PYHO: So Blessed

I’m a worrier, just like my mother before me. I worry about Jellybean’s future. I worry about bullies—mostly my child becoming one.

 I worry about so much that I really have no control over. I do my best to teach them life skills, how to respect others, how to give and show love on a regular basis. 

How to treat others the way they want to be treated.

I worry about Scooby too. He’s three, still, and becoming this awesome, sweet, and VERY independent little person. I worry about his speech issues. I worry that his huge heart will get broken because he’s just a typical three old boy with this really big zest for life, and it often gets him in trouble. I worry that he will follow in his sister’s footsteps and have ADHD too.

So, I watch. I love. I teach. I discipline. I snuggle. I play. 

I pay extra close attention to tongue placement when we talk. I give him moments of independence that are appropriate for him. He gets to make some decisions on where we go, what he wears.

He gets hyper in the evening. He is incredibly active, almost constantly in motion from the moment his eyes open, til the moment he is tucked into bed at night. He has his quiet moments where he will sit and play with his cars for 30 minutes here and there. 

His imaginative play has picked up and I’m finding it to be quite entertaining. His ability to play pretend, something his sister never did, has my heart doing little leaps and cheers. 

Watching him grow, something I wasn’t able to do in the same way with his sister, has helped me understand just how early Jellybean’s symptoms began emerging. 

It lets me rejoice in his accomplishments because they are so very unique to me, and so very normal for him.

Empathy is a huge struggle for Jellybean. She is so very literal that she has a difficult time seeing things from another’s perspective, even when it is explained to her. She lacks empathy, sadly. She has never shed a tear for anyone but herself in all her eleven years. Not when her beloved Grandma Nora died. Not when her Poppy passed away on Christmas. Not when her puppy died. Not to a sappy commercial. 

She has never cried to a movie, a commercial, a book, or because of something happy. 

Yesterday, for the very first time, at a moment I least expected it, I caught Scooby sniffing and wiping his eyes as he sat at the edge of my bed watching Where the Wild Things Are on HBO. It was the end of the movie and the wild things were wailing because Max was leaving.

AND MY SON WAS CRYING.

For the first time. 

For someone else.

Wordless Wednesday: T.R.O.U.B.L.E.

GC better get that shotgun ready......

For more Wednesday Word fun:

Don't forget to stop by and say Hi over at mommylebron's today where I post EVERY Wednesday. Today's discussion is "There's a pill for that..."

And? I also have a guest post at The Red Dress Club today. Come see what I have to say about why I write {and publish} the dark side of life.

Wordless Wednesday: It's Party Time

They came,. they saw,  they conquered.
Jellybean's 11th was a peaceful, rockin, pizza making, Yogi Bear watching success.

For more Wordless/Wordful Wednesday, check out:

Bipolar Tuesday: It's MY World & I'll Pout If I Want To

Today's topic is Grandiosity. It is another symptom my daughter shares with bipolar children. I'm going to explain it here, to give a small glimpse into our daily life.

Jellybean has this super inflated sense of ego. It makes her think she is the boss.

EVERYWHERE.

This sense of entitlement and Queen Bee attitude can be very aggravating for me as a parent. I imagine that as difficult as it is for me to deal with, it must be even worse for other adults, not to mention her friends.

It even happens at school sometimes. She has been reminded on more than one occasion that she is not the teacher. At home, she has to be reminded that she is not an adult. She is not the parent, and needs to be reminded often of her role in this family. She is a child, my daughter, and that is the role I expect her to play.

She has certain responsibilities around the house to help me, but she is not the one in control. She just tends to think she is. Her mind isn't able to define the line between bossing and helping or bossing and reminding, etc.She is unable to define the line between her being a child and my being an adult. Everyone is equal in her mind.

Example: "Scooby, you cannot go past the mailbox. Period. If you do, you will have to go inside." This could be taken as a sisterly reminder, except the tone of voice she uses with it. She is not merely reminding, she is bossing, using her "I'm the parent" voice with him.

"You will..." is a frequent start to her sentences, even when speaking to an adult.

Mommylebron speaks of The Princess Syndrome, which gives a great definition to the grandiose way of thinking, but honestly, I tend to think Tyrant defines Jellybean better. The free dictionary defines a tyrant as

• 3. An oppressive, harsh, arbitrary person.

Arbitrary is defined as: 1. founded on or subject to personal whims, prejudices, etc.; capricious; or 1. Determined by chance, whim, or impulse, and not by necessity, reason, or principle 2. Based on or subject to individual judgment or preference

Dictionary.com defines oppressive as causing discomfort by being excessive, intense, elaborate, etc.


So what does all this mean? 

It means that as sweet and loving as I know my daughter can be, and often is, she has this grandiose sense of self that makes her seem oppressive, a tone of voice and manner of speaking which can be harsh, and she can hold very opinionated biases which are based on her extreme view of self. 

In her world, there is only black and white. The shades of grey that make life flow smoothly from one extreme to the other are not apparent and obvious to her. 


Most of us live within the gray. That's the way we like it. This is part of the reason why she has trouble keeping friends once she makes them. No one wants to be bossed around, made to feel inferior, or any of the other feelings that come from being around a tyrannical person. 

How do I help her?


We do a lot of role playing here. 

Oftentimes putting her in the other persons shoes, or even my stepping in her shoes for a moment, is opening her eyes to how the world sees her and her attitude. It also giver her a glimpse into how her friends feel when they are treated like that. 

She has come along way, especially in maintaining friendships. 

I'm always open to new ideas; we try many different things. Some are subtle, and some are not. 

We frequently go through our stuff and donate the things we don't need anymore for others who are less fortunate. There are things that I want to involve her in to teach her that it is not all about self but she isn't quite old enough yet. So, I do little things, and a lot of role play to try to teach her.


It is believed that my (step)dad is bipolar. I see a lot of the same behaviors in my daughter that I see in my dad. She is now starting to notice these behaviors as well, so I'm using it to show her how we feel, to teach her how to live within the gray, even if it's just tiptoeing along the edges.


Do you have a story of grandiosity to share? Why not link up with Mommylebron at Rage Against the Washing Machine so we can learn from you too!

 

Bipolar Tuesday: No Sunlight Required

It's time for another session of Bipolar Tuesday with Mommylebron at Rage Against the Washing Machine.

The topic this week is separation anxiety. I have a bit of a twist to share regarding Jellybean.

She has no problem leaving me. She is probably on the opposite end in being TOO ready to walk off. I remember being so frustrated when she was just a bit older than Scooby because she would always wander off in the store. She still does it today.

It still frustrates me to no end.

What frustrates me more though is her need to be right there whenever I have another adult present. She sticks to me better than my own shadow. When we did the walk through with the landlord of this new house, she had to be right there on my heels through the entire process. She never does this any other time, except when I'm in the bathroom. It's like having a small pet and tripping over it constantly the way she shadows me. She interrupts. She inserts her 2 cents where it is not needed.

It is highly annoying.

I can ask her to go do something else. GC can tell her to leave us alone. Within 5 minutes though, she is right back there, like the sunshine popping out from the clouds.

*Sigh*

Someday, right?

Note: I realize that JB has not been dx'd as bipolar. She has a mood disorder which shares many of the same symptoms as EOBD does. It is very helpful to me as a parent of a child with co-morbid conditions to have a support group of parents dealing with the same or similar issues as I am.

PINT: Random

Shall we begin? I'm a bit rusty. Bear with me... :D

Bipolar Tuesday (With MommyLebron)

Ever wondered exactly what goes on in The Drama Mama household? Today I give you the raw unedited peek into my mood swing filled day. Come on in, take off your shoes at the door please, grab yourself a drink and relax on my couch. It's gonna be a long Sunday...

GC wakes me up late on Sunday morning stating "The kids are playing outside on the front porch."
"Did you give Jellybean permission to take Scooby outside?" I ask him, as he lays in the bed beside me.
"No." He says.
"Did she ask your permission to go outside?"
"No."
GC rolls out of bed, and Scooby is tapping me to give me hugs and morning snuggles.
"I go outside!!" he says, placing his ice cold hands on my very warm face.
I banish Jellybean to her room with instructions to write 10 reasons why she should not take her brother outside without permission. An attitude and a door slam later, she produces her list. It includes such gems as:

• Because I am stupid (this is her new thing & it drives me crazy!!)
• Someone could take us.
• He could run down the hill and get hurt.
• Because I am not an adult. (She has an inflated ego that requires reminders that she is still a child and I am the parent).
• Because he could hurt Zeus (the dog)

Less than 2 hours later, she is sent to her room yet again. This time for punching her brother in the stomach after he tried to choke her, which was in response to her attitude when she threw his Fisher Price School Bus in from the back porch and hit him in the leg only moments before. She was told to produce 15 reasons why she is not to retaliate against her brother. This is what she came up with:

• Because he is my brother
• Because I am not an adult
• Because I am only his sister
• Because I will get my butt whooped
• Because I don't need to hit him
• Because I am dumb
• Because I am not nice
• Because I am aggressive
• Because I can't control myself
• Because it hurts him when I hit him
• Because I can't stop once I start
• Because I do it for no reason
• Because I do it regularly and he is going to get me back (lol, He does!)
• Because he is only 3
• Because I will get in trouble

What's the significance of this, you ask?

Do you realize only a year ago, making a list like this would have been IMPOSSIBLE for Jellybean?

It shows an ability to sympathize. It shows that her mind is clear enough to be able to think things through. It shows that she is learning personal responsibility. It also shows me that she is aware of her actions and sometimes she does them purposefully.

She has started directing her anger to her brother now, which is not a good thing at all.

He understands her emotions, not necessarily her words, and he is super sensitive to start with. If I raise my voice to him because he is not listening, he is instantly remorseful and starts crying. (did I mention he is super sensitive?). I think her attitude hurts him more than her words do.

"I hate you." She said to him. Her voice was dripping with venom. His face dipped down. His bottom lip came out.

His sister is his hero. He lives for the weekends when she is home. He lives for the moment she walks in the door from school.

Poor Scooby.

This is gonna be a LONG summer.

If you notice over there in my right sidebar, you see a pretty pink badge from My Child's Bipolar Now What? This is a group started by Amanda Lebron of the blog, Rage Against the Washing Machine, to offer a place for support, to ask questions, and just know you are not suffering alone. She dedicates Tuesdays to her daughter's dx. This week I am joining in. Feel free to share your stories. 

Becoming a Mother-Part 1

The date is April 7, 2000. I am due at the hospital for my c-section at 3 pm. I am, of course, running late. I was anxiously expecting my "Kiara Lakota" or "Cheyenna Scout" (she was named neither, being christened in my drugged out state to the last name that had been discussed with my coach on the way to the hospital per the nurse stating that she so looked like herself) to arrive, especially since it was 7 days past her due date, but she was stubbornly facing the wrong direction, so the doctor scheduled the c-section after I denied the opportunity to try to have her turned.

I didn't know it, but I was already equipped with that "mommy instinct". As she was being born, they discovered she had the umbilical cord wrapped around her throat (this is probably why she was breech in the first place). I realized at that moment (well, when I came to, that is. The whole birthing process drugs had me out for the count on the operation table), the importance of this thing called "Mom Instinct", and was so very relieved that I possessed it.

This tiny (or not so tiny. She is my biggest baby, weighing 8 lbs. 7 ozs. and 20 1/4" long)  bundle that was brought to me held my whole life in her little fingers. Before she existed, I was headed down a long, going nowhere path. Realizing that I had this precious gift coming, I knew I had to change my life. I didn't have the self-worth I needed to do it for myself, but she gave me a whole new reason to life. She enabled me to escape the prison I had built for myself, and the strength to conquer the world.

She has taught me patience. She has taught me sacrifice. She has taught me the meaning of love. Through her I have learned just how deep my love can go. I have learned exactly what I am made of, both the good parts and not so good parts. I have learned what a snotty kid I was, too. She is still teaching me. We are learning together what works and doesn't work with her ADHD. We are learning to figure out her mood swings and how to deal with them, one swing at a time.

But most of all, she has made me a better person. She has helped mold me into the woman I am today. Who knew this tiny little bundle could do so much?

This post is part of the Don't Hate Me Because I'm Beautiful Photo Contest for Unbelievably Cute Kids at parenting By dummies.

Oh No She Didn't Post It Style

I have found a super scary awesome new Tuesday meme called "Oh No S/He didn't Tuesday" sponsored by Kristi over at Live and Love Out Loud. I am still in love with Supah's Post its, so, here goes....

And that was after 2 WHOLE days of making invitations for her!!

Now, what are you waiting for? You know you have some Oh No He Didn't moments to complain about. Link up and share, and enjoy the others. You know you wanna!!