My son entered residential just after Christmas at age nine. For two years prior he was daily making any semblance of normalcy at home impossible. We were living in a constant state of chaos and crisis, often cycling our son through psychiatric hospitalizations and crisis calls. All safety measures we attempted were viewed by my son as challenges which he paid no heed to. We had no means of keeping him, our pets, our home, our other children, or ourselves safe. Creative means of homicide was the daily driving force in his mind. Continue reading “Residential Parenting Blues”
Eleven year ago I found out I was expecting, and while surprised, this baby was a welcome blessing. I took every measure as an expectant mom to make sure he was given the best environment to grow and develop in.
At the same time I was finding out this news, unbeknownst to me, another baby boy had just been born. However, this baby boy was the fourth child born cocaine and alcohol exposed to a mother who had no intention of parenting him. He had no warm welcome into this world. He had no stable environment and no one to attach to. Continue reading “A Tale of Two Sons”