Saturday, January 7, 2012

Please, take them!

God bless respite time!  Respite is a lovely gift of free babysitting given to us by the county where we live.  They take Austynn off our hands for several hours during the week and virtually say to Eric and I, "Breathe".

It won't be available forever.  It's limited, and of course with everything in this day and age, dependent on available funding through the county.  The men and women who have given us this blessed time away from our fire bug have seen the desperation in our eyes.  You see, our family is a family in crisis.  Not only do we receive respite from Austynn but now our home crisis therapist is looking into hours for William.  Yes, he's sixteen years old.  One would assume he could stay home by himself.  Not so.  Our trust in him has evaporated into dust.  We could hire costly sitters to watch him but he manipulates.  Somehow he would get around our rules and the sitter.  The best and easiest prospect for our peace of mind would be that he's not home when we're gone.  Oh respite.  Loveliness.

Last night, Austynn told me that he changed his mind and decided he didn't want to go today.  I almost laughed out loud.  Very carefully and with as much patience as I could muster, I gently explained to him that respite wasn't necessarily for him.  Even though it was fun and he did interesting things, respite was also for mom and dad and I had no intention in the world, in the universe, in the galaxy (at that point, I believe I had lost my maternal sensibilities) to ever cancel his day with Miss Gayle...EVER!  Oops.  He looked a little shocked.  Did I mention we're a family in crisis?

A family in crisis.  How do I define us?  Four individuals doing the very best we can without self-destructing on a daily basis.  When we started this little experiment in togetherness, Eric and I thought we had it "goin' on".  The two of us had enough love to fill the United Nations building.  We could manage whomever Family Health and Human Services brought to us.  

Family Vacation 2008
Now, ten years later, a psychiatrist, individual therapists, a home crisis therapist, an occupational therapist, a pending second psychiatric review, special education classes, IEPs (Individual Education Programs), a plethora of behavioral drugs, a history of court misdemeanors, arson, shoplifting, etc., Eric and I are exhausted.  That love, well - it's hanging on.  We still have it but it's wearing thin.  Every time the word, "Bitch" is thrown out or 4-letter words are etched into bathroom cabinets we wonder how much longer can we survive.

God gives us only what we can manage, right?  So I ask You, Lord - how much more?  

 

1 comment:

Upol said...

Its exactly when we feel that we can't take it anymore... somehow we are burdened with more. However, happiness is everywhere if you know how to spot it. Little things... a flower, a smile, a bird singing outside, a phone call, and the will to be happy - miraculously works! Instead of interrogating... try demanding. God listens.