Holding Onto Clouds

2011-10-19T11:47:00.000-07:00

These are my muskateers; my best friends I've shared the heartaches and joys of motherhood with for the last 15 years. We have few secrets. Our hearts are open. I love these ladies like sisters. When I am with them, I feel complete.

children

2011-06-21T19:29:00.000-07:00

They love me. It is surprising, but they do. One in Sacramento, one in Stockton, one in Holland, and one at home. I miss the younger them, but am enjoying the adults they have become.

Angel Children

2011-04-17T18:46:00.000-07:00

I let my 5 oldest children go quietly today. Melissa, David, Marie, Keith, and little Craig. It was time to let them spread their wings and fly. To do the things I raised them to do. They watched over me for over 25, maybe 30 years. Now I let my angel children go.

Café au lait skin Dark curly hair Sweet smiles Gentle hands

Giggling laughter Late night talking Loving expressions

“When can we go?”

Why couldn’t they stay? Will they miss me? What went wrong? Why couldn’t I hold them?

Sorrow Joy Love Release

Angel Babies Angel Babies Angel Babies Angel Babies

2011-04-10T19:39:00.000-07:00

My son, now 20, disowned me yesterday because I refuse to call him a woman. He is a transvestite who feels he is a woman in every way. He says I make him feel like he is doing something wrong when I call him by his male name. I told him I could accept him being gay but I would not accept his belief he was a woman. He periodically tells us he is pregnate. I am sorry he feels he has to disown us. I told him that, when one chooses a lifestyle contrary to society, that one has to accept some people won't accept it. He can't force me to say he is a girl. I can't force him to be a man. I thought we were doing fine, that we understood each other. I understand it hurts him too much. I went through that when I was married to my first husband who was African American. My father threatened to kill me and my husband. I lived a double life. It almost killed me. I hurt that my son feels that. I always looked forward to him turning 18 - I thought all the troubles and pain would stop then. It's almost worse than when he was growing up. To make matters worse (from my viewpoint) his birthmother accepts him as a woman. Well, she didn't raise him - he was taken from her at age 3 for abuse and neglect. She didn't go through all the hell, but she gets the benefits of him now. He told me she was his real mom because she accepts him as he is. I am tired of him playing me against her. A real mom is the one who loves you and takes care of you and is there for you. A birthmom gives you life. Both are crucial. I am babbling now so I will stop.

thoughts

2010-07-03T13:00:00.000-07:00

I've had to choose twice now. The first time broke my heart; the second shattered my soul. I am having a horrendous time trying to go on; trying to keep putting that one foot in front of the other. Desperation for relief from the emotional pain conquer my thoughts. I ponder all my religious beliefs, moral feelings, people I'd hurt. More choices to consider. For once, I want the right one for me.

Seven years ago, we sat in a courtroom of our broken mental health system, swearing to tell the truth, refusing to bring our then 12 year old adopted bipolar son home from his latest psychiatric hospital committment. My husband and I took on child abandonment charges, gave up our parental rights/custody and accepted a lien on our home to try to get help for this mentally ill child. It was a living death for us. But we had three other children at home, endangered by this son's mental illness. My heart broke. Literally. I had a mild heart attack several months later. The heart patched back together, but was never whole again.

Seven days ago, this scene was relived. We have been raising our nephew for the last three years, since he was five years old, as his parents were incapable to do so. Dad has terminal cancer and Mom was in prision. We expected the anger, the depression, the acting out our nephew would do. As he grew older, though, it became worse. In the last year, he has raged and become more destructive. In the mist of it all, our youngest adopted daughter tried to committe suicide, after six months previously being busted for drugs at school, and was placed in an adolescent psych hospital for 7 days where she was diagnosed bipolar. Between the two children, our home had become a war zone. An absolute living hell.

Seven days ago, our nephew and his friend had their first overnighter at our house. In the middle of the night, the messed with my camera (deleting ALL the Yosemite pictures we had taken 3 days previously), messed with the television (which had to have the cable company repair), messed with my computer (I'm still fixing that). and downloaded games onto my husband's cellphone (I just convinced the phone company to delete the $67.00 worth he'd downloaded onto my phone while hiding with it in his room one evening.) Now, all that is forgivable and can be dealt with.

The boys set fires on our heirloom marble and maple wood coffee table. The nephew had gone through my purse (another no no) looking for batteries to replace in my camera they had been using and found a lighter I had confiscated from daughter, dropped in my purse, and forgotten about months before. They lit dollar bills ("because those aren't worth anything"), computer paper, and napkins. The marble on the table is scorched. One edge of the wooden ledge is burned. NO REMORSE FROM NEPHEW. "If you don't want me to do things, you should put them away or lock them up. It's not my fault. I was bored."

A few hours later, after the friend and his appalled with is son father left, after still no remorse or taking responsibility for anything he'd done, I (with nephew's father being there) called the police to see if they could talk to the child. Nephew was just a rude and defiant with the police as with us. When asked by the officer why he didn't think he needed to mind us or follow our rules, he responded "They have really stupid rules, so I make my own and follow them. It's not fair that I get in trouble for following my own rules." He then proceeded to tell the officer how much he hated our family and didn't want to live here. He was tired of being told what to do and could take care of himself. The officer was appalled with Nephew's tone, attitude, and behavior and told him so. Nephew rolled his eyes. Long story short - he is now in the local childrens' shelter until a foster home is found. (Sounds of shattering of my soul enter here.)

Daughter is thrilled that now she gets to be the only child. Husband said, "Well, we did have some good times with that young man." I get all that. I understand all that. Friends/Professionals say "You did the best you could. It is not your fault." I get all that. IT DOES NOT HELP.

God does give you more than you can handle and trials don't make you stronger. "Be care what you ask for" has more credibility. I wanted four children but I cannot stay pregnate due to my female birth defects. We were blessed with being able to adopt the four. Three are ADHD and two of those are diagnosed bipolar. ADOPTIONS LIED TO US. I am angry and hurt and scared and let-down and depressed. I can barely function, let alone think coherently through these emotions.

My belief in God keeps me here. I don't want to go to Hell. However, I wonder if Hell is here on earth; if I am already there. Lately, Dante's Inferno has been creeping into my thoughts. Feelings of travelling down through the levels of Hell. Lights at the other end of the tunnel, going the opposite direction from me. Broken hearted, shattered soul....not enough superglue to keep it together.

I. AM. SAD.

Loss

2010-06-27T21:04:00.000-07:00

Losing Andrew

Does it hurt any less
Because it is the second time or fourth or sixth?
Does the pain feel any different
When it is the second time or fourth or sixth?

How many heartbreaks
Until your heart irreparable breaks?
Is it the second time or fourth or sixth?

The hole gets deeper faster each time.
Slippery slide down.
Sometimes there are mogul like hills that pop-up
tormenting the mind with glimpses of light,
Chances of joy,
Feelings of competence.

The descent is long and hard.
Long
And
Hard.

Climbing back up is even more difficult,
Seemingly impossible.
And each time the heartbreaks,
the slide begins again
And the rock climb sharper
With less to hang on to.

Tenacity is imperative.
Faith is essential.
Self-talk, successes, remembrances helpful
Drama class comes in handy
“Doing great, doing fine.”
(slippery slide slippery slide)
　
How many heartbreaks
Until your heart irreparable breaks?
Is it the second time or fourth or sixth?
How many?
　
　
　

now and then

2009-07-13T23:44:00.001-07:00

1971 2009

My children's birthmom

2009-07-09T19:34:00.000-07:00

Twenty minutes ago I called my youngest 3 children's birthmom. My youngest son, age 18, was home on a four hour pass from the mental facility and we let them talk. She and I have been emailing for several months now, since the letter she sent me when she found us a few months back. Today is the first time we actually spoke. I always wanted to hate her. I can't. It is so different, hearing things from her perspective. She has the sweetest voice. I told her I wanted to hate her but that I couldn't. I thanked her for the lives and gift of my children. I blessed her and told her I loved her. We both cried.
When my son first got home tonight, his dad and I read a letter that his bmom had written to him this week. It was a beautiful letter. He got the biggest look of joy on his face. He wanted to talk with her. I found the number and dialed, then gave him the phone.
I pray this helps heal my son and his bmom. And us.
I wanted to throw up after the phone call because my son called her Mama, just like he calls me, and told her how much he loves her. He was 3 1/2 when he became our son. I tried to think of how to handle this. "You have two moms and we're not even gay!" I joked. My son laughed so hard! He is gay, and that just tickled him. I asked if he was okay, and he said yes. He said he doesn't feel so hurting.
Heavenly Father, please bless my son and heal him. Please give him strategies to deal with his mental illness of being bipolar so he can live on his own and have a good life. Bless us all, Lord. We are family.
Our son has the best sense of humor. We even make jokes about him being in the mental facility, about being "crazy," adoption, race. It probably sounds inappropriate to others, but sometimes he starts it, sometimes we do. Our family uses humor to get through hard things. We are also scarcastic - unfortunately, the kids get that from me and my husband.
So, tonight we fulfilled one of our son's dreams and made it through an adoptive parent's fear. It all turned out fine. God is good.

March and April 2009

2009-05-05T17:04:00.000-07:00

Hali and Julie March 2009

Robin and Coralee 1988?

Sarah and Andrew in SF

Paul, golfing the weeds away!

My brother, George, April 2009 at Angel's Cafe in SF

week of feb. 18th Project 365

2009-03-20T21:54:00.000-07:00

AT MICKIE GROVE ZOO, STOCKTON, CA

Project 365 Pictures last week of February 2009

2009-03-20T19:15:00.000-07:00

I have watched the homeless sleep next to these grates on cold, rainy nights. There is no cover from the rain.

It always amazes me the amount of time and money tourists spend waiting for and paying for the short cable car rides. It is an historical part of SF's history, but not the real SF at all!

My brother has cancer. These are just some of the meds he takes several times daily. Thousands of dollars worth of pills monthly. Praise God for insurance.

Two of my brothers and two nephews about five years ago. The brother in the middle has the cancer. We are now raising the youngest boy. Life changes in a minute.

This is an old, old newspaper page from the Contra Costa Times in Contra Costa County, CA. It contains my birth announcement. The coolest part is, the girl who has been my bestest friend since we were 13 (we are now 55) is on the same page, as is a guy I dated in High School. Fate!

scrapbook challenge

2009-03-20T19:06:00.000-07:00

Project 365

2009-02-20T22:33:00.000-08:00

I am doing the "Project 365" from Creating Keepsakes. I am taking pictures weekly, rather than daily, though to journal my year. Here are some pictures I took today at Mickie Grove Zoo and Park where my friend, Chauntae, and I took our kids:

The younger kids looking at animals

Buds on a tree

This one is the reflection of a tree in the pond:

Layouts, pictures ROUGH DRAFT

2009-02-20T22:09:00.000-08:00

...and in the end

2009-02-20T22:04:00.000-08:00

At 18,

coming of age in a group home,

is just not the same.

Blow-ups, blow-outs are met with restraints, police, and visits to mental hospitals.

Being held down

as the staff jams a calming injection into the arm.

Injections that make you slur words, shake, and sleep.

Even less freedom than before.

Choices are even more forced.

Free-will is non-existant.

No future.

No fun.

Holding Onto Clouds

2008-07-11T20:33:00.000-07:00

Never give up

2008-06-20T10:28:00.000-07:00

6-20-08
I have been following several threads and conversations from my support group of families going through the same situations we went through with Todd. It is heart-breaking. All are adoptive/foster/going through the process families. Common strings through-out are "How do we get help for our child." "It feels like the system is fighting us, rather than trying to help." "I feel so alone." Each step is hard-won, each a victory in itself. The most difficult of all this, I have found, is the feeling of helplessness as we watch our children flail through life day by day, unable to help or get help as they gradually destroy themselves. That sentence will probably anger some parents, especially those in the mist of the fight for their child. I admire and am even envious of all the parents who keep fighting and are able to keep an help their child in their home. For a long time, after we gave up our rights to our son - even now - I felt like we failed him. Like we abandoned him. Logically I know we did the right thing for him. He is a child who cannot live in family setting. He needs much more rigid structure for success. Even so, the mental illness has increased in its hold on our boy. We have not seen him for 2 years. We seldom talk with him on the phone. He and I do email periodically. I keep in close contact with Todd's social worker. We reinterate over and over our love for our son. I am reminded of a saying "desperate times need desperate measures." I want my book to give hope to other parents going through the seemingly futile process of getting help for their children. I want my readers to understand there are different kinds of help for our children and hopefully, help parents not feel like failures if the hope ends up a residential placement for their child. Selfishly, I am also trying to ease my own pain, my own feelings of failure and doubt. I want to know in my heart, logically and emotionally, that we did everything we could. And our story is not over. A scripture I love and keep in mind is

Pregnancy

2008-06-18T12:38:00.000-07:00

"Mom, I have to tell you something. I'm pregnate" strikes fear into any mom's heart when it is her teenager uttering the owrds. Imagine it coming from your son. And him truly believing it. The last six months, my son, you have told me this over and over. I cannot make you understand it is impossible. The doctors and psychiatrists cannot convince you, even with xrays. We love you so much. When I visit Uncle in SF, I see gays and transvestites on the streets, in the stores. I don't care if you are gay or if you cross-dress. But I cannot support your thinking you have a uterus.

Perfect Parenting

2008-06-18T12:22:00.000-07:00

My children would never tantrum. My children would never nag. I would never spank or yell. I was an awesome parent before I had children!!

Flashbacks

2008-06-18T11:14:00.000-07:00

It doesn't take much. A word. A look. A smell. At Relay for Life, some teenage boys did a short run, wearing formals and all made-up and hair styled. I fell apart. Crying, shaking. "Get out of here!" I screamed when they came towards our booth. Poor kids. It was a fund raising thing for them. When my nephew pulls tantrums like Todd used to - like nephew is doing today, right now - it is so difficult not to loose it. I lock myself in my room or my bathroom until I can react calmly. Post-traumatic stress disorder - PTSD - I think is what is happening to me. Horrific. My poor son. My poor self.

3/15/2003

2008-06-13T22:10:00.000-07:00

March 15, 2003 9:43 p.m.

Todd was accepted into a 5 day residential program yesterday, the one that wouldn't
accept him a few days before. Not sure what happened. They took him from
school. We were there. I don't want him to come home. This program is a
crisis place. Once he is released, they work with the family in home to try
to keep the child in the family. I don't want him to come home. I don't want
to talk with people. I don't want to go to work. I haven't worked since last
Tuesday. I have to go next week. I am the breadwinner. My husband had to
quit his job last July to stay home for Todd. I just want to curl up in
a corner. My other children don't want him home. They won't pray for him. We
are so traumatized. My husband cries. He never cries. Our car is in the
shop, We thankfully have a little truck but it only seats 3. We have 5 at
home right now. How do you get through this? How do I get to want him to
come back?

March 16, 2003 3:05 pm

We are just fallen apart. We are going to refuse to bring him
home. If they force us, we have two places - residential type places - that
said they'll take him but we have to pay for one ($1300 a month) or the
other will pay by insurance at 80%. We don't want him to come home at all.We
are a mess.Thank you for your support.

Oct. 16, 2004 8:15 pm

We gave up custody of our youngest son almost 2 years ago. We had
to accept charges of abandonment. We now have a lean on our house. My wages
have been attached. We pay child support. We have to go to court twice a
year. In the beginning it was monthly, then bi-monthly, and now, twice a year. Was it worth it? Yes, for the other kids in our home. They laugh,
play, bring friends home. We now have a normal home. We visit our son
periodically. It totally stresses me out. I had a mild heart attack last Dec
over all this. I take meds for panic attacks. But my husband and I no longer
fight. The other kids are safe. I try to remember that the needs of one
cannot supercede the many. The courts won't let us give up custody because
our son is considered unadoptable. It is hard. If you finalize the adoption in California, you will not be able to disrupt it, at least in California. When we adopted the boys, we had moved back to California. Washington adoptions told us if there was ever a problem, they'd help. Now they say because we don't live there, they won't - that it is up to California. California says it is Washington. All I know is we hurt - all of us.

November 1999

2008-06-13T21:47:00.000-07:00

11/1999

My husband and I have four adopted children, ages 12 to 5 years old. The youngest three have the same birthmom but different birthdads. These three are all ADHD. We had no idea about the two boys when they came home to us five years ago at ages 3 and 6. Adoptions told us they were the most normal, undamaged children they had ever seen. The younger boy has serious difficulties and it has been a rollercoaster trying to get help. We recently had a "full psycholigical evaluation" through the group we were sent to by the school district. The psych said Todd is only ADHD and it was all me trying to "find a liver when I don't need a liver transplant". He said RAD is a fad and a waste of time as are CAT scans and the like. Well, this only ADHD child caused me to be called from work 3 times last two weeks because of
serious bus problems. I have had to leave seven times since September. I am a
teacher and it is not easy to just leave work. We have to watch him
constantly because of his rudeness, tantruming, and manipulation. I followed
good advice given here by my support group to have an advocate with me to go to this psych for our son. They will not let anyone go in with us and also refuse to see
Todd unless they can see him alone. We do not feel comfortable with these
people so I am cancelling tomorrow's appointment. We have found a specialist
eighty miles away that we will see Dec. 20. We will have to pay 200.00 for
the visit. Up till now the school district has paid but they don't seem to
know what they are doing. We found a local support group. They are telling us
to get an out of home placement. We are trying to get respite. So far the
nearest is over 100 miles away. We cannot do that. I am not ready for my son
to be gone. I feel like there is more I can do. I don't want to hear get rid
of him but find ways to help him and the family. Am I being unrealistic? I
did not adopt my children to give them away. We prayed for these children.
Why would God give them to me to have me lose any of them? It is so hard.
What am I doing wrong? I read posts from my support group. I see articles written in
newspapers - they are so wonderful. What am I doing wrong that I can't help
my son?

Tue Nov 30, 1999 8:41 pm
We had a hard morning again. Yet Todd apologized on his own as he was
going to bed tonight. I am committed to my children. I have to find a way to help them grow up to be happy and good citizens.

Sun Dec 5, 1999 10:31

Todd, our 8 year old son, has to earn everything. it seems to be the only behavior
control we have for him. We had 3 perfect weeks while he earned halloween.
now he is earning his birthday party. That is iffey so far. At first we felt
really mean doing this, but it has cut down on the aggression and rudeness for
the rest of the family so it is worth it.

Clonidine...liquid vs. solid Dec. 7, 1999 9:55 pm
Our son was on Clonidine for about a year. We ended up, after failing with the pills and liquid, using Clonidine patches. They worked well. We put them on his back in areas where he could not reach them to pull them off.

12/18/99 : 9:49 p.m.

I'm interested in finding a way to work at home. (I need to net about $2,000 a month)I have 4 children, including one who desperetly needs me at home full-time. Todd is just finishing up a 5 day suspension from school and school bus.

9/20/00 9:39:21

When we adopted our boys, I was a special ed teacher of emotionally disturbed
children. Parents thanked me for the differences I made in their and their
children's lives. I had a DEGREE (I'd smugly say). Then my Todd came to me. I
felt (feel) like a failure that I could not make that difference with him.
Knowing/having experience made no difference. You just live it.It is a time of agony and hard decisions.

Beginning of the end

2008-06-12T18:35:00.000-07:00

Dear Son,

You've asked why you can't come home, why we don't call anymore. It all began with the first time you ...It will be easier if you just read my journal entries.
Mom

March 1, 2003 9:35 a.m.Thursday
About 4 p.m. our youngest son, age 12, called me on my cell phone at work and asked me to come home right away as he did not feel well. He'd been home all day with the flu. My husband, Norman, is a stay-at-home dad, but had run an errand. Norman had been gone about 15 minutes when Todd called me.

The school where I teach was over for the day, so I rushed the less-than two mile drive home to find Todd on his knees in his bedroom screaming "Please God don't take me today" over and over and yelling that he'd seen God who told him he was going to die. We rushed him to the hospital, thinking he'd freaked out for some reason. Half
way to the hospital he began yelling "I have to tell you the truth, I took a
bunch of pills." Turns out he got into his brother's Adderall and took 21
pills. He took other meds too but we can't tell exactly what or how much. We
were at the hospital from 4:30 p.m. to 2 a.m. They gave him charcoal drink
and ran blood and urine tests. We called the Elders (Mormon Missionaries) who came to the ER and helped us sing hymns and pray with Todd while the doctors worked to save is life. By 1 a.m. they knew he would live and had a psychiatrist from the local county hospital observe him. She finally let us bring him home per our request. We wanted to see our own psychiatrist and, mostly, didn't want to put him in county hospital where no one knew him. Todd hallucinated all night, crying, screaming laughing hysterically, but was safe and stable sandwiched in our bed between Norman and me as we waited horrified and sleepless, for morning to come. At 7:00 a.m. we were on the road, driving the 85 miles to his his pediactric psychiatrist. Dr. S said he could give Todd new meds and take him home to observe for a few days. We refused, knowing that we couldn't guarantee his safety
or even our other kids safety, in Todd's mental state. So now our son is in a psych hospital in Sacramento. We were informed Todd was paranoid and hysterical all last night in the hospital.

We feel we had made the right choice, not bringing him home. We're driving up to the psychiatric hospital today to see him. I'm feeling like Job from the Bible. I hope I can keep Job's attitude. I pray we all have a better week one way or another. I beg God that we can find help for Todd and keep all our family together.

March 6, 2003 7:32 p.m.

Our son came home from the psych hospital Wednesday afternoon. Had another hallicinatory episode that night at home for no chemical reason! Crisis center said it was an attention getting action. How fun for him. Everyone involved at this point feels residential treatment is necessary. There is an emergency IEP meeting at Todd's school in the morning. We've not sent him to school for a week now as we feel he is too unstable. But the psych hospital said he is doing great, so we are being forced now to send him to school tomorrow.

March 13, 2003 2:46 pm
I have been up since last night. Todd kept us up, crying, screaming, acting crazy. We figured he was just being a brat. This morning I realized my thyroid pills were gone from the locked box. He said he didn't have them. We had to be at an IEP for him in 15 minutes so we went. 2 hours later we were home, looking for the pills. Found the empty bottle stashed in the bathroom. Called his school. They had the police take him to the hospital. We were so mad! The nurses tried to baby him. We wouldn't let them. They thought we were mean. I don't care. He is not sucidal. He enjoys the high he is getting from our pills and the attention and babying everyone is giving him. We told the ER nurses that he couldn't come home. We even asked about giving up our parental rights. They said they'd call Child Protective Services and take all our children if we did. (We're in the middle of trying to finalize his sister's adoption. What would that do to it????) Todd was supposed to be admitted to a 3 - 5 day crisis stay. After 5 hours in the ER and then an hour at crisis we found out they wouldn't admit him because of his history of lighting fires (he played with matches 2 times 5 years ago!!) I started laughing when
they told me. It wasn't funny. I think I was hysterial. We brought him home. We
finally found out he got the pills cuz he had grabbed his dad's keys when they were left on the kitchen sink while dad ran outside to the mail box. Couldn't have been gone more than a minute. He opened the lockbox and stashed the pills until he could take them. We have watched him 24 hours a day since he came home from his last OD attempt last Wednesday! The one minute we slipped up this happened. We can't keep him safe.No one will listen. We're supposed to send him to school tomorrow. I have to transport him. Then I'm calling anyone I can think of. He can't stay here.I don't
want him here anymore. I don't want to find him dead sometime. I don't want to
keep exposing my other 3 kids to this. My husband cried today at the
hospital. He is so upset. Why can't we get help????????

May 13, 2008

2008-06-12T18:25:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, April 22, 2008 7:31:41 P.M.
Subject: from Mom - pictures of Bear, cats, and Mom.
Our Son,
We love you so much.
Love,
Mom and Dad

May 13, 2008
Dear Mom,
I got the pictures, I'm sorry I haven't responded sooner, but I haven't been checking my mail lately. I love you a lot. I miss you. I wish you would not be mad or sad at me and I wish you would call me. It's been hard not talking to you. I think you should really call me and we should start talking again. Cuz it's hurting both of us not talking again. Tell Elizabeth I love her. John and Marie too. Richard and give Bear lots of love for me. I really would like to hear from you before I turn 18 which is December. I'll be an adult. I hope we can patch things up and start being in contact again cuz I would love to see you and talk to you when I turn 18 because then I'll be able to legally talk to you if you want me to. I love you a lot. Please call me soon! XOXOX Your son, Todd.

Preface

2008-06-12T14:22:00.000-07:00

May 28, 1995 Last night I had a dream. In the dream I spoke with the foster-adopt mother of the David child - the child we first investigated when we first started being presented with children here in Washington. She was distraught, as she was in actuality when we first met her and discussed David. When we actually met with her, I could not understand how she could give up the child she had mothered for almost three years. I ahad asked her and she replied that her family was making her. I could not understand why she would stand for it. In my dream last night we discussed all this. She said, "Now you understand. He was taking all my love, all my energy, all my attention, all my patience, all my soul. I said my family was forcing me but in reality I can't do it any more. I cannot give him what he needs any more." I woke up distraught and yet calm. I know what needs to be done. I just don't know how to do it. I love Todd. He is my son. At the same time I hate what he is doing to me and my family. Last night my oldest child gave me a note asking if it would be better if she went away so she ouldn't be any more trouble. I am so tied up with Todd that poor Marie and John can't hardly breathe. We cannot go anywhere and enjoy it because Todd forces all the attention to be upon him. I cannot watch or interact with Marie or John without Todd causing a fit or a scene. Marie and John both resent him - even hate him for the calamity that surrounds him. What is this doing to my other children? What is it doing to him. We had to cancel our vacation our vacation to California in April because we could not trust Todd's behaviors. We took an overnight trip to Canada - he ruined it with his behaviors. He ruined John's birthday with tantrumming so that we oculd not go to the Science Center. We have not been able to do anything fo rmany weekends because lately Todd is overly aggressive with me. I am having to do restraints almost daily to protect myself and him from his aggression. How long is it before he attacks my other children or an outside child? The daycare is noticing an increase in oppositionalism, aggression, and screaming at others. I wanted to go to the Folklife Fair in Seattle this weekend. I don't dare. I don't want to have to restrain him there. I cannot hire babysitters - his behaviors scare them off. I want to be able to do things with my children. I want to do things with my husband. We want more children. Norman and I always saw ourselves with many children. We cannot have more children with Todd. He is taking all our time and energy. We left our church for him. We are becoming prisoners in our home with him. We have few visitors. I want to go to California in August. I am not willing to take Todd. We want to visit our friends and family, to travel around, to go to Disneyland. Can you see me restraining him at Disneyland? I can never just pick Todd up from Daycare any more. I have to hear all that he has done inappropriately again that day. He is physically hurting me. He verbally tells me what is going to happen and then he acts on it. Friday night it was "When I get off of time-out I am going to hurt you real bad." He went after me when he got off time-out. What about when he gets bigger and I cannot control him any longer? I am drained. I am trying as hard as I can. I can't spin my wheels any more. I love all three of my children. But I cannot take Todd's abuse towards me, my husband, and my other children any more. I remember the foster-adopt mother of the David-child saying it was like a slow death, trying to figure out what to do with her son. I feel that. What kind of a person am I to give my son up? I know he has been mine for only ten months but he is mine and I love him. What will happen to him? Who will love him? Who will care enough to make sure he is diagnosed and cared for? How could he not have been diagnosed and helped two years ago? I cannot verbalize these things. I can hardly bear to write them. It hurts so badly. I need my life back. I need my family's lives back. Some normality. I cannot do what Todd needs. Please help me to be strong enough to make right decisions. Help us.