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« First Thanksgiving and November Update | Main | You Should Not Have Said The Word "Impossible" »

January 09, 2011


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Sending you big, big hugs.


Ugh hugs to you. I would like to tell you it should get better but who knows. I am just sorry you are having to live this reality.

Amy Ivey

I'm definitely in the trenches with are not alone, my Friend!!!

Jennifer Taubenheim

I am currently in the same boat as you, but with a 13-year-old boy. All of the daily reminders that he doesn't care are hard enough, but two weeks ago was the worst. We walked into Barnes and Noble to kill some time before going to counseling. He asked if I would buy him one of the overpriced snacks they have there. I told him that we would be having dinner after counseling. He began to scream at me that I never buy him anything. I tried to guide him out of the store. He fell on the floor screaming at me to let go of him, to leave him alone, and that I was not his mother. Everyone in the store was staring. He broke away from me sobbing and ran through the mall, out a different exit, and over to Best Buy. By the time I got there, he was hiding behind a worker there sobbing that I was not his mother and that I had hurt him. The worker was on his cell phone with the police. He would not even make eye contact with me. My child was taken to the back and I was not allowed to speak to him until the policeman had talked with both of us. Then I had to sit through the cop's attempt at counseling my child, telling him things I have told him a million times before. Then the policeman asked my child if he was ready to go with us to counseling. When my child said no, the policeman offered to take my child in his police car to the counseling session, but said that he would then have to go home with us. I had a big problem with rewarding his behavior with a ride in a police car, but said nothing. Everyone in the store watched as I left in my car and my child left with the policeman. I can only imagine what they were thinking. The counselor was not much help either, but I won't go into that whole story. Sometimes I wonder if what I am doing makes a bit of difference. Besides making me sick with stress and worry, that is. Have I mentioned that I have a Masters Degree in special education with an emphasis on behavior disorders? There is a big difference between reading about these things and teaching kids with these issues, not to mention trying to raise one as a member of your family. I feel for you because I am in the same place.


Oh, Jennifer. My heart breaks for you & aches with understanding & races with fear of what's to come for us. This is so scary & I completely 100% understand every single thing you have written. I know that doesn't make any REAL difference, but I also know that hearing from someone who 'gets' me is amazingly comforting.

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