I'm done

I've decided that someone else can have my job.  I'm giving my notice. I quit. No need for severance.
I'm tired of the fighting. The yelling. The name calling. The broken things. The holes in the walls.
Throwing things at me when I don't make the right thing for dinner.  The "I don't care what consequence you give me, there's nothing you can do about it."  The "I don't care if you say I can't do __________,  I'm gonna do it anyway."   The breaking into my room and taking whatever he wants.

I am no longer an effective employee.  If there's any question about this, look no further than the other two charges in my care.

Jasper

This is the text I received yesterday, "We need u to babysit a cute stray dog.  We took it to the vet.  No microchip.  She's too sweet to take to pound.  Or he.  Put out a Craigslist ad.  No reply.  If she is still at our house when we get back"  Before I even finished reading this, the phone rang.  It was my sister asking if I had read her text about the dog.  She said the dog wandered into her yard when one of the kids left their gate open.  They had just driven to Bend to pick up a rescue Border Collie and couldn't keep another animal.  So she asked if Egypt could look after him.  Just days before this, I had been scouring the internet looking for an Australian Shepherd rescue dog.  Even rescue dogs are very expensive (more so when you don't have a job to buy one in the first place!).  I had found an adorable mini Aussie in West Linn and emailed twice about him.  But no answer. 

I guess we were waiting for God to drop Jasper into our lives.  I keep telling the kids not to name him.  He's just the sweetest animal - obviously was cared for at one point.  He knows several tricks, is very friendly and doesn't bark at us and follows Egypt everywhere.  But Australian Shepherds have really thick fur and it's really easy to let it get matted.  He loves being brushed and smooshes his face into your lap wanting to be petted.

I'm praying if the owner comes forward, that it happens quickly because the kids are already attached to him.  They are convinced that this dog was meant for us - how else would  we end up with a stray
Australian Shepherd?

What If

Things just keep getting progressively worse.  How is that even possible?  I thought we had hit the lowest point in this journey when we drove down to Springfield and dropped Holland off at a residential facility?!  Now it looks like we are going to be doing the same thing again.

It doesn't seem to matter how much we love this kid.  It doesn't seem to matter that we have tried doctor after doctor; countless medicines; diet changes; behavior modification treatment plans; various forms of punishment and praising of good behavior.  His damaged brain just will not learn that we love him and his actions beget consequences like calling the police.  We are working with Catholic Community Services.  We have a mental health team in place at school.  We are working with a psychiatrist.  He has all these skills that he's supposed to have learned from his stay at the treatment center in Springfield.  And still.....

He is becoming so dangerous and violent that the only way to keep the family safe is to get him into Treatment Foster Care.  And the only way to get him in that placement is to first get him admitted into a residential facility again.  This is what we were trying to do when he first was released from Safe Center.  The recommendation was for Treatment Foster Care.  But because of all the insurance tie-ups, there was no way to get him into that.  Plus, DHS was not backing that recommendation.  So his transition from a very structured residential placement to back home took place and we are now looking at getting him into another residential placement so he can enter the Treatment Foster Care system.  Because he is considered in a "safe" placement being at home, DHS will NOT place him in a foster care home right from here.  So we have to get him into residential, and then get him placed into a Treatment Foster Home.  We are talking a MAJOR traumatic event in this child's life.

And there's nothing left to do about it.  We are out of options.

He doesn't trust me.

Every time I say we're going to a doctor's appointment, he doesn't want to get in the car.  And why would he? 

This week is shaping up to be one of the worst in the history of our family.  And to top it off, I was reminded yesterday, the Mother of all Days, that I have failed in this one job I have been given.   On the way to church, I made the boys get out of the car and walk back home.  They had been arguing all morning and I told them they had until 10:30 to get themselves ready.  I was going to leave at that time, whether or not they were ready.  I sat in the car as they ran with shoes and still yelling at me that I didn't wait.  I pulled over the car, and said "get out.  You've made me late and I don't want you with me."  So they did.  How's THAT for a mother's day treat?   Then I had Egypt crying that I wasn't buying the family a dog, because their cousins just got one.  I almost turned the car around and dropped her off at home as well.  To top off the best of all days, there was a baby dedication at church.

I saw myself fourteen years ago, standing up there with Super Hero, as we were dedicating our lives to raising our son to follow Christ and praying for protection from Evil.   We have had many prayers surround us, but Evil has not tread lightly on us.  All I could think about was how I felt those prayers had escaped us these past years.  I believed that we would be protected and I pictured raising children to follow a Godly path. 

It is incredibly hard not to feel the sadness that goes along with this kind of life.  When we were first trying to start a family, it was always the "what ifs", when we we couldn't conceive children.  Now, it's the "what ifs" that go along with raising a child with severe mental deficits and the unknown outcome of his disabilities.