I have a houseful of people this weekend. Stephanie is home for the first time since she traveled with us to meet Dora two months ago. Steph is accompanied by her boyfriend, Sean. Kyle and Marie are home as well. We are celebrating Beth’s 11th birthday a few days early.


I have been cooking for several days straight: two batches of Oreo Ice Cream dessert, homemade Chex snack mix (Kyle loves it hot from the oven), homemade trail mix, corn casserole, potato casserole, two large loaves of homemade sourdough bread, angel food cake dessert, Jello salad; ham and egg casserole, French toast and cherry coffeecake for breakfast (plus a pound of bacon) … Tonight we had the famous pork on the grill … a dish I can never prepare without thinking about Amy. It was/is one of her favorite foods. But when I think about that, I also remember that it wasn’t favorite enough to motivate her to get a job and get out from under a peanut butter diet. It is impossible to separate one memory from the other, much as I wish I could.


Tonight my family celebrated the joy in our lives otherwise known as Beth. The card we bought her said something to that effect … Because you are our daughter we have a dirtier bathroom, a busier phone and more joy than we could ever have had without you. From the corner of my eye, I watched Dora watch Beth’s birthday celebration unfold. Dora has handled herself reasonably well this weekend, but not without incident. More on that later. Therapy yesterday went quite well and more on that will follow as well.


The comments on my last post have really resurrected some of my own memories of slogging through endless days with Amy and wondering if I was ever going to make it to the end. I contemplate those comments at the same time that I am preparing food that reminds me of Amy … and I still wrestle with trying to make sense of it all.


One reader says:

Do you really believe the tide has turned with Beth, and can turn with Dora? It seems as though every time we seem to gain a little ground and I experience hope, it is just to have it dashed again. It is an exhausting cycle that I am unsure I can keep up.

Another reader comments:

If I had another option as far as her living arrangement, I would exercise it. I'm hoping someone out there can offer some suggestions as to how to handle a child who clearly doesn't want to be a part of our family and does everything in her power to bring us down.

How much abuse do we need to subject ourselves to before we can change the family dynamic for the better? I need a game plan and I need it NOW.

I can’t tell you how much I wish I had some advice that would really help you in the here and now. I know—all too well—how desperate I was for that exact same advice when I was convinced I would never make it out from under. I can remember when Amy was 8 or 9 wondering how I was going to survive another decade. I can remember when she was in her teens and I knew we were closer to the end, but the end seemed impossibly far away. Had we not been in the duplexes, I never would have made it one day past Amy’s 18th birthday. And no matter how many naysayers post “you didn’t parent her right” comments or “you tried to make her into something she can’t be” criticisms, I know better. My family was not the problem … and eventually the problem moved out. Do I still wish we could enjoy pork together? I sure do … but enjoy is the key word here.


Photo Credit--Steph and Beth horsing around with Beth's swim gear earlier today