Workshop/Gift Shop

Each year when we do Daughter's Individual Plan, I stress the need for them to structure her time. I explain that Daughter doesn't do well with unstructured time. I explain that Daughter isn't able to structure her time. I tell them if there's nothing for her to do, they can give her a puzzle book and tell her to do a word search. They can ask her to sweep the floor, or read someone a book. I emphasize that she can't handle unstructured time.

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Yesterday Daughter didn't call me at all. She came home happy. She was having a good day. She had been busy all day, helping Super Supervisor do some baking. Today, she's been calling me. She's bored. I've been trying to give her things to do, but it's not working well. It's in her plan. I emphasize whenever I see them. They see that Daughter can't handle unstructured time. So why didn't they structure her time for her today? Because I'll have her out a couple of days, she only has 10 more days to be there. I'm grateful.

A First and More Drama

I've done a lot of funerals over the last 25 years, and so there aren't too many things that surprise me any more. Today, though, I had a first: the first time I was in a funeral procession on a busy interstate.

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Daughter is spinning more drama at the workshop. Sunday night she told me she'd gotten back together with an old boyfriend. This particular boyfriend was just put on community control and ordered into a sex offenders treatment program. When she told me, she was waiting for me to react. I just shrugged my shoulders. She was disappointed. I said, "We're moving in a month. I'm not providing transportation for you to go see him. He doesn't have transportation. It's not going to last, so I'm not going to worry." She was obviously disappointed.

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Yesterday she came home and told me he was pressuring her for sex and that "something" had happened on the bus. She backed down on her claim that he'd exposed himself to her when I suggested that he had scared her and she was trying to express how threatened she'd felt by what he'd said to her.

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I had a voice mail today from Case Manager. Daughter went in and reported the incident to her. Sigh. She is stressed about the move, I understand that. So she is flailing around creating drama so she can get attention. She tried to hook me with a physical complaint today, but I was tied up with the funeral, so that didn't work. I suspect that this was her next attempt at attention. Unfortunately, I did not get Case Manager's message until it was too late to call her back. Even worse, Case Manager is off for the rest of the week.

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I've explained to her quite clearly that making false reports can get her into a great deal of trouble. So now she's saying she doesn't remember exactly what happened. That could be accurate. I think the line between reality and fantasy is often blurred for her. It sure does make it hard to figure out what's real with her.

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I suspect she will continue to escalate until the move is complete and she is settled in to a new routine. Hopefully I will be able to maintain my patience and sanity until that happens.

Sold!

On our way back to the motel after supper, we drove by our house. It has a sold sign on it. Daughter squealed in excitement. Realtor is going to let us in after we sign the paper work on Monday.

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Daughter had a mini-meltdown once we got back to the motel. One of her friends sent her a text about the latest drama at the workshop. That was the trigger, but really it was just the accumulated stress of the day. She did so well, and I was so proud of her. Tomorrow will be easier. Worship, reception, lunch with the search committee. There's a hot tub here at the motel that is calling our names. We'll check it out tomorrow evening.

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One nice adjustment we'll have to make-- everything is so close together here. I'm used to combining errands and finding things to do in Town if I have more than one event there on a given day. Here, it will be possible to stop home or back at the church between events. A number of people have told us that our new home is close to the park where they do the fireworks on the 4th of July. They suspect we'll be able to watch the fireworks from our yard. Of course, we're usually at a conference over the 4th of July. I will be teaching the Bible study at it again next year.

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I'm going to go over the sermon one more time, and then go to bed.

The Ballpark

There is a ballpark here in Tiny Village, and in the summer there are softball games there several nights a week. When Daughter was younger, she'd go hang out over there some evenings. Any kid who retrieved a ball from the corn (or bean) field beyond the outfield fence got a free bag of popcorn from the concession stand. That made it a very popular place for the kids to hang out. Once she became diabetic, the popcorn became problematic and she lost interest.

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This summer she realized that those men's teams now include some of her high school classmates. Suddenly she likes hanging out at the ballpark again. So yesterday evening she rushed through her chores so she could get over to the ballpark. She told me she had her cell phone so she could text me when she was coming home.

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Her bedtime has always been 9:00, so at 8:55 I sent her a text: "Time to come home." She didn't respond and didn't show up, which surprised me. It had been delivered. I looked outside and it was getting dark. I looked over in the direction of the ballpark and realized the lights weren't on. So a little after 9:00, I sent a second text message: "Now!" Again there was no response and she didn't appear. I was trying to remember how to do locate on her when she came storming up the steps, furious with me.

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When she finally calmed down, I pointed out that I hadn't yelled or gotten angry, and she was the one who had ignored my texts and stayed out beyond her bedtime. I told her she wanted more freedom, which was fine, but she seemed to be saying by her actions that she wasn't ready to handle it. I was surprised when she agreed with that. She had been hanging with friends from high school, and she wanted to have the freedom of a 23 year old. We talked about the responsibility that came with the freedom, and how she wasn't doing so well with that. Finally she told me that yesterday's games were the last of the season. In other words, she didn't care if she got in trouble and I didn't let her go back to the ballpark-- the season was over.

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This morning she's wondering if it's too late to say she doesn't want to go back to the workshop. I told her that was why she was starting with one day a week, because we knew she might change her mind.....

Return to the Workshop

Daughter told me yesterday she wants to go back to the Sheltered Workshop. Her reasons keep changing:

• It's too noisy at the Gift Shop (it's quieter than it is at the workshop).
• She wants to be with her friends (though most of them are no longer at the workshop).
• She wants to work on her job skills so she can get community employment when we move.

I suspect the stress of the anticipation of the move is hard on her, and she is trying to run away from it, thinking it is connected with the Gift Shop. We talked to Therapist about it this morning, and had a conversation with Case Manager this afternoon. I have suggested that she try one day a week, and if that goes well, we'll gradually increase it. I've also made clear that she has to work if she wants to stay at the workshop. I suspect she may be going there for attention. When I asked for specific names of friends she wants to be with, the vast majority of them are supervisors and administration.

Case Manager agreed with my plan, and is going to take it to the higher ups. Do I think she'll be happy at the workshop? No. I do think, though, that I have to step aside and give her a chance, and set it up in a way that gives her an opportunity to succeed. We'll see how it works. Maybe I should set up a pool and give you all the opportunity to predict how long it will last. I think the plan is for her to go to the workshop this coming Tuesday. It will be interesting.

The First Confirmation Daughter Needs to Move

Yesterday evening Daughter told me what happened last Friday night. We didn't go to the concert yesterday evening. We were under a heat advisory, so we stayed home and Daughter snuggled next to me while we watched TV. Early in the evening Daughter had asked me why we couldn't just move now (it will be at least 2 months before we move). But later she began to cry and tell me she couldn't move. She couldn't leave her friends, especially Best Friend Mommy, who has appointed her godmother to her baby. She couldn't leave because she wouldn't be able to see them. I pointed out she didn't see them now, and asked how many times she had seen the baby. She surprised me by telling me she'd seen them twice. I asked when she'd seen them the second time, expecting to hear the BFM had come by the workshop with the baby.

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She told me a scary story. Last Friday, after they finished pizza, Nice Guy began pressuring Daughter to sneak off with him. He wanted to go to the courthouse and get married. I think he must have finally used the heat and the promise of visiting BFM to get her into the car. Once he got her into his car, he wouldn't let her use her cell phone to call me for a while. I don't know what all happened, and I'm not sure I want to know. Fortunately, the courthouse was closed, so getting married wasn't an option.

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I am very grateful that Daughter broke up with NG Sunday evening. I hope that when I get her situated in a new program in Capital, there won't be the pressure to be a part of a couple and get married and make babies. That's one of the things I will be looking for in any programs we consider. I'm glad that I'm going to be getting Daughter away from this culture.

Joy

Daughter came downstairs this morning singing and dancing with joy. It was hard to believe that this was the same person who had sobbed in my arms last night. She was excited about spending time with Nice Guy this evening. She was looking forward to seeing Super Supervisor. She was happy. It was wonderful to see her in such a good mood.

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When I came out of PT, she was jumping up and down in the waiting room in anticipation. She had called the gift shop while she was waiting for me, and knew that SS was back. She wanted me to her hurry up and get her there.

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SS greeted Daughter at the back door. She told me she was exhausted from spending the nights at the hospital with her husband, who had surgery Monday. She said, "I needed to get back and see these guys." The drama there would drive me crazy. For her, it is a calling, and it give her joy. That's why she does such a good job. She loves that strange assortment of disabled individuals who gather daily at the gift shop. We are blessed to have her.

Tears

Daughter spent a good bit of yesterday evening sobbing. She didn't know why she was crying, she just was. I suspect there were a number of things that contributed to her tears:

1. The possibility of a move and all the of the change and uncertainty that will bring.

2. The recognition that she's not ready to move out/get a job/return to the workshop. She knows that her bed wetting is speaking loudly. When she's mentioned the various goals, she always says, "Part of me...." She never argues when I point out that her bed wetting is telling me she's not ready.

3. Nice Guy. She wants to have a boyfriend, and it's hard on very hard on her to have a boyfriend. She wants to be with him, and she's terrified of being with him.

4. Super Supervisor's continuing absence. Yesterday Sub called convinced that 3 units was too much insulin for Daughter's lunch. It's the same amount she always takes. Sub has supervised her taking 3 units numerous times now. Daughter also expressed discomfort because Sub has loosened some of the rules. She doesn't like that. Hopefully SS will be back today.

So I held her. I acknowledged that the thought of moving is hard. I reminded her that the important things would remain the same, no matter where we live: I would be her Mom, her safety would still be my number 1 priority and that Kitten, Daughter and I would still be a family. Eventually she fell asleep.

This evening she has plans to meet NG for supper (she wants me at the restaurant, but has told me I need to sit at a different table) and the concert in the park. Hopefully the weather will cooperate and it will give her something to look forward to today.

Nice Guy's Back

Nice Guy came over to hang out with Daughter Monday evening. Daughter told me after he left that she had to tell me something. I told her I knew that they were back together. She was amazed that I had figured it out. She's predictable. She says he's promised not to talk about marriage until she's ready.
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He's working as a dishwasher in a restaurant, but apparently is going to go to the workshop on days he's not working. Now Daughter wants to start back at the workshop immediately. She made it very clear to us yesterday she wasn't ready when she asked me to make it 21 days of no bed wetting before I let her go back. She was wet this morning, yet after a conversation with NG on the phone was begging me to let her go back now.
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I wonder how long the romance will last this time.

Compromise

Daughter told Therapist she wants to go back to the workshop. Therapist and I discussed it, and I suggested we tell her that if she is dry for 7 nights in a row, we'll begin discussing it. I see the bed wetting as her attempt to keep herself safe, and I don't think she's ready to return to the workshop if she's not feeling safe.
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We brought Daughter in, and we had the following conversation:
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"What's my number 1 priority?"
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"My safety."
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"I don't want you going back to the workshop until you are feeling safe. When you wet the bed, it tells me you don't feel safe. After you have been dry for 7 nights in a row, we'll begin to talk about what needs to happen for you to go back to the workshop."
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"Can we compromise?"
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"What's the compromise?"
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She began counting on her fingers, and then offered, "Let's make it 21 days. That will be three weeks. You have to check my bed, depends, and pj's every day to make sure I'm really dry."
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She has an interesting definition of compromise. Therapist and I discussed it. She's definitely telling us she doesn't feel safe and isn't ready to return to the workshop. She has been diligently working on her chores since she came home and is in a much better mood. Tomorrow she's going to make and decorate signs to post around the house reminding herself that her goal is to go back to the workshop. It will be interesting to see if this actually motivates her. I'm not going to hold my breath waiting. I will enjoy her cooperative attitude for as long as it lasts.

Nice Guy

Nice Guy just left. He left at 10:35. He's lucky, because he learned a very important lesson tonight. At least, I hope he did. Daughter called him earlier this evening, and he was crying and hysterical. She came in and told me he was coming over, because he needed to talk to me.

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He had been with some new friends earlier today, and one of the girls was going to call the police on him. If he's telling me the truth (and I think he is), he picked up a 13 year old girl who was walking along the side of the road. They became friends, and she introduced him to a 15 year old girl that he could date. He met her today, with other girls present. He swears he didn't touch her and was never alone with her. I hope he's telling the truth. I told him he is not to be friends with or talk to women who are under 20 (he's 22). I assured him that if he was telling the truth, he didn't have anything to fear if the girl did call the police, because he didn't do anything illegal, but that it was stupid to even think of dating a 15 year old.

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I hope he learned from this. I hope he took this as a strong warning. I told him it was a gift. Their friend was found competent to stand trial recently, I saw it in the paper. He was sexting a 13 year old. I find myself wondering whether the workshop is explaining to these young men the dangers of being involved with minors. If they aren't, I think they should be, because there is entirely too much of it going on. I explained to Nice Guy that teenage girls were excited and flattered to have a 22 year old man paying attention to them, and it isn't safe. He wanted to just stay here a while. By the time he left he was calmer, and I don't think he was as scared. His mom is working tonight, and he was afraid to tell her. I told him to tell her he'd learned an important lesson tonight, and that she wouldn't say anything to him that he hadn't already heard from me.

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Daughter was a good friend to him tonight. I'm proud of her. I'm also tired. She's going to have a hard time getting up in the morning. I'm not looking forward to that battle.

Escalating

Daughter became unresponsive on the bus this afternoon. The squad was called and she was transported to the ER. Vitals and all labs were normal. I didn't kill her, either. I figured that since she was in the ER, they'd resuscitate her. Plus, there would be witnesses. She was mad at Super Supervisor, and I didn't offer sympathy when she called to complain. I told her she had to work it out with SS. She told the squad not to call me because I was too busy and she isn't worth it. For some reason, I'm tired. It could be a very long weekend.

A Moment of Joy

This morning I had to leave at 6:15 to go get an MRI on my knee. I dragged Daughter along, since I couldn't leave her home alone and I wasn't going to try to find someone to come stay with her that early in the morning. I told her we'd go out for breakfast when I was done, which guaranteed she'd be cooperative. She worried, of course, and thought it took too long. I thought it took to long, too, but for different reasons. If I keep the sore knee straight for any length of time, it hurts. By the time they finished the scan, the whole leg was one giant cramp.

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At the restaurant I told Daughter I had listened to the Nutcracker Suite through the headphones they gave me during the scan. Her face lit up, and she began to sing one of the tunes for me. As I sat there, watching her across the table, it was a moment of pure joy. She was so happy, so beautiful, and I was so grateful that she is my daughter. Moments like that almost make up for the challenges.

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She's home with me today. I decided I'd lost too much of the day to take her into the gift shop after the MRI. She was frustrated, but with some help began focusing on the positive. She's now doing household tasks to earn money to pay off the ipod. This morning was the second day in a row she was dry. I will enjoy these good moments for as long as they last. They help carry me through the challenging times.

At Last!

Blogger has been down for me since yesterday evening. It's good to finally be able to blog. Yesterday afternoon Daughter finally managed to apologize. I thanked her, and told her she needed to show me with her actions. She asked me what she should do. When I responded that she knew what to do, she said, "No, I don't. I'm just a child." I gave her instructions.

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She told me she's afraid I'm going to die. I knew that the possibility of knee surgery would make things difficult for/with her. I told her I was going to live-- unless the stress of her disrespect killed me! She took care of supper last night, and hopefully she'll continue to be helpful.

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She's called me twice today. The first time she wanted to know if I had my knee elevated. The second time she was crying and told me she was scared she was going to lose me. She sees Therapist tonight, so hopefully she will help her sort things out. At least Super Supervisor was at the gift shop today.

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She has been sneaking food again. She can really wear me down after a while. Tomorrow morning I have to go for an MRI bright and early in the morning. I'm taking her with me. I think we'll go out for breakfast after the MRI, and then I'll take her to the gift shop.

Three Friends

Daughter called me when she was almost home to tell me she hadn't called me today. I wouldn't have figured it out without that call. She was very excited when she got home. Super Supervisor was back. She told SS that if she didn't call me all day I'd take her to the concert tonight, so she was going to have to talk to SS if she was upset about anything. The one man was much calmer now that SS was back.

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How much impact did SS' absence have on Daughter? She was entirely different this evening. I was amazed by the change. Daughter asked me about my day, and when she heard that I had been to the nursing homes, she asked about the health of the residents by name. She expressed concern when she saw me rub my sore knee. She was cooperative at home. I'm going to have to talk to SS about these days off-- they are entirely too hard on Daughter (and me)!

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We went to the pizza buffet and then the concert. I set up my lawn chair near the back of the crowd. People start claiming their space at 1:00 in the afternoon, so by the time we get there, it's hard to find spots close enough to see the stage. There was a huge crowd there tonight, because there is also an annual festival going on in Town. That made parking a challenge.

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Daughter hooked up with workshop friends and was up front dancing with them. She also saw three of her high school friends. M is pregnant with her 2nd child. She caught her husband with another woman, so Monday she's going to start the divorce process. She's due next month, and she's supposed to be on bed rest. Somehow I don't think walking around Town pushing a toddler in a stroller is bed rest. She doesn't have a job. K was there with her older son. She had an infant she left home sleeping. Her husband is abusive. Neither of them are employed. N is also pregnant with her second child. She told Daughter she is working and happy. Daughter was talking about her friends on the way home about her 3 friends on the way home. All of these women were in Daughter's special ed classes. She was lamenting the way they are messing up their lives and the impact it is having on their children. She expressed no envy, and only appropriate concern. Like I said, I'm going to have to talk to Super Supervisor about not taking any more days off....

Three Smiles

I took communion out this afternoon and had some wonderful visits. The 92 year old woman I had with me asked about the cord for my GPS, so I demonstrated it for her. She thought it was wonderful.

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Daughter made it through the day without calling me, so we will be going to the concert this evening. She isn't home yet, so I don't know if she had Sub or Super Supervisor today.

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I received a call from my neighbor. They caught the man who assaulted her a year ago! They had been waiting for DNA results. He's been in jail for the last 5 months and is charged with abduction and assault. She is so happy, and was surprised by how much relief she felt. She said, "I assume you'll say a prayer of thanksgiving." Of course. Too bad she doesn't believe in God.

Friday

Daughter is off to the workshop, armed with a list of things she can do when she gets anxious that don't involve calling me. She is strongly motivated by the desire to attend the concert in the park tonight. One of her friends (and one who isn't caught up in all the drama) has earned the privilege of going to the concert, and Daughter wants to meet her there. Much to her annoyance, I reminded her of how many times I've given her another chance and suggested she do the same for Sub. She is now convinced that Sub almost killed her with insulin mistakes, so it is going to be a challenge for her to trust her.

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This morning I'm going to finish the sermon, and this afternoon I will pick up one of the saints and take communion to some of our shut-ins. I'm looking forward to the concert this evening, so I hope Daughter doesn't blow it. If I ignore her calls, can I pretend I didn't receive them so we can still go to the concert? Unfortunately, if I didn't answer her anxiety level would sky rocket as she tried to figure why I wasn't answering. If she does call, I'll convince myself I didn't want to go to the concert. There's a festival in Town this weekend which could make parking difficult to find. I don't want to have to walk far on my bad knee. It's amazing how much more it hurts now that I know I tore something....

Bribery

Sub was at the workshop today. I've had 3 calls from Daughter. The first time she was sobbing so hard she couldn't talk. The second time she claimed one of the men had flashed her (though no one else had seen it). I told her she can keep herself safe even when Super Supervisor isn't there. She told me she couldn't. I stood firm, suggested coping techniques, and let her finish the day. She should be arriving home soon.

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I've come up with a devious plan to get her to stay through the day tomorrow without all the phone calls. I'm going to tell her that if she makes it through the day without calling, I'll take her to the concert in the park tomorrow evening. Tomorrow the entertainment will be provided by a group that plays music by one of her favorite '60's groups. She asked me this week about when the concerts would start, and who would be playing at them.

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Hopefully something to look forward to will be the incentive she needs to get through the day without calling me. I call it an incentive, though some might call it bribery....

PTSD

Daughter was off yesterday evening. She spent much of it sleeping. I attributed it to a couple of things. She came home distressed and told me that Super Supervisor doesn't know what days she'll be there and what days she'll be gone, so she'll be spending more time with Sub. Daughter tried to explain why, but it didn't make sense.

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She overheard my phone conversations setting up an MRI for my knee and an appointment for a GI consult. She insisted on knowing what was going on, so I told her. I assured her I'd be fine, but she said she wished she hadn't asked.

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Somehow I missed a phone call yesterday afternoon from the workshop I listened to the voice mail this morning. It seems that they took a group of more seriously impaired individuals over to the gift shop for a field trip. One of the men took off his shirt (as he is prone to do). Daughter freaked out, proclaimed he was naked, covered her eyes and ran to the bathroom to hide. Sigh.

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I asked Daughter if anything had happened that had bothered her yesterday. She was tentative as she tried to figure out how much I knew. I had to ask several times, and finally she told me the story. In her version, he also took his pants off so he was just in his underwear. I was wondering how they'd managed to miss adding this detail in the account to me when she said, "Even though he's in a wheelchair he was able to do it." She also told me that Sub told her it was okay and he did it all the time.

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I see a failure to communicate. For Daughter, it was such a big thing she had to make it even bigger by having him remove his pants. For Sub, Daughter was over reacting and he does it all the time. I now have a better idea of why Daughter was not quite right yesterday evening. She told me at one point that she had too many things racing through her mind. Today I have a better idea of what some of those things are. Unfortunately, there aren't any easy answers. As Psychiatrist reminds me regularly, she has very limited coping skills. They are being stretched to the max right now.

And the Reason Is....

As I was heading towards City for an appointment, my cell phone rang. With a sinking feeling, I saw that it was Daughter. I answered, wondering what crisis she might have created to try to convince me to come pick her up. I was amazed at how happy she sounded. "Guess what!" She didn't give me time to guess before informing me that Super Supervisor was back. She'd just come in and and Sub was going to leave to go back to the workshop.

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I wonder what it would take to convince SS to never again take a day off....

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I'm facing knee surgery and endoscopy. Back in March I injured my knee. It seemed to be getting better until I decided it was time to move up to the 6 inch platform for my wii step. I finally decided I needed to go to the doctor. I tore something. She said I probably had a small tear after I fell, and then the taller step shredded it. They're going to schedule an MRI and get me in with an orthopedist.

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My ongoing heartburn that's not responding well to over the counter medications is a sign that I now need to see a GI specialist and get it scoped to determine the extent of the damage and see if I need my esophagus stretched.

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I'm feeling a bit old, but the bigger issue is going to be Daughter's response to all of this. She'll have to know, and she will totally freak out. She'll be convinced I'm dying. I'll wait to tell her. Maybe we can have a few good days now that SS is back before she finds out that I am human and begins her next decline....