Project 365

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

...and in the end

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

Never give up

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

"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

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!!