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When all hell breaks loose


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So you start a blog and you have all these super great post topics that you are working on, including this super fun one showing you how to vacation with special needs kids, and BAM!!!! Your world starts spinning out of control.

You would think I would be used to it by now. And in some ways I am. I for sure handle things better and move on more quickly then I used to.... So thats what I am going to talk about. But first things first..

So we have been cruising along, things have been going pretty smoothly and I have found myself pretty complacent. Then little man starts having some struggles at school. ( He is in a excellent special needs program, with a wonderful team ) His team and I communicate daily and work together so his school and home life all tie in together smoothly. I think, "Well its close to the end of the year, so its normal to ramp up some behaviors " and go about life. Then my newly 18 year old is going to Los Angeles for a concert, I have to be in Southern California the same week for work, and hubby gets invited to a music industry event there. So I set up little man to be taken care of by 4 older siblings. FOUR to take care of 1 eleven year old who's in school most the day. Sounds easy enough right? WRONG... OH MY WRONG...


Daily texts from teacher are not good, but we were prepared since I would be gone all week. She understands, I understand, We up his school rewards, I text him all day and call every morning and night to remind him that I love him and that I am coming home, and talk about how many more days. ( Attachment issues are heartbreaking ) I come home.. All should be well. SHOULD BE...


I get home kind of late, I wake him up and kiss him hello, and go to bed. He gets up and goes through a bag I left on the counter and eats a ENTIRE bag of sugar free candy... If you know anything about sugar free candy you know that normally this is BAD. There is a natural consequence to this typically. So I go to the school and pull him out since I don't want him to poop his pants or anything. I forgot his has the stomach of a goat and so he is fine lol. But we come home so I can help him clean his room... After a week of me being gone, and him not handling it well, his hoarding is out of control...


As we are sorting things, the other kids start noticing stuff... I keep hearing " WAIT ! thats mine!" So I then I spend the next 2 hours going through everything one by one to reclaim things that do not belong to him and figure out where it goes. I then feel prompted to go up to the school and go through his locker....


I go into the office and let them know why I am there. She asks if I can wait for an escort. His teacher and the vice principal I work with are not there, so she calls someone I do not know... We walk to his locker and I feel like I should mention he has FASD and Im not some crazy mom, nor is he a " bad kid ". She starts telling me about herself and how her husband has FASD, and shares some personal stories that fill my Momma heart that is hurting. She also forces me to accept some things that I didn't want to about my precious son, and the damage his bio mom has caused to his brain. This was a "God moment". I needed to meet her...


So we go back home with some more " treasures", and I go take a break in my room to cry, and process some things.


A couple of days later our family therapist comes over. I love her. She has been with us for 5 years, and is part of the family. We talk for a long time, and I work through processing some stuff and we make a plan to get little man some extra help over the summer. She asks about our child who is no longer lives in our home, and I process more of that. I am feeling really good! AND HERES WHERE IT ALL FALLS APART...


She leaves and I go upstairs. I pull out my laptop to check my email and do some work... And there in my email is a message from my daughters new Mom... It is official... She is legally her new Mom... and that is NOT in any way a bad thing. They can provide a home where she is the only child, and everyone can be safe, and she can continue to heal from her birth and early trauma. They love her fiercely, and are absolutely amazing people. I will still have contact, and she even included a beautiful family picture from their adoption day... It stings... A LOT... I am so happy for them. I am so happy for the beautiful child I got to raise for 9 years... Despite the horrific events that we dealt with, she is an amazing soul that deserves happiness and an amazing life. I am torn between relief that she is in a family that is safe, and loving, and the hurt that it is not mine. Im struggling....


Night comes and I am looking forward to the break from my thoughts that sleep will bring.

I lay down and close my eyes... I smell smoke. I jump out of bed and run downstairs... Little man in up, in the dark, in the dining room. I ask whats burning?! Was someone cooking something?! WAIT! WHY ARE YOU UP?! IN THE DARK?! He is being weird, I know something is up. I could care less at this moment and my main concern is what was burning? Is is totally out, or is it smoldering somewhere? He wont answer...


Hubby, and big kids are all on the main floor now searching, begging for answers... He wont answer... Early Childhood trauma from abuse has him totally shut down... He also has a major fear of fire from being burned by a meth pipe before we got him... He still bears that scar...


We still have no idea what actually happened, but it involved a candle, washcloth, papers, and his favorite blanket. The damage was minimal because we have laminate flooring. Carpet would have been a different story..


I am triggered... BADLY... I start to shut down physically and mentally... I cant breath, I'm dizzy, I'm crying. I want to get in my car and disappear. My thought process is SCARY... Hubby asks me to please take my rescue meds... I give in easily... I sleep... For hours.. then the next day. I lay in bed and ask why me? Why us? So many whys.... Answers I know that will not come in this lifetime... I am angry and I am sad..


I can hear my kids come in to see if I am awake. To ask if they can get me anything... I decide that my kids will not have to continue to see me like this. I call the therapist. I cry... She listens... I reach out to hubby.. ( NOT a easy thing ) I am honest with what I need right now. He is learning to listen... I make a deal with myself... I am going to lay here and be sad and angry until a set time, then I am going to get up, and spend time with the people that need me...


You see.. its okay to be sad, or angry, or both. Its okay to say " I cant do anything right now but listen to sad James Taylor songs and cry" or eat this Big Mac, or whatever it is that you need to do to wrap yourself in your misery... But it is not okay to unpack all your bags and live in that space... So when the crap hits the fan and you are drowning, take that time for yourself. Reach out to someone you feel you can trust, and be HONEST with them. Accept the help.. Process it, then go back to your life. Because no matter how much awful there is, I know there is so much good if you look closely....