I don't know why, but I've been craving ice cream lately....

You Are Strawberry Ice Cream

A bit shy and sensitive, you are sweet to the core. You often find yourself on the outside looking in. Insightful and pensive, you really understand how the world works. You are most compatible with chocolate chip ice cream.

What??? Where's the chocolate??? I demand a recount...

Have a great weekend, everyone! The family and I are taking one more quick weekend trip to Mom and Papa's beach cottage to help them close it up for the winter.

Cheers! ~MacKenzie

Awww, C'mon... SMILE!!! They weren't THAT bad!!!
Cheers! ~MacKenzie

I was really hoping that I would have a few more clear ideas of where I want to go here in the present. I hope this little project isn't a waste of time. I'm ready to conclude my little meanderings.

So, is life a circle? At one point in time, do you look back and see that somewhere in your life you've walked in 360 degrees? I was only in my mid-twenties when that happened. Honey and I had made some serious financial mistakes. Rather than believing that life is a chess game with calculated moves, we played paint ball instead and just shot off into the dark. If we hit the target good, if not, we just moved on elsewhere. Our marriage was messy, too. We weren't working as a team, we rarely saw each other, we just did things stupidly. Finally we sought out financial advice from Honey's parents. But I think they saw the WHOLE picture, too.

A few weeks later, they were in Bangor to visit us and strange as it seemed, two positions in their houses opened up. If we wanted it, they were ours. Within a month we had moved into my mom's empty house, our VERY fixer upper house in Bangor had a tenant who wanted to assume our mortgage for us, we were working the same over night shift so we actually SAW each other, talked to each other, made plans to do things again with each other, communicated with each other.

I almost felt like I was 16 again, only wiser, which was a good thing. I was back working in the women's house that I originally started in. I already had a good working relationship with three of the women there, and that gave me a real edge in learning how to assist the newest household memeber who had moved in less than a year before. I loved it. I've always been a night owl myself, so I was just having a grand time, even though I was starting to have a few problems with my back.

Eventually, Honey found the opportunity to work at the agency's day program and within the year, I followed him. For awhile, I put my activities certificate to real work and had a blast. It wasn't work, it was fun. I also had the opportunity to get extra hours by working at the third house that the agency started. I discovered that doing some of the activities there was one thing, but the direct care aspect at that point in my life was another. To be blunt, bathing a ten year old boy in my mind was completely different than assisting a full grown man in the shower. One of the men took great delight in ... surprising the female staff. He thought it was the funniest thing. I admit, I prefered to work with women; I felt more of a connection, more of an understanding with them. If things turned negative, it was easier to go through the situation with a woman than a man. A woman yelling, possibly hitting me was just easier to me than having a man do it. We all have our quirks... Fate stepped in on that one, though as before I could really make a decision to work as an aide at that house, Honey and I learned I was pregnant. I ended up stepping out of direct care and into the files of paperwork and all the "background" stuff.

I admit, my parents in law were very good to me. In many ways, they structured my jobs to fit what I could or couldn't do. In order for the residences to receive funding, each have to be licensed through the State of Maine according to strict regulations. Paperwork had to be in place, follow-ups had to be followed through on. Medication precautions had to be taken. Staff's daily records needed to be checked to insure they were being done correctly. There had to be good staffing patterns. Menus should insure good quality food with a variety from dietary guidelines. Someone had to take a role of check and balances for the agency. I'm good at organization. I really enjoyed working in quality assurance. Dealing with the staff actually was the most difficult part of the job.

I had to give that up, though when I became pregnant with the twins. I just couldn't be that physical presence that the houses needed. Which was when I started writing those horrible reports that I hated so much... the job that I gave up this past summer to be with the girls more.

That brings us to the now. (yay!) One thing that I have realized, is that I am very, very spoiled. Since last Christmas when I really voiced some concerns to Honey, when I started feeling the walls closing in, when I started in with the panic attacks again, he really stepped up above and beyond and gave me the time I needed to just be for a bit. I've had such a wonderful summer. And he's been working so hard. My little 6 hours of work a week bring hardly anything into the household budget. It's been all him... We're able to make our bills, have a little left over, but it's not enough to save for a house, or take the girls away for a few days, or save for future plans.

Over the past year or two, there's been murmurings that more residential housing is needed here in this area. The agency has been approached more than once with the idea for a children's home. Possibilities were investigated and there's just no funding for that. Honey and Papa have talked about the possibility of Honey and I starting a home. I would have been much more confident of the possibilities with a children's home.

The normal progression once a person gets out of high school is to move out of their parents house and journey down their own road. Over the past 3 years, there have been a few individuals who have transitioned out of high school and into the adult day program. Honey has started a very informal needs assessment to see if this trend is growing and if so, if there in any interest in starting a young adult home. Information never hurts.

I feel very conflicted about the thought. In many ways, I do feel I have the skills needed to oversee a group home. The responsibility, though... wow. You are completely impacting an individual's life. Plus, you have to find the right house. Then you have to furnish the house, then you need to find the right mix of people (very, very, VERYYYYY important here...) to live in the house. You need staff. You need to run in the middle of the night if for some reason the furnace goes out. You need back up plans. You need to hire someone to plow in the winter and keep the walkways clear. Christmas morning you have to be prepared to leave your family and take someone to the ER if there in an emergency. You have to deal with family. You have to deal with State regulations and the fire marshal. If for some reason you don't get your money one week from the State (and it's happened before), you have to find a way to pay your staff. You have to figure out how to read between the lines to find out what's going on when you aren't there. You may be able to go on vacation with the right staff on your side, but guess where you mind will be half the time?? You may be called at 11 pm and told that there's no one to cover the night shift. In that case, you have to go in. It's a tough job. And getting a paycheck can't be the only reason why you do it. Your heart has to be involved, too.

I wish so much I had a crystal ball. I wish so much I could take a peek into the future and at least see if taking further steps is the thing we are supposed to do. It's not as if we wouldn't have anywhere to go for advice. Mom and Papa have years and years of experience. There's probably very few things that they haven't seen. Honey and his brother grew up with it so we know that raising a family and doing this is possible. As Papa said, he wouldn't have mentioned it if he thought we couldn't do it.

When things go well, you can have that time to yourself, and have that short lived sense of security. When things go bad, you have to give so much of yourself to get it back on track. Mom and Papa have a good life, but I've seen their stress, their frustration, the complications, I've seen many good things, and bad things, too. Do I want that? Can I be strong enough? Can I do what needs to be done no matter what? Can I fire a staff person who just isn't working out or look into a parent's eyes and say sorry, but this placement just doesn't seem to be working out? Can I handle a crisis at 2 in the morning? Can I balance house life with family life???

One nice thing about these early stages is one still has a little time to try and figure it out.... ~MacKenzie

My Mom just called. She and Nana want to visit today. Of course I'm not going to say no!!!! But how do I get out what I want to in so little time????



College did have experiences all on its own. For three semesters, I worked/observed/participated in several agencies all within the human service spectrum. When I was taking my activities director courses, I volunteered with an activity director in a nursing home. Loved it. Had great experiences there. I worked in a day program with people (adults) who had MR among other things and had many various experiences, mostly with feelings. Many of these individuals could talk so it really helped me see how similar humans in general are. I KNEW it before, but then I really EXPERIENCED it. I learned so much from them. There was one man there who scared the hell out of me because he was so huge!!! (not to be mean) He really intimidated me. He really taught me that you have to look not on what's on the outside of people, but what's on the inside. I will always be thankful to him for that. For the most part, I stayed in the mental retardation spectrum and I was advised to explore mental health/illness, too. So, I spent a few weeks at a group home that assisted people with mental health issues. I was not even there an hour when a woman came up to me and said right out, "I'm going to fucking kill myself and there's nothing that you or any other god damn staff person here can do about it." I nearly peed my pants. Holy crap... I had NO training in this AT ALL. So there she and I sat, her describing exactly how she was going to accomplish this, staff walking by us, me trying to get their attention and they are just not catching on... My mind was scrambling to sort out all the information, emotions and details that this woman was throwing at me. Finally the Director of the house walked through and my arm shot out and grabbed hers in a death like vise. As calmly as I could, I stated "_____ is making a lot of plans for herself. I really think that someone else should listen." Before I left the director pulled me aside, and said I did a good job and that chances are she targeted me because I was new and she wanted to test me and find my limits. Was I okay? My head was shaking yes, my insides were screaming no. Why? Why couldn't I just say what I was feeling? I don't know... By the time I got home though, I called Honey, who was at work and told him that I needed him, and needed him now. He actually had to leave work and by the time he got to my dorm, I was near hysterics. I did stick out the rest of my time there. After the incident, the woman had absolutely no interest in me whatsoever. It taught me already what I knew instinctively, I'm okay with what MR can throw at me. MH, for me, is a whole other ball park....

So there I was, out of college and I needed a break from everything! That summer was completely filled to the brim what with getting married, having to move twice, adjusting to life in general... I got a job in a little hole in the wall Chinese take out. It was a lot of fun, but by summer's end, I was starting to feel jittery. One Saturday, Honey came home from work to discover my nose buried in the job section of the paper. There in big bold lettering: Wanted- Care provider to work in a children's group home.

I got the job and I have never had a better job than that one. In order to be in the house, the kids all had to have a diagnosis of mental retardation in order for funding and many had other things going on: ADHD, autism, down syndrome, blindness, abuse issues, things along that line. I was never really in the "in" group with the staff there, even though many were my age, but our focuses were just different. They went to bars and parties and I just had never really been one for that. Actually, Honey and I both became work-a-holics. We weren't married to each other; we were married to our jobs.

I had many, many wonderful experiences working with the kids. I became especially close with one of the early teens who was in a wheelchair. She could hold her own weight on her legs, but couldn't walk. When helping her from the chair to toilet or shower, she could grab ahold of a bar and then hold her weight while you helped her with her clothing and then had to pivot her to wherever. She thought it was always the funniest thing to try and wedge your hand between the wheelchair and the wall, to fall to her bum just before you got her to her destination, or to pee on you. I learned quickly to keep an extra set of jeans in the car. She was just being a kid and that's part of how she expressed it. One time, the only thing that saved my finger from being broken by her antics was my wedding ring. After that incident, I sat and had a VERY long talk with her and she eased up on me. She found other ways to tease me instead.... You couldn't play favorites, but, it was hard not to.

One night, it was about maybe 4 in the morning and the other night staff and I, (I worked all shifts... never had a set routine. Sometimes I would work an overnight, get out at 9 and be back into work by 3...) we kept hearing a strange noise. It was the middle of winter and we discovered that one of the little boys was up and was chucking all his toys out the top of the window and into the snow below!!! He was laughing and having a grand time. So she went up to get him to stop and I went out with a laundry basket to get all the toys that I could find. I heard her yell his name before boommm... tonka truck to the side of the head. My goodness, I saw stars spinning all around. And all I could do was just sit there in the snow and laugh and laugh. Whoever thought THAT would be part of the job description.. look out for flying tonka trucks.

I remember when a new resident came to live in the house. He was this beautiful blond headed little boy and I and one other woman was asked to help him get used to the house and routine and such. He was a challenge. Very hyper, flitting from one thing to the next, getting into everything, temper flying at the drop of a hat. He really raised the energy of the house. To get this kid bathed and dressed in the morning took all of your mental strength and wits. So he and I started playing a game. "I bet you can't do that in ___ seconds...." "OH yes I can!!" And so the game would go and then other staff started picking up on it and it started to become the routine. I remember the first time he didn't want me to go. He gave me a hug and begged me not to leave. Things like that made all the time, all the moments you wanted to pull your hair out but couldn't, all the stress, worth it. To be a part of these kids lives, to see them reach a new step, to feel a bond where there was none before... yes, so worth it.

Interestingly enough, I realized last night that throughout my career path, I had compared all of my other behavioral interactions to the one that I mentioned yesterday. Being hit by an 8 year old in a fit of rage was okay compared to the other. Being bit by a 12 year old girl who was going through adolescence, medications were no longer working right, her body changed so rapidly, PMS and all that went with it..... Being bit HURT, but I had been through worse so it somehow was okay. Having a heavy oak kitchen chair thrown at you was scary, yes, but ....

Structuring at the house changed and my hours were really cut down. I went and talked to the director and she offered me the opportunity to work at the children's house as well as the teen house. For some reason, I was more nervous about this one, but I went under the feeling that you never know until you try. Wow. Completely different atmosphere. I started working overnights there. And I was told right up front that the woman I would be working with had a history of mental illness, but she was stable and doing fine. (ARE YOU fricking kidding me??? I thought to myself...) This woman was very gruff and stern and she often talked to herself so at first it was hard to tell if she was expecting me to answer or not. She told me right out about her life and if she started to do this, this or this.. I should call the director. At the same time, she showed me the ropes, she gave me really good advice and tips for working with these 6 teen age girls and I really learned a lot from her. One of the best and worst things about the teen house was that one of the girls was only a year younger than I was. She had severe MR and several severe physical health problems on top of that. I saw her and had to face the fact that that girl could be me. For some unknown reason, I could have been her, but I wasn't. And for whatever reason, I just loved her instantly. Her physical disabilities made it tough to work with her. Her muscle were always stiff and tight and you had to massage her hands to get them to relax from the fist she always made. Most wore gloves because in working with her hands, there was often spit, sweat, sometimes food remains. With her it never bothered me. I think I appreciated the physical touch nearly as much as I perceived, hoped that maybe she did, too.

Her family liked, me, too, thank goodness. Families are tough, and rightfully so. Bottom line is that they usually have the final say and if for some reason you don't agree with it, you have to deal with it and stick to their wishes. Some families coddle their loved ones, some try to have their loved ones live as normal a life as possible, some blur the lines so you never know where they are. Some are over protective, some could absolutely care less. All that I've met do the best they can with what information they've got. Some just interpret that information differently... Many fear they will be replaced in the individual's mind.... Anyway, it was I who often took this girl to her family's events... birthday parties, Christmas, family gatherings, etc. I really got my first glimpse of a family's life when dealing with issues in the MR field.



Oh rats... and there's my mom. And I haven't made my bed yet!!!

Cheers! ~MacKenzie

Well, I have some really big decisions that I have to contend with as plans in my life need to be developed. Maybe in the end, this will all come together, or maybe not! I'm not sure. For the moment, I'm exploring some memories.

I was 16 when I started working in the human service field. I started off working as an aide on weekends at a home that assisted people with disabilities. This was an all woman's home and all the women there had some degree of mental retardation and some had other forms of physical disabilities. Interestingly enough, this home was owned by the agency my parents in law run. Two of the women there could neither hear, nor see, nor speak. I was very fortunate to work with a staff woman who LOVED her job, who did it well, who took pride in what she did. If I had questions, she had answers. From my experiences with her as well as with the women, I soon came to love my job, too.

While in school, I worked as an aide, and in the summers I began taking on a shift by myself. I actually discovered that I preferred NOT to have an aide because the ladies and I had found a rhythm that worked well for us. True, we had a few challenges along the way. One of the women did have some... aggressive behavioral concerns.. that we had to deal with together. She liked me enough that she never used her cane to hit me. The wall right next to me, yes, but me personally, thankfully, no. She is one of those who you stick to the rules with. One falter, and she's gotcha.

In my second summer working with them, ocassionally, the staff from the men's house and I got the two houses together for a picnic at the beach or what not. On the side, the men's house was nick-named the "Bad boy" house, bad meaning the rebellious, rule breaking type. They were tough. Two of them had come out of an institution and had had things happen to them that are just inconceivable. I remember the first time watching one of these men completely loose it and it was so hard, so absolutely heartbreaking. The staff at the time assisted him through the interaction wonderfully and I admit, I was in awe of those staff. This chic was smaller than I was and just walked him through it, talked calmly, gently with him and before you knew it, he was doing okay again. Had I been introduced to the men's house rather than the women's, I don't think I would have lasted.

Before I left for college, the ladies and I had been visiting the men's house and I can recall vividly feeling a prickling on the back of my neck. I turned to see one of the men coming toward me, the look in his eyes, NOT normal and replaced with this hateful, menacing glare. My instinct kicked in before thought and I took a step backwards. The fatal flaw because in that one second, one action, he had complete control of the situation. If I let myself fully back into that moment, I can still feel the exact spot where he punched me and the pain of him knocking my hip into the table. My insides quivering, as I feel it right now. It was a life changing experience. The other staff person who had been on the phone came to the rescue before anything or anyone else could be hurt and took over. When it was all over, the man just went back to what he was doing. It was so hard to try and separate him from the interaction. And I always felt uncomfortable around him after that. I always felt that in the back of his mind, years later, that he still had me... I don't know what I did that he targeted me, I still don't quite understand. He's been gone from the agency for a very long time now and I'll never know. Unfortunately, it's a part of the job and sometimes the unexplainable occurs. I do remember everyone asking me if I was okay and putting up the mask that I was okay. I didn't want others to know how much it affected me, and at the same time, inside I was begging someone to please look beyond the mask, to please just let someone use the right words to comfort me, but it never happened. Maybe THAT'S why I remember it so much.

And, I shied away from the men's house for a very long time. I was more than happy to stay with the women and deal with what they threw at me. That, I could handle.

I went off to college and studied in this field, although, really... College taught me absolutely NOTHING.... You don't learn to deal with people through books. You need that 1:1 contact. The most I got out of college was learning the language of paperwork. I learned more what the different diagnosis meant, if it was coupled with another diagnosis, how the person might act, and so on. Then I learned about how activites was sometimes a great creative outlet for people and I really absorbed that information. I loved the thought of touching a person's creative side and did go through the courses set to become an Activity Director as part of college. THOSE were the most important things I learned from college.

Wow... look at the time. It's already past 9 and I've gotten nothing done yet. I've got to clean up from my lazy weekend and I'm also hoping to make a fall wreath for my door today. I have all the materials, but typing on my blog is NOT the way to get everything else done. I guess I'll have to continue later....



Cheers! ~MacKenzie