Do Any of Us Realize How Hard Parenting Can Be for Some?

I didn't know my first real post would be about this.  I had so many other ideas of what I wanted to write about.  But here it is.  Real life.  Hitting me like a sledgehammer in the gut.  

The phone rang early this morning before I awoke.  It was the Private Residential Treatment Facility (PRTF) where two of my children are currently being treated. I've never received a call that early from there.  In the fog of waking up, I knew it wasn't good news.

I heard the man talking before I actually registered what he said.  And he realized that he woke me up, so he kindly talked a little longer about from where he was calling and that he was so sorry to disturb me.  About my children?  You're not disturbing me at all.

He arrived this morning and my daughter showed him her wrists.  She had made red marks on both with a comb sometime during the night.  



I subscribe to what I have self-termed as "Reality Parenting".  I don't mince words. I say it like it is.  I intentionally like to think that I'm not enabling my children.  And the children have a father who lives with us, my husband, who I disagree with at times about that topic.  

My first thought was and remained for a while that this was merely an attention seeking tactic on my daughter's part.  And I still subscribe to this belief.  Her therapist at the facility emailed me Friday about an attention seeking behavior she engaged in earlier this week.  That's my girl!  I know her like no one else does.

As the day wore on, I began to contact those people who needed to know about this latest situation of hers.  And that's when it hit me.  And when it hit me, the tears started flowing.

I do know her better than anyone else on this planet.  I've done everything I know to do for her.  And there is nothing I can do for her but to sit back and allow the experts to work through this with her.

That causes my heart to ache.

I'm a fixer.  Could you tell that from my logo?  Could you tell that from bio on the side that I wrote when I was feeling super confident?  I fix things. So far in my life, I've been pretty good at it - for the most part.  

And here I am, with one of the most important people in my life, who needs to be "fixed," and there is little I can do but sit back and pray that she fixes herself.  With the help of the facility of course.  She's not out there alone with no supervision or treatment.  But as far as my influence, I've done my part as a parent, and this is where we are.  

How does this relate to public education?  That's probably your question.  Well, she's been a child with special needs attending a public school since she started school.  She attends one now through the facility.  She will attend one when she gets out, and she can attend until she turns 21.  Let me figure that up.   The last year she will be eligible to attend public school will be the 2018-2019 school year. She has four more years beyond this one.  

Wait.  I may have it wrong.  She will turn 21 before the 2018-2019 school year.  Can she go that year?  I'm the specialist, and I don't even know.  That might be an issue to work on beginning NOW.

So, as an educator, what do we do for parents like me?  Parents with children with mental illness.  Children who pose difficulty for teachers like me?  Teachers who don't have all the answers any more than the parents do?  

I can tell you what we DON'T do.  We don't suspend them.  We don't expel them.  We keep them in school, and as the experts and as the people who DON'T HAVE TO TAKE THEM HOME WITH US, we do everything we can to assist them in being successful.  We bring in counselors.  We support the parents.  We don't BLAME the parents.  

We are teachers.  And every child deserves an education. 

I cut and pasted my Facebook post about this here.  My vulnerabilities.  I didn't think you'd see them this early.  Here they are. 

I haven't talked a lot recently about the placement of two of my children in a long term treatment facility - it's a hard topic, and it just got more difficult. I got a call this morning from the facility about my daughter. I was asleep when the call came in and was foggy. I recall them telling me what she did and the man saying that they "take things like this very seriously". I do, too. Oh, how my heart hurts. She is where she needs to be, and I know that. She is safer there than she is at home. And I cannot control a 17 year olds thoughts or actions. Her therapist's suggestion a couple weeks ago and as late as yesterday was to give her some room. She's angry with us because we told her a couple weeks ago that we will no longer take the younger children to visit with her because it was too upsetting to them. She considers it a punishment to her, but they were having too many issues following the visits with her. As a mother, and especially as the mother I am, I want to swoop in and fix the whole situation. But I can't. And for me, THAT is the hardest realization and the hardest thing to accept -- that the best I can do and have done is not enough for her. Some don't believe this, but I honestly believed when we got her at age 2 that we could overcome the damage she experienced prior to coming to us. Please keep us and her in your prayers, your thoughts - whatever you believe. Thank you. And please know that my honesty with you about living with someone you love who has mental illness is not to exploit or expose her, but to hopefully help someone else who is out there experiencing the same thing. Someone did that for me, and it's the only reason I can be this open.