The Ripple Effect

I did a post a long while back about how it was like loosing my dearest friend to his PTSD from the Iraq War.  I can honestly say even after a year and 4 months it isn’t any easier.  Sure my life had to pick up and I had to start living again.  It still feels like walking through quick sand on most days.  However the one thing I wasn’t prepared for was the ripple of effect all this would have on my children.

See my kids didn’t say much in the beginning.  I thought they had been sheltered enough from all this that it wouldn’t have the same effect on them as it did me.  Well I was soooo wrong.  Here lately they have really been talking about their Uncle Jimmy.  Sometimes it is just funny memories they had with him, like when he use to tickle me even though he knew how much I hated it.  Then one day it will be full waterworks.  My daughter was 11 when he died, I always knew that he would be in her memories.  My son had literally just turned 6 years old two days before he passed away.  I wondered if he would really remember Jimmy at all.

Like all kids it seems to kinda come out of the blue.  One day he asked if we could go to Uncle Jimmy’s house.  We explained that Uncle Jimmy’s house was being lived in by someone else now so we couldn’t go there anymore.  He got upset and said “that is just disrespectful for someone to live in his Uncle Jimmy’s house”.  Now remember he is only 7 now.  He is also Autistic and see’s things very black and white.  Now he is talking about him a lot.  He misses his Uncle Jimmy’s dog, his hugs, and spending time with him.  This was their real life hero.  This was just not something I truly expected.  I try to reassure them everyday they speak about him that he is still with them and just in a different way.  My daughter gets that as she is older but my son doesn’t understand that concept.  He is to literal for the whole concept of him being a spiritual being now that stays with him but he can’t see him around him.  This has hit me like a ton of bricks.  I don’t really know how to console him.

This brings to a new phase of grieving… I feel I am no longer grieving my loss but grieving their loss of their hero.  I openly talk about my loss with lots of people because so many do not even realize that we lose 22 veterans and 1 active duty service man/woman a day to suicide.  That is hard for me to swallow sometimes times when I tell people and they are surprised.

PTSD is a real across the board in all trauma.  Whether it be living through a horrific life/death situation, child abuse, rape, car accidents, serving in a war or now we add school shootings.  What people don’t understand is PTSD doesn’t simply go away.  We only learn to cope and even coping becomes unbearable.   These people don’t want to die but when coping becomes to hard it seems that is the only choice in their eyes.  They are not cowards, they are tired.  The fight has become unbearable for them.  The weight of the world has crushed in around them.

Biggest thing I find frustrating is that people get frustrated with them and abandon them.  I know from helping my friend it isn’t an easy task to handle.  However why do we expect them to hang on if their life lines give up.  I also know you can’t will anyone to live either.  Man if anyone prayed I did for God to give him the will to live.  To place the image of my kids in his mind when he was breaking, for him to get the urge to call me when he seemed hopeless.  In the end nothing worked.

What I am more upset about is that the wait for a veteran to get into a therapist can be MONTHS! Why? The gave everything they had of themselves but when we bring them home we only give back a quarter of what they put in with services offered to them through the VA.  Then we have high-ranking people in all the branches making them feel like they are bringing shame to their “brothers and sisters” by asking for help.  They are showing weakness by reaching out for help for their PTSD.  That makes me even more angry.  Then when they can’t wait for months for a therapist and commit THEMSELVES they are treated like criminals.  I have seen that first hand in the VA in Memphis TN.  I will never forget how helpless I felt the day they jerked me out of his arms when all he wanted was me.  He called me and asked that I meet him at the VA.  When I got there he had a death grip on me, not because he wanted to hurt me.  He had me because I could ground him.  I could clear the fog at times when he needed it the most.  Yet the VA thought their degrees trumped my ability to keep him calm.  My ability to help him think clearly.  In my opinion the VA has a lot to learn from those of us on the front lines with these brave men and women.  The ones that are there day in and day out.  But now I gotta figure out what to do next. How do I help this problem.  Also how do I navigate my children’s grief.  All of this leaves me with this crazy swirling thoughts of  “what can I do”.  Again here is the ripple effect of loosing someone to suicide.  That helpless feeling of “what’s next”.

I know this was long but it is truly what has been going round and round in my head. Sometimes I write letters to him and that helps quite them down for the time being.  I just wish there would be answer to the unknown but I know that will never come.

Living the #22aDay

Truthfully I don’t know where to even begin with this blog.  So I guess I will try to give you the summary.

In Junior High I met this Big Giant Ginger! He was a couple grades ahead of me so he was in high school.  However I enjoyed the bantering on our Choir Trips.  Yes we were Choir Geeks, which meant we were Musical Loving Geeks as adults.  Our friendship would take breaks as he would serve in Operation Iraqi Freedom and I would move around with the new  husbands job.  However we always found our way back to each other.

Only this time he wasn’t the same as he had always been during the first part of our friendship.  He was distant, closed off, and severely suicidal.  Since I had never known that part of him I couldn’t understand what possibly would drive him this far.  Then one night after he had been released from one of his many suicide attempts he would call me.  He said things were bad in the situation he was in and he needed a place to stay until he got things figured out.

He came to live with me and my family for 2 weeks until he figured out his next step.  During this time we would have a storm that would blow out the power.  So as I sat there about 8 months pregnant, with him and my husband, conversation started to really flow.  He would begin to explain to me that he suffered from PTSD and TBI.  For those that don’t know what that is it is “Post Traumatic Stress Disorder” and “Traumatic Brain Injury”.  He didn’t give me the details of the source for this but it was understood by me,as his friend, I wouldn’t ask as I was sure it was war related.  I always knew he would open up when he was ready.

He would soon move about 2 hours away.  Live in a shelter that rented rooms to Veterans.  I would have his “nephew” and we would have a few great months.  Then his depression, PTSD and anxiety would get the best of him.  He always tried to shut me out when this would happen.  Deleting me from social media and ignoring my calls (or text).  Sometimes others would inform me of something that had happen but that he was fine.  The one thing I never did was give up though.  I messaged him through facebook with pics of my son (whom he adored) and gave him updates on him.  Soon he would send me a message that said “Dang it you win, I miss you!”.  Away we would go just where we left off.

Somewhere along this ride though there was a shift.  He started to reach out when these suicidal thoughts crept in allowing me to be there for him.  He started sharing with me about Fallujah.  He wouldn’t do it in words but by sharing links that told about the Battle in Fallujah.  I would read them, thank him for the information and trusting me to understand what he is going through with more information.  One day I would get a call early one morning and he simply said “I need you here NOW”.  This coming from a man who asked nothing of me ever I knew it was urgent.  I lived 2 hours away so I jumped up told the husband where I would be going and I would be back as soon as I could.  About 30 mins away I would get a text that said “your to late meet me at the VA”.  Strangely I had a sense of relief because if he was texting me he was ALIVE! I would arrive at the VA as he was coming out of the Trauma Center.  He would walk up to me and grab my jacket with a death grip demanding I stay with him.  I would until we got to the door and they said I couldn’t go any further to which he panicked.  He grabbed my jacket saying he was leaving & for me to come with him.  We were surrounded by nurses, security and his Doctor.  All talking at once, I can see the tension in his jaw.  His wrist still gaping open.  I knew he needed medical attention but I knew getting it from this place in this situation was gonna be hard.  I got turned around facing him one hand on either side of his face calmly asking him to look and listen to only me.  He kept repeating “I won’t go unless you go with me” and the roar from the others only grew louder.  I finally turned around and with a whip of my tongue told them all to “SHUT UP and let me calm him down”.  To which the Dr snapped back “and WHO ARE YOU!”.  I said in a stern motherly voice “THE ONLY PERSON HE IS GONNA LISTEN TO RIGHT NOW SO BACK OFF AND SHUT UP!”.  They agreed to let me go with him to stitch up his wrist.  GREAT RIGHT? nope, they jerked me out of his arms just as we walked back there. (before i get some snarky comment about how it was for my safety I get it, but i also know he was no threat to me, them maybe but me NOPE!).  I would gather up his dog, take him home with me until he could be released.  But that seemed to be the break through moment that he knew he could trust me.  We had more moments, what seemed like good years, until it wasn’t  anymore.

Now I sit here tonight crying because Oct 21, 2016 I got the call the rocked my soul to the core.  My best friend of 20 years was gone.  He had taken his life and this time there was no coming back.  He was truly gone.  I can point fingers and say it was this or that.  However in the end it was the war that took his life.  He never really left that battle field.  I always supported the awareness of the #22aDay but living it is so much harder.  The sad fact is this is an epidemic rate of loss of life of our men and women who serve just to come home trapped in the war zone still.  I could literally see the stress on his face sometimes as he sat there clinching his teeth.  I am not just sad I lost him but I am angry we are failing people just like him.  Right now as I type this we are loosing another soldier who made it home safely but can’t escape their nightmares, flash backs, and extreme heightened sense of anxiety.  Why are we as American’s turning such a blind eye to this problem?  I tell you why! We don’t like to face the UGLY that war is because we want to live with our freedoms at their expense.  Trust me I am not saying we should never go to war, that there aren’t amazing soldiers fighting now and some signing that paper work as you are reading this, or saying that should change.  What should change though is how they are treated when they come home.  The VA is a joke, I have seen him waits months for something as simple as an MRI that my doctor can order the next day for me.  We need to demand they come home to a living salary, a place to live, and the same access to healthcare as our elected officials.  That they be seen by a doctor in a timely manner and we need to stop this non-sense of burying our heads in the sand on PTSD in our military.  We need to allow them to see therapist outside the VA without months of red tape (seen this too helping him).  It is time we do right by the ones we can still help! Thus not allowing my friend and all of the other who have become the #22aDay statistic to have died in vain.

Not a second, not a minute, not an hour, not a day, not a month and soon not a year will go by that I don’t miss my best friend.  Some might say I should not even be telling this story, but I know he would approve.  He would never want anyone to be failed the way he was failed if his story could prevent that from happening.  A mutual friend told me once that the way we make change is by not shying away from how he died and why he died.  In the early days of my grieving process that stuck with me.  I consider her extremely wise.  So I hope that some of her wisdom sticks with you as you read this story of our friendship.  I hope you will seek change for our soldiers in anyway you have to offer.  Just don’t wait to long because with each passing day we loose 22 more to suicide from their battle with PTSD.  Another family will feel our grief of loosing a son/daughter, brother/sister, father/mother, best friend or spouse.  Many have asked “How can I help a person suffering like this?”.  My answer is NEVER GIVE UP! Always pick up the phone (his number was the only number that rang through on my phone after 10pm), advocate fiercely for them, and never grow tired of loving them through this bc they don’t want to be the person they are right now.  Also make a plan that you both agree on when they are level headed.  He knew if I feared for his safety at any time I had no fears of calling for help.  He might be pissed off but he would be pissed off and alive! Just remember the person they were is still in there but trying to force them to be that person will only push them away.  Accept them for who they are right then and love them for that person.  Don’t get hung up on their pre-war person, embrace them where they are at now.  This is only a blimp in the life I lead with him but I hope it helps someone feel less alone.  Hopefully someone who is trying to support a soldier will find strength in this story! For now RIP my dear sweet Giant Ginger. 

I am Sorry

My sweet loving boy, I am sorry!   I am sorry I didn’t listen to my gut when it came to vaccination.  I am sorry I push you so hard out of your comfort zone.  I am sorry I forget that not everyone is gonna understand you, nor do they even want to try.  I am sorry you can’t have friends because they think you’re weird.    I am sorry I can’t make this all better for you.

I am sorry people stare at you when you melted down on the subway. I am sorry I got embarrassed and let their judgement cause me to over react.  I am sorry family may never get to know the true miracle that you are to us all.. I am sorry people get annoyed when you try to share your passion with them (including me).

I am the most sorry that you are wonderfully you and we are choosing to overlook the amazing qualities you have to offer.  Your: Funny,  Honest, Kind, Loving, Giving and Amazing in Knowledge.  We fail to see these qualities because of the hard times that come, instead of focusing on the amazing moments you give us daily.

Sadly I don’t know if this will ever change but I hope you see it in your life time.  You are  precious and my miracle.  I promise I will do anything to change this in my lifetime.  So that maybe you will have a relatively normal life.  So just know I love you and you extremely important to me and your father!

The Mythical Closure

So I have done pretty good since the accident June 11th.   Actually got out and did some photo’s of my daughter and my best friends daughter.  So I thought I was finding closure.

Little did I know that closure was a mythical creature similar to a unicorn.  I have been struggling with Nightmares, Flashback and the anger for not being able to make sense of all this that I seen that day.  I want to move forward but the anxiety takes over my body like an evil angry spirit trying to pull me to the dark side.

I always knew that soldiers struggled with Fireworks on the 4th of July and other holidays.  However this was not something I was prepared to struggle with this year.  My nieghbors were shooting off the big fireworks for their family.  This some how got twisted in my brain to sounding like the accident I witnessed.  It took lots of deep breathing, good meds, and going to bed.  Yet I still work up sick from my nerves being wrecked.

I am trying to not let this effect my kids, my daughter has 3 fashion shows in the fall and I need to be back to normal so that i can take her to these.  1 is in NY and 1 is in LA, last thing I need on her first flight is to get anxious.. ugh.. I have flown it doesn’t bother me to fly but Fireworks have never bothered me either… So we slowly on the road to recovery but it is VERY slow!  But I do wish people would stop telling me it gets better with time.  I know it gets better with time in some weird sense of coping.  But in the end it never get really better it still haunts you but you just have to learn to cope or you will find yourself in a straight jacket laughing hysterically in a padded room.  So here is to time and finding that coping closure. 

Wedding Bells Are Silent

Image is Property of Mommie Done Flipped

Today as I shopped Hobby Lobby to find my supplies for a photo shoot when I was forced to realized something that I had put out of my head.  You were getting married to the love of your life, the man of your dreams, and your one true match sent By God.  That was a super real moment for me.

In that moment as I looked at things I had moments of thoughts like this “Did she pick this up and look at it for her wedding?” or “Would she be in here right now with her daughter excitedly picking stuff out for her big day!”

It left me feeling so insanely sad, so guilty that I am with my love, so guilty that I get to have moments with my son and daughter still.   You deserved all this too.  So to you I say, Sherry I am sorry those wedding bells are now silent, but I can only hope those Trumpets playing when you entered those Pearly Gates were more profound than any wedding bell would ever have been.  I like to think you and Mike head those Trumpets together.  That while on earth we feel you never got to have your journey with Mike, but indeed you are having that journey with him on a much larger level.

I did not know you and Mike, but standing in that line for over an hour to pay my respects I seen the friends your kept, the people you have touched, and they were amazing people.  So that tells me that you were too.

While now I grieve for you and Mike, even though I didn’t know you, I also hope people know you guys are not far from each other in heaven.

Today I am breathing!

 

So in my previous Blog I addressed the accident I witnessed, we all know i am struggling… But something that has kept me holding it together was a song by Ingrid Michealson “Keep Breathing”.  So yesterday I went and had that put on my arm as i felt it is the song of my life.   The stuff I have lived through I truly feel I spend more time saying “Just BREATHE” than anything else. So now I have a tattoo on the inside of my arm that says “Just Keep Breathing” with a Dandilion running through it that looks like someone just took a breath and blew some of it away.  But not all was blown away so another breathe is needed getting to the idea of “Just Keep Breathing”.   I mean seriously this is just a few:

Sexually Abused myself

Alcoholics in home growing up

Drugs being used by parents growing up

Loveless 1st marriage

Step-daughter (my now adopted daughter)

Son diagnosed with Autism (which is a constant battle for acceptance of him)

Witnessing the this Accident in Selmer

So I did something for me that was souly for me… I know people will have opinions of tattoo’s but that is their problem.  I love seeing it and it grounds me.. In the end ONLY I can know what is gonna help me get to my new normal!  As you can tell there was thought behind this tattoo.. So I think i will be happy with it for the rest of my life saggy skin and all lol

 

Ocean of Emotions

**notice some things in this blog may be graphic and hard to read so please be mindful and aware when reading it!**

 

On June 3rd I had a spectacular beginning to my week.  My daughter started all the fun activities of the weekend for the Fashion Show Event she would be walking in. There we would both make new friends and end it with a Designer Walk to remember! She looked fabulous! I don’t think you could have pulled me out of the clouds that week… My Mommy Pride was BEAMING! However with many great things they all come to end and we had to return home.  We returned to a mound of vacation laundry and work looming over parents head.

Saturday June 11th, 2016 would come early with a Car Show and Craft Show I would be working.  My best friend and I have been doing craft shows for over a year now and it was a means to help our family since we were stay at home moms.  Every dollar counts when it comes to your kids extra curricular right? We set up and wait for the customers.  It was a short event only 10-3 that day.  We liked those because people always come ready to buy knowing it is the only day we are there, unlike the flea markets where people think they will come back the next day and never make it.

All day the smell of BBQ had been in the air, the flow of people was steady, we were selling ok for the location.  When suddenly out of no where you are hear something that shouldn’t be there.  Sounds like a car on the gas pedal.  People say people where shouting “WATCH OUT, WATCH OUT”, but I never heard it.  I just looked over just in time to see this man hit 2 people in the cross walk and they lost their lives.  One of the victims went in the air right in front of my booth, that feeling of her looking at me still haunts me to this day.  That feeling of I should have caught her.  Had I caught her would her would she have lost her life that day?

After that the day is a blur, my mind is looping the horrible accident.  The driver I do know was a 91 year old man.  I feel in my heart there had to be no bad intent it was just a freak accident.  He had his wife in the car, both were sent to a local hospital.  I would go on to attend the funeral of the two that died that also happen to be engaged.  The line was long but it was worth the wait to see the family and hug people whom where strangers yet I suddenly had such a deep feeling of connection with at the time.

I would finally reach the front of the line and explain who I was to them.  Surprisingly they were more worried about me being ok than anything else.  The family so kind, suffering such great loss only made me more angry.  Question was who do you get angry at when it was a completely accident.  Who do you shake your fist at and scream for justice to be done when there simply may have been no justice to be had.  We are still waiting on more information about the driver, but hearing he is 91 makes me think it could have been ANYTHING!

This week I have been paralyzed with emotions, missed appointments because I don’t know what day I am in most of the time.  I don’t know how to process this feeling of numbness and grief.  Some say time heals all wounds but being a sexual abuse survivor I know that is just something people say when they have nothing else to say to you.  I know I have to learn to cope with this feeling of grief, learn how to push it aside to move forward, eventually I will think of it without tears.  But right now I have to allow myself to feel my feelings.  Hard thing is knowing which feeling is gonna come out today.  Some days I want to sleep it away, sometimes I am so dang angry I am impossible to be around, some days I just want to sob, someday I am numb and then there are those whopper days when I am all those at once.   Seeing someone loose their life is something I hope most of you will never see, but if you do I hope you know that all your emotions are normal.  Grieving is NORMAL even if you didn’t know them.

I am in counseling, my Dr gave me something to relax me and help me sleep.  Sleep is the key, I handle my emotions better when I sleep that is if I don’t dream because sometimes it feels so real and i can’t wake up.. Those are the dreams that suck monkey balls!  The accident happen what feels like so close to my booth that sometimes I find myself thanking God he didn’t turn the wheel a little left.  Then it is quickly followed by unimaginable guilt for thinking that way.  People tell me all the time that I am not wishing for these two wonderful people to be killed instead of me and it’s ok to be thankful.  That to me just seems incredibly selfish. Survivors guilt maybe? I don’t know what the hell to call it accept unexplained pain.

But just know that tragedy effects us all in different ways and no two people are alike so be respectful of the person’s process… I think that is my single biggest annoyance right now! Everyone’s idea of how I should handle it only makes me crazy.  Remember you have to DEAL with the tragedy your way but you must find a way to deal that is at your speed and your comfort zone.  pushing to hard can make you worse but not pushing at all can also make it worse… so keep trying things til you find what works, set boundaries and don’t be afraid to tell people to back off.. But also know these people are well intended, trying to help and are  only working with the tools they have in their tool box. Which let’s face it not many have the “Getting Over a Horrific Tragedy” book in their tool boxes.  So cut them some slack too..

As for me, i am gonna just keep trying until i figure this out.. maybe writing on here about my feelings will be my outlet, kinda feels good to put it down and get it out of my mind.

Kiss those loved ones and always say you love them as tomorrow isn’t promised as i was so brutally reminded on June 11th.

Miracle From Heaven

Last night my sister and I had a long over due sister date.  We decided the perfect movie to see would be Miracles From Heaven.  Amazingly great movie and if you haven’t seen it then please GO!

But the basis of the movie is about their daughter who gets suddenly sick with rare incurable digestive disorder things suddenly got REAL for me. This movie suddenly became not only about their miracle but about MY miracle too.

When my son was about 2 years old he won’t up one morning had breakfast and asked for juice.  He was playing and seemed fine.  He suddenly began to whine, cling to me, and it grew to inconsolable crying.  His fever spiked and he vomited EVERYWHERE!  I rushed him to see the pediatrician and  they didn’t have any answers for me.  All they could say he is really sick and since it was a Friday they would give me the choice of putting him in the hospital or taking him home.  Later that evening his pediatrician would come in and tell us that his bowels were essentially asleep.  They weren’t processing food or fluids.  They would monitor him for several days and finally he started to perk up and want food after a few days.  His bowels started moving and talking again.  There was no answers from the doctors as to why this happens or why they restarted.  For us it was just a miracle.   I didn’t know there was a disorder that was essentially fatal.  We were never told anything to that extent.  I just knew that our baby boy was so sick and I was so scared!

So last night all i could think about was how close I came to being the Ms. Beam in that story.  How grateful I was that God spared me from that path… But part of the movie is that we rarely see the miracles that God is performing in our life everyday… I surely didn’t see that miracle.  But today I am grateful for that miracle!

 

Ask yourself “What miracle have I missed?”

I am seeing Light!

Shew, I know I have been gone for a while… but honestly I don’t know that you would have wanted to hear from me.  Fighting for my son’s rights at the school and then having my daughters PTSD belittled just about did me in emotionally.

See I battle everyday with that demon named Depression.  I think this has been the darkest moment in my life.  That moment when things run through your mind that would scare the average person.  That moment when things that ordinarily would scare even you start to sound rational.  I am just thankful the rational side of my brain hung in there and I was open with my doctors.  I am thankful for solution oriented doctors on my side.

I am a survivor of Child Sexual Abuse, yeah bet that seems so far from Autism.  However something that my husband and I spoke about today got me to thinking about all the Moms who are surviving Child Sexual Abuse and trying to parent.  See when I don’t get a break from being the SUPER MOM I am truly not, Depressions seems to find a way to creep in and I get overwhelmed so easily.

While I like to say “I AM A SURVIVOR”, I really mean “I am a victim who is working on Survivor Status!”.  So many people are suffering depression and raising special needs children.  The problem is with surviving comes things we can’t control like:

• PTSD
• Anxiety/Panic Attacks
• Depression
• Hypervigilance
• Over protectiveness
• Low Self-Esteem
• Need to People Please
• Insomnia

Being a mom can truly only make the problem worse.  How, you might ask? Well when you sleep very few hours already and then your child decides right as you go to sleep that they want to be awake.  Well that presents serious fatigue problem.  Which we already know can worsen Depression. Oh then throw in a child with Special Need’s and that only add gasoline to the fire.  Let’s face it if you are a parent of a special needs child the word overprotective doesn’t even cover it really.  That fear of your child not being accepted is already raised but when your already guarded well it is worse.  Mostly because you don’t give your kids the chance to be accepted out of the fear of rejection.  So rational is that we are protecting them but in the end we really are trying to protect them from how we felt as a children.   I know for a fact my anxiety is worse because I am always thinking and rethinking how he is gonna do here or there.  If we go somewhere new we are definitely gonna have one mommy meltdown from anxiety.   The upside is then everyone is on their best behavior. (haha)

Well when all these collide at the same time I find myself in deep Depression mode.  I hate that too because I am not an effective mother when I go through this time. I find myself feeling isolated and alone.  Feeling like I don’t have anyone to help me win this battle.  Then I find myself feeling even worse because I am in my head to much.  I feel swallowed up by the big whale of life.

I guess really I wanted to write this to say, “Mama’s You Are Not Alone, even on your darkest most difficult day, you are NOT alone!”.  If you know someone who suffers depression please extend your hand to help.  Even if your so sick of hearing us “whine” that you want to say “to hell with it all”.  Please know that your hand might be the only one that gets extended, therefore you might be the life or death decision for someone.  Also understand that just because someone is in a dark place doesn’t mean they are gonna harm themselves.  Sometimes we just need some time, a good friend, and Netflix Marathons.  🙂

 

 

Teachers Can Bully Too

I know I haven’t been blogging much.  My life seems to have been going nuts.

I am still seething over all that has happen.. I am trying not but it is getting ridiculous.  I am learning more and more how teachers (and I guess I should say some teachers bc there are great teachers out there too) are using tactics like humiliation to get what they want out of a child.  My son for instance when he is overwhelmed, anxious or scared does this whine that I will admit is annoying.  However that is how he copes and until he learns a new behavior he is gonna do that behavior… Well when he does this whine he pulls his hands up to his mouth.  Well in an IEP meeting (in front of her principal and the special ed director) his teacher admitted to telling him he looked like a cat when he does this.. Well I know to some this may seem harmless… But here is the thing about my son, He is LITERAL I mean so literal I can’t even call him my sweet baby boy.  He gets so upset when someone calls him anything other than his name.  So I know that this caused him distress which is a distress he doesn’t deserve… When we could be modeling the behavior and role playing that behavior with him to get him to learn the desired behavior.. ugh..  What is more frustrating is when I asked the teacher not to do this, she took the first chance she got to humiliate me in the meeting. which means she sees nothing wrong with humiliation as a tactic if it gets her the desired result.  can I bang my head against a wall… Humiliating our children is cowardly, it is the cowards way of getting what you want out of our children.  There are many positive ways of working with our children to teach them how to display the appropriate behavior.  However that is gonna require you to do the work and repeat until he learns the behavior.  I don’t know how many times I have told you that the more you sing song something or give him a visual the fast he learns.  Oh wait I am just the dummy mommy.

Look these children deserve better than this, we don’t send them to school to be bullied by the teacher, they will get enough of that by the children.  The parents you teachers see as neurotic  are actually parents that love their children so much it hurts.  These are the parents you should be embracing not trying to alienate.  These are the parents who will help you do whatever you need when you need it.  But these are also the parents who will stand up for their babies no matter the cost or the circumstances..

I am just so tired of being talked down too like I haven’t been living the hell of teaching my son how to communicate effectively and act in appropriate manners when he needs, wants or desires something.  Like I haven’t been in the trenches with my son for the last 5 years.  Look teachers have degrees but I have the Ph. D in my son and what works for him.  You will not make me feel inferior.  You will not make me feel like I am beneath you.  I am his mother and it would behoove you to listen to me.  I can help you and you can help me.  It could be a team effort, Instead you have turned it into a pissing contest.  Well I refuse to piss with you.  I will keep fighting for my son until I feel he has what he needs and then I will sit back and let you piss away in the wind.  I don’t gives a rats butt about you but I do care about my son.

So while you may think that humiliating me was your big win, think again.  You just showed me your hand and now I know what you are truly like.  I am saddened by this because I had hopes for my sons school year.  Dreams of it being this amazing team between each other..  That’s ok though. I see what it is like, however I won’t let you jade me against the other teachers that might come into his life.  This will not ruin that potential relationship.  Just know that your tactics are cowardly and crude.  You shouldn’t be doing this to our special needs kids.  These are the most amazing kids and you have the privilege of teaching them.   If you don’t think of it like that then you are in the wrong job.

Now this is just one mothers opinion.  please no hate mail about how teachers are wonderful.. I have been a teacher and like in every job you have ur bad apples… I think I found one.  But like I said next year will be different for my son bc I believe we will have a great teacher!