Fighting for Answers | Category Archives: Reactive Attachment Disorder | Page 5Reactive Attachment Disorder Archives - Page 5 of 90

the next few days are going to be fun!

Well, big sister stopped by with a friend for a couple of minutes. They didn’t stay long, as David was in tantrum mode. You see, mom got the bandages removed today, and we just can’t have someone else get more attention than he is getting. So big sister and friend turned around and left. I don’t blame them, if I had a chance to get away for a bit, I would do so. What kicked off the tantrum? I asked him to clean up his toys and junk in the living room. Since other people’s stuff was in the area, he reverted to the stand by argument that “I am not supposed to touch stuff that doesn’t belong to me.” In reality, he is correct, isn’t he? But… As I walked away he made some inane comments. About what I have no idea, and it doesn’t really matter. So since

Visited David tonight

Visited David today. He changed his story about my weed eater 3 times. So now we have a possible location for it. He got mom so frustrated that she moved away from the table. Everything is blamed on some one else. His forging of the check happened because we don’t give him an allowance. Never mind that he doesn’t do anything to earn an allowance. His theft of some items is because we don’t give him any money. Some neighbor game him 50 dollars to purchase a spark plug, and a spark plug tool. I asked about the remaining funds, and he said that the spark plug cost all of the money to buy. We also learned of some of the places that are easy to steal from. So I will be stopping at those stores tomorrow and talking with the owners. I told David that it is his destiny

Honest emotion

I cried today. I cried while mowing my lawn. Mowing gives you time to think. The drone of the mower is perfect for masking thoughts, for allowing them a fertile breeding ground. I cried for David. For the little boy who wants so desperately to be loved, yet pushes away and punishes those who love him most, his family. I cried for the hope that is diminishing a little each day. A hope that he will see that what he is doing is wrong, and the way he treats people is wrong. I cried out in prayer. Something that I do everyday. Pray. Does God hear my prayers? I believe that he does. I believe that David was brought into our lives for a reason. Ours is not to question why. Yet we struggle daily with his behaviors, his attitude, the words he says, the things he does. We struggle.