Fighting for Answers | Tag Archives: attitudeattitude Archives

An attitude for breakfast?

Full on attitude from David this morning. He sees his potential placement in a residential facility as a badge of honor. I wish that he could understand how hard he is on the rest of the family. Especially when he talks about how much he can’t wait to go to residential because they will let him do things that we can’t. Frustrating to his mother and I. While it is a relief to the family stress level that he is in a center, it is never a happy time. We make the best of the situation because that is what is best for David. Doesn’t mean that we like it. This mornings attitude was brought to us by “I didn’t get enough cereal for breakfast and don’t want to ask for more.” He makes excuses for his behavior. “I didn’t have any more milk, so I couldn’t ask for more

wishes and dreams

I dream of a time when we don’t have to worry about him as much as we do. Granted as a parent, part of us will always worry about our kids, but when you have a child like David, it is increased ten fold, a hundred fold. Today he came home from the mental health unit. We didn’t even get out of the hospital before he was starting with behavior. Playing with the elevator, not listening, moving things around that were on a shelf. You know, child like behavior, and in some cases behavior of typical teen. I get it, I do. But considering where we had just come from, one would think that he would be on his very best behavior. I made a quick stop to pick up a part, and instructed him to not touch anything while I was in the store. Came out to find he

I’ll beat you with this shovel

Heck of a title for this post. Last evening, my son stormed out of the house in anger. I waited about 20 minutes before going after him. I thought it would give him time to cool down. Not to be. He started throwing things out of the cars, so I worked my way through them to lock the doors and make sure things were where they were supposed to be. As I got to the last one, he began threatening me. He had a basketball that he kept throwing down the street, so I took it and put it in the garage. He went and got it. So, I am ashamed to admit, I deflated the ball. I didn’t acknowledge him in any way during this period. I was working on moving a vintage sewing machine into our house, when he grabbed a shovel and threatened to beat me with