Someone recently asked me whether I�d done any entries regarding the nature of my kiddo�s behavior problems. I actually haven�t written much about them, nor ranted much about specific behavioral episodes, for a reason. Namely that I have become, over all these years of raising a kid whose behavior generally ranges from bad to abominable, extremely thin-skinned and sensitive to the criticism and advice that totally unqualified people seem all too eager to share, and I�m afraid that writing or venting about my problems with her would only encourage the helpful ignorant to share their dubious wisdom; and that would serve only to piss me right the hell off.

The only people I want parenting advice from is people who have actually walked in similar shoes, you know? I�d be willing to bet money that ANY of the advice the parents of �regular kids� could offer has already been tried with my kiddo and failed. I�m not a stupid woman... I read, I�ve consulted both professionals and parents of difficult kids, and my parenting instincts are generally good, according to most knowledgeable people who I�ve run my methods and ideas past. I�ve just got a murderously difficult kid on my hands. I�m not perfect, sometimes I even think I�m not all that great. But I love her, and I�ve done my best, and when that wasn�t good enough I got help; and while that seems to be a nearly foolproof formula for parenting success for many, it hasn�t been for me. We�ve got, to put it mildly, ISSUES here.

So with that out of the way, here�s the basics on the Evil Childe...

She was diagnosed ADHD at the age of four. She wasn�t a particularly difficult baby except that she wanted to be in motion ALL the time when she wasn�t sleeping. But we dealt with it... between the snuggly-carrier and the baby swing and the bouncy seat that hung from the doorframe, she stayed pretty content; and once she could walk, she kept herself pretty well entertained exploring the baby-proofed parameters.

In retrospect, I�m sure that the way she remembers it is that she�d be going along minding her own business, sticking bobby pins into the electrical outlets, when suddenly this angry big person would swoop down from above and beat her little ass for NO REASON AT ALL. She�d cry and cry, right up to the point that she found another bobby pin and then she�d forget all about her sore bottom in her haste to toddle back over to the electrical outlet from which she'd been so rudely snatched just minutes before.

She was destructive, into everything and had to be watched every second. When we�d tell her to do something, or not do something, it was like we�d never spoken. She did whatever she pleased anyway. When thwarted, she�d scream and fight and argue. She was aggressive and would often hit other kids, and sometimes adults. She was rude and defiant, prone to backtalk and stick out her tongue at anyone who tried to talk to her or, god forbid, correct her. At the store, she�d run away from me and pull things off of shelves and climb up the displays and swing from the clothing racks. If I tried to make her stay with me, she screamed and fought and struggled so hard and so long that I couldn�t do my shopping. Leaving her at home was the best option, but seeing as how her dad wasn�t around much due to work and extended-family obligations, I didn�t get out of the house much. The only person who could stand to watch her on a semi-regular basis was Dick�s mom, who�d take her overnight every few weeks so Dick and I could have a break. (During the worst years of her toddlerhood, members of my family weren�t around very much for a variety of reasons, but my dad and grandmother did sometimes take her when they were around.)

Her behavior problems continued on into her early school years, at which time we discovered that she also seriously lacked social skills. If she wanted to be someone�s friend, she would physically attach herself to them like a leech in spite of their obvious discomfort, and would persist until they finally got angry. It�s like she couldn�t recognize when she was making someone else angry, nor realize that her way of attempting to make friends was rarely successful.

Even though she was tested at a young age and found to be above-average in intelligence, she simply could not be reasoned with. She wanted to do what she wanted to do regardless of the consequences. I literally felt like I was talking to a brick wall for years. When she hit the age of 13 or so, I was tremendously relieved and pleased to realize she finally was starting to be able to listen, and to see the sense in what I�d said. That small gain was offset, however, by a newfound ability to argue like Billy Flynn. My way might make sense... but see, here�s this other way that makes MORE sense, and if I weren�t so bent on ruining her life by doing what�s best for her, maybe I�d be more reasonable and could understand her side!

She recognizes no one as having authority over her, in spite of having been shown the erroneousness of that conclusion time and again. She�s flown defiantly in the face of teachers, school administration, parents, and various relatives. (When she was 11, she called a lawyer to find out if her stepmom, with whom she was living at the time, was legally allowed to boss her around.)

She�s always felt herself to be above the rules... as a kid, and sometimes even now, one of her favorite things to do when out in public is to go where the public is not allowed... behind the reception desk, on the other side of the counter, into rooms marked �Employees Only.�

She does not take criticism well at all, nor any kind of instruction, however kindly and gently offered; for suggesting she might want to try a different way of doing something is IMPLIED criticism, don�t ya know. Despite any and all evidence to the contrary, she believes she was placed on this earth knowing everything there is to know and if you suggest or demonstrate otherwise, well then, you are just WRONG. (And a jerkface!)

Her emotional intensity and mood swings have always been a problem for her. When she�s happy, she bounces off the wall, talks and laughs loudly and incessantly, jokes and teases inappropriately and well past the point of angering her quarry. When she herself is angry, she screams and throws things and sometimes runs off. When she�s sad, she cries and cries. She sometimes goes through all of these extremes in a single evening.

Her official diagnosis is ADHD, OCD and Tourette�s syndrome. She�s also been diagnosed as bipolar but there is some disagreement about this. She definitely has had depressive episodes, but the few symptoms she has that could be considered mania could also be attributable to ADHD.

She�s been on many meds over the years, but none have seemed to help her much, except for Luvox which helped with her OCD symptoms. She�s not on it now at her own request, but I�m trying to talk her into going back on it. She�s also been through many psychiatrists and psychologists, but I don�t feel like she�s been helped very much by that, either. We are going to give it another try, though. Her irritability and mood swings have gone through the roof lately.

She�s been in a special high school for kids with behavior and emotional disorders since last November. I was very hesitant at first about putting her in this program, but it has turned out to be a godsend. They are very, very structured and absolutely consistent about their rules, and after a couple of months of rebelling she discovered it was much easier and more pleasant to behave herself and earn privileges than not. (And yeah, I always KNEW she needed consistency, and if I hadn�t known, there were quite a few geniuses in my life who felt obliged to inform me of this and would be quite gleeful in saying �I told you so� if they were reading this. To them I say, yeah, I could have been absolutely consistent with her too if I had a trained staff and six hours a day in which I had nothing to do but focus on discipline and an eighteen hour break every day and weekends off. Cinch.)

The fact that she met a boy the day before she started the special school also has a lot to do with her sudden epiphany. Screwing up means she can be kept after all the way up until 6 o�clock in the evening, which seriously cuts into her time with The Boy. (Losing time with him is the ONLY privilege-removal threat that has ever motivated her. Ever. And believe me, we tried everything!)

Of course, it�s not all bad news, all the time. The kid is smart and she has a fabulous sense of humor. She�s fiercely loyal to her friends and will do anything to help if someone has a problem. She has a lot of self-respect, and stands up for her personal convictions. She doesn�t smoke, drink, do drugs, shoplift, or cut school (much to my amazement and relief, considering my sordid teenage history.) She�s well coordinated and I think she could done well at sports if her other problems hadn�t interfered with her being able to play well on a team. She has a knack for writing... she�s kept a journal ever since she first learned how to write, and she likes to write poetry as well. And as long as I don�t overdo it, she�s good about helping me out around the house when I ask, too.

So that�s it in a rather large, unwieldy nutshell. Someday I�m going to put all these �background entries� about my family under one link entitled �Why I�m So Fucked Up.� Yeah, like the kid won�t someday have MY face on a book with that title.

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Crappy job crap, weird neighbor, and someone whose baby I apparently want to have - 2006-05-08
Live from the dump - 2006-04-09
Kind of like a muzzle for your brain - 2006-03-29
...and then she fell ass-first into my cereal bowl - 2006-03-28
Playing catch-up - 2006-03-27

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