The Plan

I went to the adult day care center today. While I was there, Daughter called me. She was sobbing. She wanted me to come get her right away. She needed to clean out her locker and leave forever. Someone wouldn't leave her alone. As I listened, what I heard was that she couldn't handle being in a place she knew she was leaving. So, I went and picked her up early. She cleaned out her locker and I got all her diabetes supplies from the clinic. She freaked the staff out by telling them she was not coming back. She was very happy and chipper about leaving. I'm a little shell-shocked.

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The waiver won't help with the daycare. There is a day habilitation program about 25 miles south of here that the waiver would help cover. Monday morning we're going back to the adult day care center so I can meet with the nurse. The plan is to start her on Wednesday. It will cost me almost $50 a day. Monday afternoon we'll go check out the day habilitation program. It sounds like their "members" are much lower functioning than Daughter. They work on life skills-- like meal planning, cooking, and cleaning. They have 4-11 members there on any given day. They do lots of activities in the community.

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Tonight we're going out to eat and then to a musical that Town high school is doing. Therapist's daughter has the lead role in it. Tomorrow will be the 15th anniversary of Daughter's adoption, so that is the reason for our celebration. We have some kind of celebration every year. Daughter is the one who keeps track, I never seem to think about adoption day, but she does. It's very important to her. I'm glad she sees it as something to celebrate.

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Case Manager was amazed at how happy Daughter was to be leaving the workshop. We hope that means it will be a healing move for her. I want to get her back to where she was 3 years ago. I want to see her moving forward, not backwards.

The Decision

In a little while I will be heading to Town to begin the enrollment process for the adult daycare center. The good news is that there is another young woman Daughter knows who attends 3 days a week (and the days I was thinking about enrolling Daughter). The better news is that her waiver may cover all (or some) of the cost.

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Some of the things I heard last night:

• Pregnant Best Friend has been pressuring Daughter to get married and pregnant because, as Daughter puts it, "It's a wonderful feeling to have your feet swell up and have to sit with your feet elevated and not be able to do anything." I think she was being sarcastic.
• Flasher has an engagement ring he intends to bring to Daughter (not sure how reliable he is).
• Flasher is on probation for assault.
• Daughter knows she wouldn't be safe with Flasher, but thinks he has lots of money.
• There are lots of interpersonal conflicts that Daughter gets drawn into, and she often feels the need to protect her friends from verbal abuse.

Now this morning, Daughter called me, sobbing, from the bus. She's afraid and not sure she wants to make this change. This was more in line with what I expected from her. She has a very difficult time with change, and I was amazed by how happy she was last night. Her happiness about the possibility was really what convinced me that it was the right move. This won't be easy, but I think it is a very important thing to do for Daughter's emotional well being.

Three years ago she was doing so well that we (Therapist and I) allowed her to make contact with her birth mother. She hasn't done well since, and we've always had some circumstance we could point to as the reason: contact with birth family, grandparents decline and death. She has adjusted to the reality that she can't have contact with her birth family because it is such a powerful trigger for her PTSD. She has dealt with the death of her grandparents. The only stress left in her life is the workshop. I'm hoping that in time this move will give me back the delightful Daughter I was enjoying 3 years ago. That is my hope and prayer.

A Decision

This evening I made a difficult decision. I'm pulling Daughter out of the workshop. I recently went back and reread some of my first posts here, and it made me aware of how much she has regressed. Sister pointed out a couple of months ago that it has been forever since Daughter was really stable for more than a week or two. My decision was confirmed when Daughter, after protesting for a bit, agreed that it was the right thing to do. I suspect that there are lots of triggers there for her PTSD.

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Since I can't leave her home alone and I can't do all the things I need to do in ministry with her with me, I'm going to see about enrolling her in the adult daycare center in town. I'm sure it will be expensive, not only financially but also in terms of my time. It's almost 12 miles to get there, so it will take about 90 minutes out of my day. My plan right now is to take her there on Wednesday and Friday. Tuesdays and Thursdays I'm in the office. We can put her to work folding bulletins and such, and I can spend those afternoons on sermons and other office work. Wednesdays and Fridays will become the days I schedule pastoral care over a meal and most visits.

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For visits that have to be made on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Daughter will wait in the car or in lobbies. She's done it before. I will call tomorrow to see what I have to do to get her enrolled in the adult daycare center. I'm sure there will be lots of forms and probably some doctor visits. I'm not looking forward to the complications this will bring to my schedule, but if it makes evenings more pleasant, it will be worth it.

Ministry

This has been an interesting week in ministry. I have been entrusted this week with family secrets, which is always an honor. It's hard, seeing the pain that is in so many families. They work so hard to hide that pain, to put on a good face. In the midst of hiding their own pain, they don't see that other families are in just as much pain. The causes may be different, but the pain is just as difficult. Because I've been so open about Daughter's struggles (I figure that the more people who know the truth, the more people there are to stop the wild rumors), people know that I can understand and empathize with their struggles.

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So I hear the secrets. I carry the secrets. I grieve, and I pray. We live in a broken world, and there is a great deal of suffering in it. Hopefully by sharing the secrets, they lighten their loads just a little. Hopefully hearing that they are not alone and that I am not going to judge them enables them to stand a little taller. Often, though, I wish I could do more....

A New Plan

I thought Daughter was doing better, and she did seem to be better Monday and part of yesterday, but I had a couple over for counseling last night, which she saw as an excuse to return to old ways. She took a bag of unopened croutons up to her room and ate most of them. She slept on a comforter instead of sheets, meaning it will take at least two loads to wash her linens today. This morning she attempted to hide her cheese in the trash instead of eating it at breakfast.

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Of course, in her eyes, I'm the one who is causing all the problems. I'm being mean. I'm treating her poorly. I got called a choice name this morning. I shouldn't have called her on behavior. I didn't yell, I didn't rant and rave or threaten dire consequences, I calmly reminded her of the rules. Her own conscience, though, is creating guilt that she's trying to blame on me.

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It's time to try a new tactic. New tactics are getting much harder to find, unfortunately. This evening, I'm instituting a reverse sticker chart. I read about it in one of the forums here. I will get a sticker every time she is disrespectful, lies, or fails to follow the house ruled. After I get a certain number of stickers, I will get a treat. I have to figure out what my treat will be, but I'll come up with something. Hopefully it will help me get back the attitude I had on Sunday morning.

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One of the books I read on Reactive Attachment Disorder talked about the importance of being "predictably unpredictable." I know that the reverse sticker chart won't solve the problem forever, but that's okay. If it gives us a few good days, I'll be grateful.

Taking Care of Business

Today has been a day for taking care of business. In the office this morning I worked on updating our database and straightening out some mailing lists. I took a break to take a young woman out to lunch and then came home and finished my income taxes. They were complicated by the family trust and the fact that I hired household help. I called Far Away Sister and she pulled up their tax return on turbo.tax, and I finally figured out what I needed to change in order for it to be accepted. Her husband had problems at the same point. Sister is going to work on her taxes tonight, and said she'd call me if she got stuck. The good news, though, is that I don't owe any additional taxes. I also exchanged some emails with the attorney who is setting up my will and the special needs trust for Daughter.

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Daughter came home in a surly mood. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me she wasn't allowed to talk about it at home. I reminded her that she also wasn't supposed to take out her bad mood on me, and she managed to turn it around. She seems happier, and I think she's being a bit more responsible. I have no idea why she is improving, but I am very grateful. She was even able to take some teasing at supper, and expressed appreciation for the chef salad and fruit salad I had made.

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I have a couple coming for premarital counseling tonight. When they first contacted me, I wasn't sure I'd be here for their wedding. I struggled with whether or not I should tell them I might not be here for their wedding. I'm going to be here for the next two weddings, and maybe even the one in January.

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God will provide the right place at the right time. I may need to listen to yesterday's podcast again....

Mission Accomplished

Yesterday evening Daughter came to me and asked, "Are you taking your shower in the morning?"

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"I haven't decided yet. Don't you want to take yours in the morning? I thought this morning was fun."
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"I thought it was torture!"

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I was delighted to know that Daughter had found my cheery shower attitude to be torture. It was what I wanted to happen--she got her way, and it didn't work out as she had hoped.

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I have spent the day running errands. This is the first chance I've had to sit down at the computer. It was a long day, but I got quite a big accomplished. Neurologist is weaning Daughter off one of her seizure medications. We are both pleased. Even Daughter has decided he's okay now that he is getting her off some of her meds. He told me he ran into some people from Tiny Village and told them that the preacher was a good friend of his.

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Daughter was complaining about the fact that they've moved her to a group that doesn't have work at the workshop. She couldn't figure out why. I suggest that if you turn down work enough times, they'll take it away from you and give it to someone else. She was not pleased, but later told Therapist that she had been moved because she "spent too much time standing around, complaining, hiding in the bathroom, and not doing work."

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I thought Flasher was history, and that Phone Harasser was the current flame. As of today, that's changed. She dumped PH and is back with Flasher. She told Therapist, "Do you want to hear the story of all the drama the workshop involving PH, Flasher, and me?"

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I was down yesterday after hearing I'd missed out on another church. Today one of the podcasts I subscribe to spoke directly to my frustration. God always provides something to put things in perspective.

Foiled Again

At youth group tonight, Daughter went over to the park with the kids to play softball. Secretary and I stayed in the church kitchen, where we had a supper for the kids. One of Secretary's Foster Sons came running in to tell me that Daughter had fallen. He looked concerned, but she was conscious, so I informed him it was attention seeking behavior and he should tell her to come back over to the church. FS grinned, "I kind of wondered."

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Daughter came in a few minutes later and showed us her injured knee and elbow. I looked and said, "No blood, you're fine." Secretary wasn't impressed either. I told her to sit down.

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She sat for a few minutes and then asked if she could go back and rejoin the game. I told her that no, I couldn't risk her falling again. After we were done, I made her stay and lock the door for Secretary. She protested. I informed her she owed that to FS.

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At track practice she'd made a show of not feeling well and checking her blood sugar. I was watching, but didn't ask how she was or move towards her. I'm sure she was quite disappointed to discover her blood sugar was normal.

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I hope that eventually she'll figure out this attention seeking behavior isn't working. I hope. I did have a wonderful time with our youth tonight. We truly have a great bunch of kids. It's nice that I'm finding rewards in my ministry to help shift my focus from the challenges with Daughter. I had a phone call today. The church I interviewed with last month is calling someone else. The right place will come at the right time.

Making It Her Problem

Daughter is very hard to roust from bed on Sunday mornings. I always have her shower the night before, so that we aren't competing for the bathroom on Sunday mornings. She insisted she wanted to do it this morning, and I told her she had to do it last night. Of course, she had to show me I couldn't control her, so she wet the bed.

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Now Daughter and I have very different ideas of what constitutes washing in the shower. Very different ideas. Since I don't watch her shower, I can't force her to actually use shower gel and wash her body. Doesn't work. This morning as soon as I got out of the shower, I began calling for her to get up and in the shower. She was slow, of course. I told her she'd have to take her shower while I was still in the bathroom, since we were running out of time. So while I did my hair and make-up, she showered behind me.

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I made sure I was cheery and congratulated her on winning-- she'd certainly shown me that she could take her shower in the morning. My back was too her, but I could see every move she was making in the large mirror I was using. So I insisted she had to use soap. Then I insisted she had to wash her face. In fact, I wanted her to wash every part of her body. She was not happy, of course. But I stayed chipper and told her how wonderful it was that she'd proved she could take her shower in the morning. I have to confess, I was having fun. She began breathing strangely and swaying. She was quite dramatic as she sat down in the bathtub and leaned against the shower door. I ignored it. I did tell her she'd best get moving if she was going to have breakfast before church.

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She finally realized she wasn't going to win and stood up and finished her shower-- suddenly she wasn't swaying at all. It's amazing, the healing power of anger. I finished my preparations, came downstairs and began to set up her breakfast. She has Special Olympics track practice this afternoon, so she came downstairs wearing sweats. I informed her she wasn't wearing sweats to church, and she'd have plenty of time to change following worship. She then demonstrated her skill in swearing to me, but did go change.

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By this time it was later than I had wanted to be over to the church, but I supervised her pills, gave her her insulin, and suggested she might want to do something with her hair before she came over to the church. Yes, I was frustrated with her, but I also thoroughly enjoyed calmly and cheerily giving her a hard time.

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After worship, I had to do something in the office, where her Sunday School class meets. The lesson was about respecting others. I told her I hoped she was hearing it. When she got home, she went straight to her room to change. She came down wearing shorts and a sweatshirt. I asked what she'd done with her other clothes. She'd put them in the laundry basket. I told her she needed to go hang them up. She told me she'd hung them up 3 times before she finally did. It took her that long to realize that I wasn't going to give up and I would check to see if she was lying. We ate lunch here at home today-- normally we eat out on Sunday. Lunch was not her favorite foods, but she at least was smart enough not to complain.

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Her three lies came after she apologized and told me she was going to turn it around today. So far she hasn't worked very hard at turning things around, but I'm going to make sure that it's her problem, not mine. I'm going to have a good day no matter what she does.

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A Ladder Up

This morning I realized that Daughter had once again gotten herself into her deep, dark hole, and probably didn't know how to get out of it. I left a note at her place at the kitchen table entitled, "A Ladder out of the Deep, Dark Hole." There was a list on it:

• Clean up bedroom and run the vacuum cleaner.
• Clean the back porch bathroom and sweep and vacuum the back porch.
• Respect Mom.

The last item on the list was the ice cream place she wanted to go yesterday. She does better with written directions than she does with verbal ones, so I didn't say a word. She read the list and said, "I can do this." I heard her upstairs singing as she was doing her work.

I figured something else out, too. She has been coming out of her room dressed only in a robe when I call her. She's been upstairs masturbating, which triggers her PTSD big time. I confirmed that was what was going on, and explained it to her. I said, "I bet it feels good, but then you feel scared and angry." She acknowledged this was the case. I told her that it was reminding her of bad things that happened when she was very little, but she was older now and had a voice, so that didn't mean it would happen again. Far Away Sister suggested I check her cell phone to make sure she wasn't taking pictures. I did, and she wasn't

It turns out Therapist was right. She broke up with Flasher on Wednesday, and told him she wouldn't come back again. She said he was talking trash to her. I didn't ask what that was. Of course, she's now going with Phone Guy. She was talking on the phone to him quite a bit a couple of years ago. His parents told her they were going to report her to the cops for phone harassment. PG insisted that she was making all the phone calls. When PG's mom called I told her that PG was making many of the calls. She insisted her son wasn't making any of them, it was all Daughter. I went over the cell phone statement and highlighted the calls. PG was making more of them than Daughter. They never acknowledged that they'd been wrong, of course. Whenever Daughter has wanted to get together with PG, I've reminded her of the history. There are other problems in his past, of course, but at the time, the police threat was quite traumatic for Daughter. (Men in uniforms are also triggers-- birth dad wore a uniform and would come home and beat the kids while wearing it.)

I made the list easy, because it's important for her to experience some success quickly. Hopefully this will break the pattern and get her moving forward again. For today, I seem to have found something that is working. It may not work tomorrow, but for today, it's working. For today, that is enough.

It's Going to Be a Long Weekend

I asked Daughter to fold about a dozen microfiber cloths I had removed from the dryer. She folded one, and then couldn't stay awake. She suggested that if I took her out for ice cream, that would wake her up. For some strange reason, I wasn't in the mood to take her out for ice cream.

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She spent the rest of the day hiding in her room. I intercepted 2 cans of pineapple and the can opener from her on her way up the stairs. I asked her if she ever planned to do a chore again. She informed me that I'm scaring her so she's just going to hide in her room all weekend. She'll survive by sneaking food out of the pantry. She refuses to tell me what I'm doing that's scaring her. I have the feeling it is going to be a very long weekend....

No Magic Eraser

Once again Daughter came downstairs this morning affectionate and apologetic. She seems to think that if she apologizes, it erases the reality that she is refusing to cooperate or do any work around the house. I've got to admit, it's a great idea. Refuse to work, let mom do everything, and then apologize and everything will be fine.

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Being a mean mom, I don't see it working that way. I told her I had been considering going to City tomorrow, but since I had all this extra work I was having to do, I was too far behind to make the trip. That bothered her quite a bit. Will it make a difference? I doubt it. The problem is, at some point I'm going to have to go to City. Since my day off is booked solid next week, it's going to be hard to find a time I can go and not take her. I'm reluctant, though, to give her what she considers a real treat when she is being so uncooperative here at home.

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The good news is that she's off to the workshop for another day. Hopefully my day will be productive, and tomorrow I can focus on household chores and not church work.

Issues

Like many kids who got a rough start in life, Daughter has lots of food issues. I remember an incident from her early days with me. I had made Spanish rice for supper, and when we were done I was pleased to see that we had enough left over for a second meal. I left the kitchen to do something, and when I returned, Daughter had eaten all of the leftovers. She was 3 years old.

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The diabetes complicates the food issues tremendously. Diabetes is hard enough without piling food issues on top of it. Everything she eats needs to be measured and covered with insulin. When she comes to me wanting to eat something, I seek to avoid saying no. I may ask her to wait until a specific time, or tell her she can choose one thing of two she wants. I may make suggestions of substitutions, but my goal is to avoid no.

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I also seek to minimize temptations. She loves pop tarts. At various times she has talked me into buying a box for her breakfast. We discuss the fact that she can have one for breakfast, and she can't sneak them. By the end of the first day, they have usually vanished. I finally stopped buying pop tarts. I generally make just enough food for the meal. Left overs are a temptation, and it is easier to calculate carbs if I just make two servings and then divide whatever it is between us. Generally, we don't have chips in the house. The bag she took the other night was for taco salad.

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Today when she came home from the workshop, she wanted to have a snack. She wanted the rest of the broccoli-rice casserole from Easter. I pointed out her blood sugar was a little high, and eating a snack would increase it, so she wouldn't feel very good. I also pointed out that we would be eating supper within 30 minutes. I planned on the left over casserole and sausage sandwiches for supper. When I called her to come eat, she told me she didn't feel good and wasn't hungry. Just 30 minutes earlier she was begging for food.

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Part of the issue is she has trouble interpreting her body's messages. Within the last two years she has come to me complaining of some ailment. When she describes the symptoms, I'll tell her she needs to go to the bathroom. She'll argue, but eventually go, and come out and reluctantly tell me I was right and she feels better. How many people in their 20's don't know when they need to go relieve themselves?

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She'll tell me her stomach is hurting really bad, and that she's burping and feels like she's going to throw up, and then ask for food to cure it. I try not to make food an issue, but obviously, it is. Tonight she refused to eat her sausage sandwich. She's retreated to her bedroom. I'm not sure if she really feels sick, or if she's just trying to avoid the laundry I asked her to sort and fold. I never know. I have told every school she has been at that I may end up sending her to school sick, but that I will gladly come and get her if she is really sick. My definition of really sick: someone has witnessed her throwing up, or she has a fever.

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Tonight I suspect her complaint has more to do with avoidance. I don't think she's happy with the way things are going at the workshop. She's doing a pretty good job of keeping the workshop at the workshop, and she didn't call me today. She did tell me, though, that they moved her out of the work group with all her friends. Her friends had work today, but she didn't. I can understand why they did that, but it's not necessarily good for her to be in a group that doesn't have work very often.

Trying Hard

Daughter is trying so hard to hook me in to the workshop drama. This morning she was chipper when she got up, and was being cooperative. She kept calling me, "Your majesty," and bowing to me. She even commented on how it was a good day. I walked into the kitchen where she was unloading the dishwasher. She was crying. Huge crocodile tears. I asked her what was wrong. Of course she didn't respond right away. I had to ask several times as the crying intensified before she was able to speak and tell me the problem.

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"I have to get a new job."

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"Why?"

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"I have to get a new job."

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"Why do you have to get a new job?"

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"Because of P-p-p-pregnant Best Friend. I can't be there with her."

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"I'm sorry you're having problems with PBF. You have other friends there."

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"No I don't. PBF has talked to all of them about me. I'm sorry. I know I'm not supposed to bring this stuff home."

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"Did you lie to her?"

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"No!"

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"Well, you have in the past."

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"But I promised PBF and a small group that I would never lie to them again."

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"Sometimes it takes a while for people to trust you again after you've lied to them so many times."

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She gave up when she saw I wasn't going to buy into the drama. It's her responsibility, not mine.

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She's off to the workshop and even managed to cheer up before the bus came. As she was going out the door. She had one last thing to say as she bowed to me. I'm trying to figure out whether she intended the literal meaning of I should take it as another sign of her challenges with proper use of some words. "I forbid you to have a good day, your majesty." Maybe it was Freudian....

My Joy

Today has been one of those days that reminds me how fortunate I am to be a pastor. I've been working on the sermon for Sunday, and digging into it in ways that I haven't in a very long time, going so far as to go to the original Greek. I'm excited about the discoveries I'm making, and look forward to sharing them with my people.

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This afternoon I visited some of our elderly members. I talked to a woman who just turned 95. She was excited about the party they had for her. She was so excited she told me about it a couple of times. Yes, she's a bit confused, but she certainly remembered her party! I talked to some of my favorite people, a wonderful couple who have been married for a very long time. He was a POW in WWII. She was telling me about a new book she's reading, and we talked some about politics. I shared the highlights from Easter.

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Then I went to visit a woman who recently returned to her home after a brief hospitalization and trip to a nursing home for rehab. She has buried her husband, daughter, great grandson, and her last surviving sibling fell and broke her hip this week. She was asking me questions about a sermon she'd heard on tv. We talked about family, and how she's coping with being home. Several times she repeated things I've said to her over the years. She was repeating things I don't remember saying, but she remembers them. My words have meant so much to her she's held on to them and pulls them back out to help her understand/cope with situations. I can't express what it means to me that my words would have such an impact on her life.

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I consider it a gift when God gives me rewarding days in ministry following a frustrating day of parenting. It helps balance things out.

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Daughter did call as I was headed to town today. She needed to be picked up from the workshop. I inquired as to why, hoping she'd broken up with Flasher. The problem was with Pregnant Best Friend. PBF called her a liar at lunch today. I showed great restraint and didn't point out to her that she does tell lots of lies. I didn't ask her if she'd lied to PBF. I did tell her she needed to work it out with PBF. She told me she couldn't, because PBF won't talk tot her. I suggested she converse with other people then, and reminded her that Therapist had told her she had a voice and needed to deal with these situations, and that what goes on at the workshop needs to stay at the workshop. She hung up on me. She is now on the bus home, so she made it through the day.

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Her problems are kept in perspective by a day of ministry that has given me such joy. I am grateful.

The Morning After

I was late getting to bed last night-- I had to cool off before my anger would let me sleep. As a result, I was a little late beginning my work out this morning, which meant that I had to fix Daughter's breakfast, get her pills and insulin, and bring them all out into the living room so that she wouldn't be in the kitchen unsupervised this morning.

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She was apologetic this morning, but she won't tell me that she'll stop the behavior. I think that is an honest answer. She acknowledges that my rules are reasonable and designed to keep her safe, but she just can't (or won't) promise me that she'll follow them.

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As per our agreement with Therapist, we haven't talked about Flasher. She's still with him, because she went upstairs to brush her teeth after breakfast. Getting her to brush her teeth is almost impossible, so her desire to brush them can only be the result of wanting to please a man. Therapist thought that by the end of today it would be over. I don't think that will be the case. It would be nice, but I think it's going to take more time.

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Flasher may be the one who breaks it off when he gets frustrated with only seeing her at the workshop and not be able to touch her there. I am glad it's not my problem.

My Meltdown

Daughter's blood sugars have been running low. I've been gradually reducing her insulin as I try to eliminate the lows. I've been concerned, because I know she's into extra food. I can't figure out why she's running low if she's into extra food. I've wondered if she could have gotten a hold of some insulin, though I'm really careful about keeping the insulin in a locked box in the refrigerator.

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Yesterday I discovered two empty food containers upstairs in the tv room. She had them hidden in a foot locker that I use to store old video tapes. She had jammed so much stuff in there (a number of her clean clothes that she didn't want to hang up were also crammed in there-- I was watching the floor of her closet, so she had to find a new hiding space) that she could no longer close the lid. That's how I found it.

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When she got home from the workshop today, her blood sugar was in the 60's, which is too low. It shouldn't have been that low, especially since she was a little high at lunch. She ate a few glucose tabs, and then I gave her some banana bread I'd made yesterday to use up some over ripe bananas. She'd has some banana bread for breakfast, and she was delighted when I gave her more to cover the low. She went upstairs to do her work. I went into the kitchen a few minutes later, and the banana bread was missing. There wasn't much left, but I knew where it had been, and it was missing.

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I went upstairs, and she was sleeping (her blood sugar was high, so of course she was sleepy). I demanded to know what she'd done with the banana bread. She'd eaten it all and put the empty container on top of the refrigerator. She knew I was unhappy.

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So a little later she comes downstairs and tells me how sorry she is and tells me she's trying to show me respect and do what she's supposed to do. Of course, she hasn't taken care of the recycling that needs to go out tonight, or the dirty clothes she's dumped on her bedroom floor, or finished hanging up the clothes I'd discovered yesterday. I told her she at least had to get the recycling out.

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Finally she began to move to do that. I went to the kitchen to unlock the lock box and get her night time insulin out, still worrying about the mystery of her blood sugars. I was pondering again the possibility she had somehow managed to get some insulin. I walked into the kitchen, and discovered a whole bag of Do.ritos was missing. I lost it. I yelled at her. I told her I was trying so hard to keep her safe and I couldn't, because she was working against me. I wanted to hit her, but I didn't. I told her to get away from me, I couldn't deal with her right then.

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I over reacted. I reacted out of my fear. It's possible that her eating is what has been keeping her safe at night. There is this problem people with diabetes have called, "dead in bed syndrome." Basically, a parent goes in in the morning and discovers their child has died during the night. The theory is that the blood sugar drops too low overnight, the individual doesn't wake up, and ends up dying. It's the fear of every parent of a someone with diabetes.

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It is impossible to figure out her insulin needs when I don't know what she has eaten. Impossible. And a mistake could kill her. She says she doesn't have any other food upstairs. Of course, less than an hour before I discovered the missing chips, she'd given me this heart felt apology and told me that she was trying to show me respect and cooperate. I can't keep her safe. I can't keep her away from Flasher. I can't keep her away from food. She will always find a way. If she can't get at food here, she'll go steal it from the church, or buy it from the vending machine in town. My number one priority has always been her safety. But I can't keep her safe from herself. She wins. Of course, ultimately that means she loses.

Secretary and Daughter

Yesterday Secretary had a biopsy on her lymph nodes. Today she is having knee surgery. She plans to be in the office on Thursday, though I've told her that she should stay home. The good news is that the surgeon told her husband that he doesn't think she has cancer-- he thinks her lymph nodes are swollen due to infection.

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Daughter is unloading the dishwasher right now, and insisting she doesn't have enough time to complete it. The bus won't be here for at least 10 minutes and we have a small portable dishwasher. I could have it done in about 2 minutes, but she might not have time. She moves very slowly.

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She didn't wet the bed last night, and woke up in a chipper mood. She announced that if there is work today she will do it. Therapist told her she couldn't call me, so we'll see how she does with that. I'm going to spend a bit of time in the office this morning before I head south for a meeting. The meeting will be church related, not about Daughter. That will be a welcome change.

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I'm relieved that the Flasher situation is now completely Daughter's responsibility. I don't want to know what's going on with the relationship anymore. It's not my problem. The challenge will to be to make sure that I continue to view it as her problem, and don't allow her to suck me in.

My Poor Tongue

Daughter had an appointment with Therapist this morning. Fortunately, Therapist had an open hour following Daughter's appointment. We needed it all.

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Last Wednesday, Daughter began to ease back into full time at the workshop. It was the first time she had been there with Flasher for a while. She agreed to be his girl friend again. She wants to be his girl friend.

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I'm angry, scared, sad, defeated, you name it, I'm feeling it. Therapist did her best to frame it in a helpful manner. We have a plan: Daughter has a voice. She used her voice to get into this, she will have to use her voice to get out of it when she's ready. Flasher's name is not to be mentioned in our home. None of us (Therapist, Case Manager, Me) will talk to Daughter about Flasher until after she's broken up with him. It's her problem, not ours, and we will not be pulled into the drama.

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She knows I'm angry. She sat in the back seat on the way home to give me space. She can see him at the workshop, but that's it. There will be no enabling contact outside of the workshop. What happens at the workshop is to stay at the workshop, and she is not to bring the problems home. She is to be responsible and do her chores here at home.

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I'm going to have to get through the anger so I can relate to her in constructive ways about home life. Therapist gives the relationship 48 hours. I hope she's right. We talked about how Daughter is looking more and more like she has Borderline Personality Disorder. Therapist tried to convince me it's not that bad a diagnosis. She still has some work to do before I'm going to believe it.

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I hope I will still have a tongue by Sunday. I am afraid I may have bitten most of it off by then. The one good thing is that Daughter is going back to the workshop full time, beginning tomorrow. If I'd had a lunch packed for her, I would have dropped her off today. There's no point trying to protect her from something she wants. Having her gone 40 hours a week should lessen my stress level significantly.

New Traditions

Daughter and I had a wonderful Easter dinner today-- just the two of us. It was a very good meal, and it was a total break with tradition. You see, my parents were procrastinators. They were good cooks, and could prepare wonderful meals. However, they always made it hard on themselves. Behind those good meals were frantic last minute preparations, last minute trips to the grocery store for things they had forgotten, and a terribly messy kitchen. If they weren't pulling everything together at the last minute, somehow it wasn't a holiday meal.

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I've kept the tradition of good meals, and dumped everything else. The fact that I've lived 10+ miles from the closest grocery store for over 13 years has made me a much more efficient shopper. If I start to make something and find I'm missing an ingredient, it is because Daughter has snuck it out of the kitchen to eat it. If I'm not headed to town for something else, I postpone making whatever needed the missing ingredient.

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Today we sat down to a good meal in a clean kitchen. We had ham, crescent rolls, a casserole made with brown rice and fresh broccoli, and strawberry cheesecake. All I had to do today was turn on the oven and open the can of crescent rolls. The rest of the preparation was done yesterday. I was able to enjoy a relaxed meal today. I was able to sit down and watch movies this afternoon without feeling like I should be cleaning the kitchen.

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There are still other areas where I am not as prepared as I'd like. Too many weeks I'm finishing my sermon on Saturday evening. The desk in my study is an ongoing battle. I figure that if I can break the holiday meal chaos habit, I can become more organized in other areas as well. I can hold onto my parents' good traditions, and improve on the more stressful ones.

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It's kind of like picking and choosing which of their personal items I want to keep. I keep the ones that give me joy and dispense with the ones that cause me stress or grief. I can do the same with their habits and traditions. I'm grateful for the tradition of good food and holiday meals they passed on to me. I'm glad that I was able to improve the tradition.