight ahead and blinking fast so she wouldn't cry.

And then, somehow, the meeting was over. I mean, 15 seconds later, we were walking out the door. Puke asked if we wanted to take our kid to lunch and bring him back to school. We said we would. No one ever mentioned Puke's 30 day idea again.

We took our kid to Buffalo Wild Wings for lunch. I remember my husband telling our son, "Look, Kid, I will not waiver in my commitment to you. No matter what your name is or where you live. Advocate Mom and I will dog you for the rest of your life."That was the day that our oldest son started coming around.

All the books talked about breaking a kid to get him to come around. But, it was as if our kid had to break us. Reactive Attachment Disorder is about maintaining control. We gave our son control of the relationship he was going to have with us. He wanted a family on his terms. We had to agree to that. It was the only way to not lose him.

Here's something that will make you smile. Shortly after that meeting, for reasons that were never shared with me, Puke was fired.Puke was fired and my son will tell you that when Puke got fired, he started making better choices.

I learned that day that the biggest risks in life bring the greatest rewards. I put my faith in my older son that day and I thought I was going to lose, but our family won. My kid won. He could have gone either way that day. But he went out on a limb and did the uncomfortable thing. Thank God.

Yesterday, I took older kid to enroll in college. It is hard not to stand next to the kid and not feel so proud to know him. He is so tough. He is a true survivor. And I am very sure of his good heart.