Update on the Little Prince

My last post was one of desperation. I have to say that things didn't get much better after that. Billy's tirade lasted four or five days. One particularly bad day, I took my phone, walked out onto the porch, shutting the front door on the sound of Billy banging on his bedroom door, and sat down to call a close friend and cry. We talked for a while and one thing she said to me was that she was not an advocate of institutionalizing children, but she was afraid that in this case, it might be necessary. I was NOT pleased to hear that.

My husband had worked the night before and as he works 24 hour shifts, he was sleeping that morning. When he woke up and found me in a state of tears, snot, and raw nerves, he said I should have woken him up. He said that we might have to think about hospitalizing Billy. I immediately burst into sobs and wails, saying that's what my friend had said and I couldn't imagine such a thing. How could I send my 6-year-old away to strangers? He's my baby! My husband helped me count my blessings to calm me down and urged me to call our counselor to see what he thought.

When the counselor called me back and heard the tale of woe, his response was that if we didn't get him under control quickly, we might have to send him to a residential treatment facility. We met with him and I cried in his office. I knew that I would do whatever was best for Billy, even if it meant sending him to some in-patient treatment, but the idea of it ripped my heart out. Our counselor urged me to harass the psychiatrist's office every day until we were able to get an earlier appointment. He said he was not able to make diagnoses, but he was leaning towards Billy having bipolar disorder, as well as some OCD, which would require some other meds (which would hopefully bring the situation under control without having to send Billy anywhere). We, personally, have long thought he might have some mild autism, perhaps Asperger's.

The psychiatrist's office was able to get us in last Wednesday. Since our counselor works some days out of the same office as our psychiatrist, he had met with the doctor and discussed with him the problems and his observations before our appointment. When I came in, he asked me some questions and then asked me if we were willing to go to a stronger medicine. It carries more risks, but we are at our wit's end and we don't know what else to do. The counselor who has been at this for thirty years doesn't even know what else to do at this point. And it has to be better than sending him to a facility. So, they took him off his afternoon med and his antidepressant and put him on an anti-psychotic. The doctor is not willing to change his diagnosis yet or label Billy as anything, but the meds that he put him on treat autism, bipolar, and schizophrenia. My ex-husband's family has more than enough bipolar and schizophrenia to go around, so it is entirely possible that one or more of my children could inherit these problems.

So, we've started him on half a dose. When his body gets used to that and he overcomes his sleepiness from the meds, we will bump him up to a full dose. We are praying that this makes a difference for him and that he will have little to no side effects from it. He did not behave well Saturday, when I hosted a friend's baby shower. But, he has been pretty good yesterday and today, so we are praying that this continues.

One blessing to come out of this was that I visited a new Sunday School class last week and met a woman who has a son with mild autism. He was placed on the same meds and she swore by them. So, when the doctor suggested them, I had already heard of them. And it is nice to have someone to talk to who knows what we are going through.

Our next step with him is to get him a dental appointment. He has needed some work done for a while, but it was either that we didn't have the money for it or that we had hoped he would lose the baby teeth soon rather than wasting a fortune on teeth that may fall out in a month. However, he has a couple that are really causing him problems and look really bad. My husband also believes that if his teeth were fixed, he might eat more and might be better-tempered. However, I am not sure how we will get him to hold still for the work I foresee coming. If they come near him with a needle or a drill, he will flip. The insurance company said they would cover sedation if the dentist gets pre-authorization and can show reason why it is necessary. I had hoped for a little bit more of a concrete diagnosis for Billy. I mean, they might be more likely to approve sedation for a child who has autism or bipolar disorder than a child who is just diagnosed as ADHD. ADHD just doesn't adequately cover Billy.

If his eating doesn't improve after his dental work, I am going to take him back to our primary care physician. I worry about his physical health as well as his mental and emotional health. He hasn't gained weight in more than two years (he's always been very skinny), he's almost seven and hasn't had even a hint of a loose tooth yet, and he complains about stomachaches all the time. He doesn't sleep well either, but I assume that has more to do with the mental and emotional issues he has.

Please pray for my little guy. I feel so sorry for him. But, I also feel sorry for the girls and for us because we all suffer with this.

Happy New Year

So, if you know me or my family or have read this blog before, you know that my son has ADHD and ODD and we are in the middle of counseling for that, as well as medicating him. It has been a VERY bumpy road, but over the last four years, I've grown accustomed to most everything. I get tired and frustrated, but mostly, it's nothing new. This week has shown me that I ain't seen nothin' yet. Welcome to the new year....

Billy, as you may know, is six years old. He and his sisters went to visit their dad on Christmas day and stayed until the 27th. Billy came back a new boy. It was amazing. I thought maybe they had found a look-alike to switch him with or maybe he had been hypnotized or something. The only real answer was that his dad had given him a PSP (Play Station Portable) for Christmas and he was told that if he didn't behave with us, he would lose it at his dad's. As an added incentive, he was also informed that his dad would buy him some new games for it, if he was really good.

For two days, he was an angel. I was dumbstruck. He didn't get in trouble for anything. He was sweet and pleasant and I really enjoyed him. I was recovering from being sick, so it was nice to be able to sleep in, my husband gave him his morning medication, and then I woke up to a happy family.

We were running low on his morning meds, which are his primary ADHD medication. His psychiatrist had had to cancel his appointment and couldn't fit him in again until the end of January. They went ahead and wrote a prescription to make up for the month. His doctor's office is in Leawood, KS and we live in Raytown, MO, so I waited to pick it up until he had his counseling appointment in Overland Park, KS on Friday. While his behavior for two days had been exceptional, his counselor predicted it would be short-lived. Judging from the behavior we had recorded before Christmas, Billy obviously wasn't taking us seriously and it was time to up the ante. He brought Billy in and explained to him that he cannot continue to treat his mother the way he has and outlined the new rules, which allow very little wiggle room for him. And, sure enough, the good boy started to unravel later that day.

I didn't think to take the prescription in immediately to have it filled. He had his last dose yesterday morning. About 5pm, it dawned on me that it was New Year's Eve and the pharmacy might be closing early. I called and it was already closed. I thought I might go out after the kids went to bed and find a 24-hour Walgreen's to get it filled.

Billy ended up having a meltdown. It all started because he took a bite of a sandwich that had been sitting on top of the trash can. I said that was gross, so then he wanted me to kiss him, to gross me out further. When I refused, he picked up a can of Febreze and aimed it at me. I told him to put it down several times. He ignored me and sprayed me in the face with it. He not only got me, but also the chicken I was cutting up for dinner. I told him to go to his room and since this was his second strike, he would be getting a peanut butter sandwich for dinner, instead of eating with the rest of us. He refused to go, so he was escorted to his room. He returned with a boxed game and threw it at me, hitting me in the back. My husband got up then and dealt with him while I finished dinner. It sounded like a major battle in there, but Scott eventually got Billy calmed down, but not before Billy tore down the shade in the window.

However, after bedtime, Billy started banging on the door, which is a no-no, according to his counselor. As per the counselor's instructions, I went in and held him down for 15 minutes (once he gets riled, he continues to escalate--the holding seems to "reset" him), during which he fought me constantly, spitting on me, etc. After that, I found that he had broken a CD I had let him borrow from the library, so now he not only has to use his Christmas money to replace the shade, but also the CD.

I was so wiped, I didn't want to get out again, so we decided we would get his meds filled on our way to church since the 24 hour Walgreen's is about a block from the church. But, we slept in and missed church. When we woke up, we were laying there, discussing what the game plan was for the day when the house phone started ringing. The only people that ever call our house phone are the kids' friends and telemarketers, so we didn't run to answer it. But, then I heard sounds of a child skirmish, so I immediately went to check it out. Billy's hands were covered in what looked like glitter glue. His oldest sister was screeching about how he had dumped out all of her makeup and something about prank calls they had been getting. I was in the bathroom, trying to wash Billy's hands when the doorbell rang. Our middle child looked out the window and yelled, "Oh my goodness! It's the cops!" I could hear my husband let them in and talking to them and I gathered that Billy had somehow called 911. The "prank calls" the girls had been referring to was the 911 operator trying to call back. It came up as blocked and the girls wouldn't answer it.

I finished cleaning Billy up and sent him to put some clothes on since he was running around in his underoos, for some unknown reason. Then he went to face the two police officers in our living room. They were very nice and understanding, but the woman lectured him on the difference between an emergency and playing with the phone. He looked scared while they were there, but after they left, he was laughing like it was no big deal. We were NOT amused. We sent him to his room.

I went out to get his meds refilled. The pharmacy we usually go to was closed for the holiday, so I went to Walgreen's. They told me they don't accept our insurance anymore! Since when? I get his nighttime meds there every month because our other pharmacy doesn't carry it! And it isn't as though we have some weird insurance--it's Blue Cross Blue Shield! She said that they made a deal with CVS. Lovely. I DESPISE CVS! Now, I'm wondering if that's the only place I can fill at now. If so, that's ridiculous! And thanks for changing our insurance without telling us!

So, I headed over to CVS, reluctantly. Of course, instead of a 20 minute wait like everywhere else, it's going to be an hour (guess that's better than the time I had to go there for meds for an allergic reaction I was having--don't get me started). So, I go to the store to get a few things and kill time. While there, my phone rings. It was CVS calling to tell me that they couldn't run my discount card. Our psychiatrist gave me a 50% discount card because the meds are so expensive. Even with insurance, the copay is $60 a month. The card makes it $30 a month. It's still a lot when you add in that he has two other meds (not as expensive, thank goodness) and the copays for both a psychiatrist and a counselor (the latter he sees once a week). Well, I guess I didn't realize he had been on it so long, but it's only good for a year and guess what? The year is up. Of course it is. They told me that if I can get the info for another card over the phone, they can process it that way. But, it's Sunday and it's New Year's Day, so there is no one in the doctor's office to give me numbers off a new discount card. So, now it's a decision of whether I buy the groceries in the cart or buy Billy's prescription at full-price. My husband and I decided since it was getting so late anyways, we would just give him his afternoon pill and try to call the doctor in the morning.

So, I finished my grocery shopping and came home. We were putting away groceries and cleaning up when my husband found that Billy's bottle of nighttime meds (anti-depressant) was empty. I just filled it about a week and a half ago. I nearly lost it. Billy denied it at first, but eventually cheerfully confessed to pouring it down the drain because it tastes yucky. I'm looking into the face of this adorable 6-year-old, who is telling me that he just wasted some more medicine that I am sure the doctor will not refill this soon. He is smiling, like he he has had the best day ever, despite the police showing up, the absent meds, the glowering twitching parent in front of him. Then I notice the blue fish stamps all over his face. I look around the room and see green marker on the carpet. I demanded all the crayons, markers, stampers, anything that marked. I confiscated them all. Then I gave him an hour to get his room clean or I would clean it for him.

An hour later, my husband and I came back and filled up two trash bags. Billy acted like he didn't even care. How do you work with a child that doesn't care and doesn't have any remorse?

It's like I have an overgrown two-year-old. I feel like I need to sleep in front of his door or handcuff myself to him so that I know where he is and what he is up to every second of every day. He sneaks out of his room at night and pours liquid soap out into the bathtub or hydrogen peroxide all over the floor. He mixes soaps with bath fizzers. He scratches "No Girls Allowed" in the paint on his wall. He finds scissors and cuts large holes into his pajama bottoms and pillowcases. He squirts his sister's body lotion all over the basement floor. He put her lip gloss on all the doorknobs. And that's just the mischief he gets into.

There's the spitting and the punching. He calls me an MF. He calls his sisters the B-word. He calls everyone idiots. He throws things at his grandma. He tears up everything, or tries to, when he has a temper tantrum--from kicking car seats and windows when we're in the car, to tearing down blinds and throwing things when he's at home. He bites. He kicks the cats. He ignores me and tells me "No!" He runs and hides from me when he's in trouble or doesn't want to do something. He tells us he hates us and wishes we were all dead. He tells me he's going to kill me.

Calgon doesn't take me far enough away. If I were a drinker, I'd be an alcoholic for sure. His counselor says it's going to be slow progress, but times like this, I swear I can FEEL gray hairs and hear my life clock ticking backwards: there's another year off my life. I don't think MY antidepressants are strong enough for days like these. I hope that in a few years, I can look back on this post and laugh and thank God for how far Billy has come. But, I really hope it doesn't take years.

Kimmy Turns Six!

Last week was Kimmy's 6th birthday. She shares her birthday with Chris' dad who passed away almost a year before she was born. I really wish they had known each other. I think he would have gotten such a kick out of Kimmy. (By the way, this isn't a recent photo, but I love it so much! It really shows Kimmy in true form!)

I can't believe that my baby girl is 6 now! In so many ways she still seems like such a little thing. But lately, watching her with her friends, I see a maturity in her that I don't see in her peers. Her friends still act like little kids, but she tends to act older. And she is so intelligent. I have to say that she is probably the most well-behaved of my children. We went to the grocery store the other day. Arrena and Billy were horrible. They acted up the whole way through--both had to ride in the cart, both fought, both grabbed at things, both kept running off, both were loud and obnoxious. Kimmy, however, walked next to me and helped whenever she could and was very quiet.

Anyways, back to her birthday. On her birthday (Wednesday the 2nd), we went to the zoo and then to Burger King for dinner. I let her open two of her gifts and her cards from other family members. We set off a couple of daytime fireworks (snappers, bumblebees, and parachutes). We saw some thick clouds rolling in and heard some rumbles, so we hurried to set them off instead of waiting for daddy to get home. Because of the approaching storm, the wind was a little strong and a couple of our parachute guys made an invasion on one of our neighbors backyards! YIKES! I had to go to work, so we didn't do much more than that. She was disappointed at the zoo because she had wanted to feed the giraffes at a feeding station that is open twice a day, but her favorite animals weren't cooperating. One year on her birthday, the keeper let her come back behind the public area and feed one of the giraffes. Of course I didn't have my camera with me then!

On Friday (the Fourth of July), we had her slumber party/BBQ. I didn't volunteer to work for the holiday. Her heart was a little broken because with it being summer and everyone taking vacations and also with it being a holiday weekend (which can't be helped as this is when her birthday falls), most of her friends couldn't come. One we couldn't get a hold of at all (which I think was no big loss as the only things I hear about her, besides, "she's my best friend"--one of many Kimmy claims--make me believe the girl is a bully), one was going out of town, one had other plans and came by briefly but couldn't stay the night, one never responded, and another (a cousin) was supposed to be dropped off by her dad, but they never showed up. Chris countered most of this by inviting his brother and his girlfriend and their four children (plus their sister's son who was with them), and his other brother and his three kids (his daughter was already planning to stay the night). We also had both the grandmas over, the family that dropped by briefly, my friend from work and her daughter, and a few parents who lingered to chat for a few minutes before scurrying off to their night of freedom! Ha, ha. Spending the night, besides my ten-year-old niece that I previously mentioned, was Arrena's best friend (we allowed her to have one friend over) and one of Kimmy's friends from kindergarten (the gym teacher's daughter).

I think they had a good time. I painted little girls' nails (and my own) in patriotic flair--alternating red with white stripes and blue with star stickers or rhinestones. Then I think we ate. We had set up a screen tent in the backyard, which is where the men went, but the women stayed inside (it was HOT). The kids either jumped on the trampoline or played inside. Then I had all the kids put on their swimsuits and turned on the sprinkler. I had planned on putting out the wading pool, but with fourteen children, the wading pool would have been way too small. Well, the sprinkler hadn't been on a full minute, I don't think, when Billy stomped on it and broke it, so the water sprayed down instead of up. I tried to turn it over, but it didn't last long and they were back on the trampoline. The kids got dressed again and Kimmy opened her gifts. Then they ate cupcakes. I had gotten Kimmy a "cupcake cake" in the shape of a rainbow. It was beautiful, but the icing was thick (the whipped kind) and it made for messy faces! After that, we made bracelets and necklaces with gads of beads that I had bought. When it got dark, we went outside and set off fireworks for them. I had made the most of coupons and special sales, so I had a big bag of fireworks and only paid about $45 for them. Billy was really impressed, but I think the girls are getting too old because Arrena complained it was boring (nearly got herself banished) and Kimmy wanted to know why we didn't have certain kinds.

Kimmy had her heart set on these chocolate chip oatmeal cookies that I make, so I was making those at 11:00pm! Only one of the girls didn't like them--the rest loved them. I was sure they would all pass out soon (except maybe my niece who is used to staying up late), but when I went to check on them about 1:00am, only my two girls were asleep! The rest were wide awake and talking about cute boy actors! My poor little girls just hang with the party! You can see the little sleepy bodies in the picture! I went to bed not long after that, but was awakened at 2:30am by a knock on the door. It was the gym teacher's daughter with Billy. I still am not quite sure what was going on. I think he woke up and went downstairs to see what was going on and she brought him to me. That's his story anyways, from his limited vocabulary and garbled speech. I put him in bed with us and sent her back downstairs.

I woke up around 8:00am, thinking they would all surely still be asleep, after the late night they had just put in. I was wrong! They were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I fed them, two of the girls were picked up, I drove my niece home, dropped off the kids at their grandma's, went home to clean up the mess (!), took a nap, and went to dinner with Chris. I think I wore myself out with the plans, the preparation, and the party, because I have felt like a lazy lump ever since!

So, now my little bitty Kimmy is six! She will start first grade in a few more weeks (I can't believe it, but Kimmy's birthday was the halfway point in the summer break!). And now she has her first loose tooth! I don't know what to think about that. One of the things I love the most about Kimmy is her smile with her cute little teeth. I can barely stand the thought of her losing them! She pulled out one of her sister's just the other day. She makes fun of Arrena's "transition"--says her teeth look funny: some adult, some baby, some gone! I think it has been easier to watch Arrena grow since she acts so grownup (in attitude, if not in behavior!) than to watch my Kimmy-pop. She loves that nickname. I used to sing to her, "Kimmy, Kimmy, cocoa-pop...." So now, it gets shortened to Kimmy-pop, Cocoa-pop, Cocoa, or daddy sometimes calls her "Kimmy-cocoa."

Happy Birthday Kimmy!