Kids by the Dozen

Kids by the Dozen is a new set of specials on the TLC channel. There's the Heppner family with their sixteen children, the Jeub family with their nest of thirteen, and the Arndt family with their fourteen children. I can't attest to whether or not I have that all correct, but do forgive, I can't even keep my own four children straight lately, and that's the solemn truth.

I suppose these shows are inspired by the ever so sporadic, but oddly interesting Duggar family specials, which my kids love to watch. I do believe they're trying to coax me into having another child. LiL' J of course wants a baby brother, although he says that our Boston Terrier is like a baby brother, even if he does poop on the floor. I told him that's about close to what a baby brother would do anyways. He seemed fairly convinced. Although he's postive he'd made a great big brother and he's having six kids of his own. He would make a great big brother and I wish I could handle more, but I'm not the bionic woman.

I'm a little jealous of these large families and how they manage to be so cute and put together with their matching wardrobes and group violin lessons. I watch in strange amusement. I don't know how they do it. Somedays I'm at the breaking point with just four. I'm an only child so four children feels like a really large family, which I did want. (I know I'll get a slew of emails asking why I had four kids, which isn't the point)

I didn't have a good role model for mothering while growing up. We lived like gypsies a lot of the time. From the time I was born until I was about eight I was surrounded by psychedelic music, men who made their living cross dressing on stage, pot smokers and a whole lot of incense. And all that was the least of my very colorful upbringing. There was everything but the compound and cult-like religious practices. I managed to grow to be a fully function with very little insanity. But, I haven't been the most patient dealing with the behavioral issues of children with ADHD and Tourette Syndrome. All but the youngest, he seems to have been spared, I have no idea what I did right there.

I can handle noise. I can handle interruptions. I can handle busyness. I can handle chaos. But, lately I can't seem to deal with the arguing and bickering and having to constantly micro manage everything. I suppose I need to wake up to the fact that I have teenagers now. Even at my young age of thirty-three. Let me say that outloud. Again. I have three teenagers? When the heck did that happen? Their hormones are all over the place and their brains aren't working anymore.

They are good kids and they've brought us so much joy. They're not into gross immorality, sniffing paint, or hanging out with the wrong crowd. They just are so very immature and act like total baffoons lately. And they fight constantly. Like all kids, they test the limits I suppose. It's amazing to me though, how they always seem to forget how they're suppose to act in the house. The "Crap" as The Husband calls it has reached a climax.

Take for instance my experience last weekend.

I feel over taken lately and it's easy to feel that way around these kids. I'd be deluding myself though if I didn't admit that I have some mild depression going on. I get like this every other winter. The doctors calls it S.A.D. I got it I'm Going Crazy-Where's The Off Button. I've been bummed out and way too annoyed. I hate that I'm so frustrated with them lately and so many days rarely enjoy being around them. I don't like myself when I'm like this. And feeling easily annoyed with your children makes it a little complicated seeing as though I'm home schooling them. We never get a break from each other. The only way I can imagine that having more then twelve children could possibly even work is if the kids listened and even more important, actually acted like they liked each other. And didn't hoard all the toilet paper.

Yeah, that's saying a lot, isn't it?

When it comes to these behemoth families, I have no idea what denomination most of these families belong to, but I do believe most are Christian with a quiverful outlook. I don't agree that that all Christians should be "quiverful" because some of us would go insane. I love kids. I wanted to have a family and be home with the children. So why do I feel so unhappy and frazzled all the time? I have to change something soon, because I seriously can't count how many times I've wanted to tell my own children to "shut up". One-hundred and thirty-eight. Since you asked.

I hate those words. I hate the fact that I'm yelling at my children. I adore them. I carried them in my loins for eighty months and I nursed them for eight hundred. I'm smart enough to know it doesn't do anyone any good and that person is not me. I'm turning into a very impatient biotch.

The Children have a wide range of crazy. Just when I think I can't be shocked by anything anymore I discover that one of them broke the washing machine's spin censor because they wanted to see what what it looked like inside while the clothes were spinning and the only way to keep it spinning while the lid is up is to wreck the wiring. Now I have to clip the wires together and keep checking it in case it switch isn't tripped while in a cycle. I don't ask why. That's the cardinal rule when you have children with ADHD. There is no why. You'll only keep some response like- Because I like to. Because I wanted to. Because Jessie the Chipmunk said it was fun.

With three teens and ADHD in the mix, the house goes from 0 to crazyville in 2.3 seconds. It honestly wasn't this bad before I started home schooling. Probably because they weren't HERE all day. Even so, they've stepped up the madness. I don't think home schooling is going to work for us, today I saw a school bus and wondered if I'd get arrested if I ran and out there and pushed them all onto to it.

What's even more sad is the fact that LiL' J asked me yesterday, "Can we adopt them out? I come home and they are always so loud and rude. I'd miss them though." A six year old said that!

As a new home schooler, this being my second year, I can't figure out for the life of me how those four families home school. Yes, they even HOME SCHOOL. Can you imagine? Someone please tell them, for the love of God, how they do that. I'll be darned if I can get THREE children, whom are only in two different grades, to do their lessons, bookwork, or even sit through a fun educational show without acting like monkeys on crack. Animal Control. Animal Control anyone?

Now, I'm not naive, I imagine that most of the kids on those shows were behaving exceptionally nice. I know how fast little angels grow fangs. But I really want to know how that works. Yesterday it took my sixteen year old five hours to do one simple vocabulary assignment.

Five hours! Nevermind math, science, literature, electives, history, he can take five hours to do any one of those. He's going to be on the five year graduation plan and that's if he seriously gets a clue soon and smartens up enough to start working hard and setting goals.

They act like loons all day, interrupt me, talk over me, bother the dog, bother each other, eat everything in sight, do God knows what with the toilet paper, (I'm hiding a roll in my closet for safe keeping else I might have to use a sock) insult each other, giggle over retarded things, scream and argue about everything, attack each other like their in the WWF, slop through assignments, you name it, they do it. I think we're ALL going stir crazy.

I feel like I dine on a soup bowl full of explosives many days. My children could probably take out the terrorists of the world. If they ever got enough motivation. I feel like most days, they are happy to learn nothing new at all, they're happy with mediocre efforts, they're happy with the thought of future lives of burger flipping and working as elementary school janitors. I'm tempted to have them begin memorizing, "Would you like fries with that?"

I'll admit, I'm getting a little downtrodden lately a little? yesterday I hit myself in the head with my cellphone and a tad pessimistic about the future. As a Christian, I do trust God. I know their in His in care, which is a very good thing, because with the looks of things, I'm getting a C-.

Nothing seems to motivate them. You'd think that promises of Driver's Education and cellphones would inspire a little effort. Nope. You'd think rewards of movies, dinners out, sleepovers, phone priveledges, oh I don't know, AIR, would do the trick.

Nada.

Most of the day I feel like hardly anything is getting done and certainly not enough to feel like there's continuity in their studying. One minute they act like they abhor each other and the next minute they are so overly silly and obnoxious with each other, it's scary. It's manic around here.

Here's a sample of what I hear all day, every day, of every day of the week:

Why do I have to know this?
I don't want to
I'm hungry
I can't remember
I don't know
Do I have to?
Can't I just take the test? I know this stuff. What's the point of studying
I'm hungry
I did study (for two minutes)
Where's my pencil?
Can I have something to eat? I'm hungry
Tell him/her to give me back my pencil!!!
I'm hungry
She took my...
Tell him to give me back my folder
Why can't I check my email?
Do I have to sit next to her?
She's touching me with her nasty feet
Ew, his ogre feet are on me
Who stinks?
Tell her to stop singing
Where's my book?
I'm hungry
Did you see my book?
Why do I have to do that?
I don't care about this
She's touching the dog
He threw something at me
I'm hungry

Blah, Blah, Blah

Remember- these children are all over four. And in case you're wondering who keeps saying they're hungry, that's Snoo. Snoo is ALWAYS hungry. She must have a tapeworm. We've nicknamed him Little Fred. The doctor suggested we have her thyroid checked or take her to a shrink. "It sounds like it's an obsession. She does have a history with being obsessive. Take her to see someone."

We've done all that. The kid likes to eat. She always has. At seven seven months old she ate a whole pack of Ritz crackers all at once.

I truly hit a low last friday after they were talking over me, interrupting, bickering, and being plain loud and obnoxious during a Bible study. I locked myself in the bathroom and proceded to listen to Jesus Help Me to Stand by Alison Krauss about twenty-five times while I brushed my hair and put on make-up. Maybe they weren't going to get any work done, maybe they were going to give me a splitting headache, but I was going to look hot before I went down.

They called The Husband to tell him something was wrong with me. Which he already knows.

"She locked herself in the bathroom and she's singing really loud. To herself. It's scaring us." Richard called on my cellphone and asked, "Honey, are you OK? Have you totally lost it now? What are you doing and do I need to come home?"

"Don't you love me?"

"What kind of question is that. You know I do."

"Then why do you keep leaving me alone with them all day.

Just another day in the life of a mother of children with neurological imbalances. Nevermind Calgon, send the national guards to take me away. First, though, can they watch my kids so I can take a shower? If I go upstairs they might try and take the oven apart.

Why I Hate the Phone

When you're a mother of a child with ADHD everything about being their mom becomes that much more complicated and magnified. It's barely into the school year already and I'm being stalked by the teachers. They love to jot down little notes that say things like, "It's a pleasure to have Snoo in the class this year. I'd like to get to know her better as she'll be the featured student of the week soon. Does she have any other interests besides chasing her neighbor with scissors and dumping plant water down the radiator?"All of this is written down on adorable note cards with apple border and friendly looking cartoon children. It's a nice touch. I've been working every night this week at the service desk and missed the conferences. Normally I would have the familiar twinge of mommy guilt; however, I try to make a point to miss her conferences. I prefer to go for conferences when the school is empty and I’m under the cover of dark and big hats. It cuts down on embarrassing and awkward meetings with other parents. Like the time I volunteered for a parent’s potluck and ended up chopping onions with a woman whose son rode Snoo's bus. She was one of those psycho PTA moms.

After chopping onions and getting brats ready for the potluck she finally asked me who my child was. Her child was in the 5th grade and Snoo was in 1st. (She was held back at the end of the year.) Her face got strangely grim and she began to give me the third degree.

“Your daughter was the one who stabbed my son!!!!!!!!!!?”

Oh dear God. Please, make me a bird so I can fly, far far away. Run, Melissa, Run.

“She's always annoying him on the bus. She bothers him. She makes up stupid songs about him and tells the kids she's going to marry him when she grows up. She pokes him. I've complained to the driver all year. When he finally told her to get lost she stabbed him in the p*nis with her pencil!”

Trying to compose myself, I respond with, “Oh. That was your son? I am so sorry. I don't know what to say. I have no idea why in the world she did that. I never advocate violence or poking another’s private with pencils. (Did I just say that?) I have no idea what possessed her to do such a thing.”

I suppose for integrity purposes, I need to back up a minute to a time during my own childhood. I haven't shared this with Snoo because I have to maintain the illusion that I was a perfect child. What I didn't tell this mom is that back in the 5th grade the class clown was seated in the back all by his lonesome where the pencil sharpener was. He was always getting in trouble and he was the typical loud, bossy trouble-maker who knocked you into walls and took your Twinkie. One day after he had bumped my arm one too many times while I tried to sharpen my pencil I used my kung-fu moves and stabbed him in the arm. He had to get a tetanus shot and his parent’s threatened to sue my mom for the medical bills. My mom told him he got what he deserved and after that the boy thought I was a rock star. It wouldn’t have mattered anyhow, they would have gotten nothing since I don’t think we even had any furniture at the time and the contents of the fridge amounted to one jar of pickle juice.

Back to this irate woman, “Did you know that he had to go get a tetanus shot for that? He was so embarrassed. She stabbed him in the penis for Christ sakes! What kind of little girl does that?”Well, a very angry one. Like duh. But I didn’t say that. She was literally holding a knife.

(Gulp) “She said your son was always mean to her and called her names.”“Your daughter is a brat and I can't believe a little girl could do such a thing. How are you raising that child? And I never heard anything from you. You don't have the decency to contact me to apologize.”“I don't know what to say, I am so sorry.

I’m thinking, what was supposed to do to do, call you up and ask how are your son’s crotch is feeling? They don't make hallmark cards for, “I’m sorry my child is prone to impulsive fits of anger and stabbed your mouthy son in the crotch.”

Our Snoo is as pretty and sweet as the next girl. Sometime she just acts like the terminator. I don’t understand it. I don’t condone it. I have taught her differently. We’re as confused as every one else. At least we know our girl can kick some butt if she has to. We just need to keep her away from sharp objects.

I wanted to go hide in the janitor’s closet and cry and it wasn't because of the onions.

Now, it's that time again for parent socials, open houses and conferences. This year’s teacher is very big on being organized, checking schoolwork and assignment notebooks which are all things an ADHD child needs. The problem is, she’s cold. My kid needs a teacher that can be warm and affectionate.

Her resource teacher picked this teacher for Snoo thinking she'd be good for her. Snoo doesn't like her at all and declared the teacher was mean before she ever met her. But anyone who tells her no or makes her do something she doesn’t want to is mean. This is a child that when sticking her head out the window, will bite the blinds because she’s mad at them for poking her in face.

The teacher didn't bother to read Snoo's IEP before school started. Now, I have a word of advice to teachers. If you have a student with an IEP there's probably a reason why. You might want to check the forms beforehand. It's especially helpful when you have a child whose butt is allergic to chairs and has in the past been known to wrap jump ropes around other children’s necks. That's something you might want to be prepared for. I’m just saying.

If the teacher had read the IEP, she would have known that she can't put a distractible child with unpredictable behavior and poor impulse control in the back of the class. Not a good thing. No, in fact, that’s actually quite stupid.

The teacher jotted down the following:

I'm making Snoo stay in during recess to complete unfinished class work since she works slow and gets off task. Snoo's missing details, not paying attention to directions, working too slow, forgetting things she's learned, forgetting her folder, books, assignment notebooks and so forth. An early intervention is desired.

That's a short list considering her extreme range of ADHD. She's lucky she's not sitting upside flinging her feet into the air while simultaneously spitting apple skins at people. She did this in first grade. I've always taught my children it's polite to share. I always work closely to manage the symptoms and undesirable behaviors of her ADHD, but work with me here. The teacher needs to follow the IEP or it doesn't work. Snoo will always need resource help no doubt, not only for weak subjects but for life management. The child would spend three hours on homework and then forget to turn it in because she forgot she even had a folder.

( No, I did not do drugs while I was pregnant. But if you're offering...)

The most asinine part is that she's holding her in during recess. Keeping a child indoors who has hyperactivity indicates a person has a poor common sense processor. I heard they sell those at drugstores these days. Next to the aspirin. If the constant notes and calls aren't fun enough, Snoo's been a little snot lately. It's difficult to tell sometimes how much of a connection you make with her. After seeing a lot of pediatricians they diagnosed her with three kinds of PMS. Psychotic Mood Shift, Pissy Mood Syndrome and Pardon My Sobbing. They're working on a genetic screening as we speak.

She’s often behaves erratically and then cries she's lonely and has no friends. It breaks my heart as a mom, but she doesn’t seem to be able listen. She's got a whole different world going on in her mind and it's not in this galaxy. I just love her anyways and stay on birth control. I think this is why God made most children adorable. Otherwise when we realize everything that’s involved with parenting, and feel totally unequipped, we might try and drop them off on someone else which would make them nothing more than pets.

Instead, we dig out their baby pictures and pretend days like this never happen.

I'm armed with a plan of action this year though. It's called Concerta. Thank God for medication re-checks. Both hers and mind.

No matter what, she’s my girl and I love her and instead of dwelling on the fact that she almot burnt the house down, I instead focus on her hearty giggle and contagious smile. She’s come a long way from the days when she didn’t even speak clearly. Now, we can’t get her to stop talking which is an understable complaint of her teachers. I don’t blame them, but what’s a mom to do? I do my best and spend a lot of time praying I don’t put them into therapy for the rest of their lives.

That’s all a mom can do. That and I get an answering machine.