Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Thanks for the lurve on the last post, y'all. Since Hubs has been working from home, I've had more time to work on things that make me happy, and it makes all the difference in my attitude. That, and I've adjusted my sleep schedule so that I am not awake the whole time Huck is awake and asleep when he's asleep -- a three hour shift forward (I'm a nightowl, I can easily stay up all night long) that has me in bed from 4 am till 10ish is giving me the alone time I've been lacking. And it turns out that, with a Hub and a Huck around all day, every day, I go a little nuts.

Between the Wonder Pets, Diego, Aqua Teen Hunger Force, and Futurama, I sometimes find my grip slip sliding away.

On therapist news: Yay! We love her! I'm sure there's a time and a place for open ended, patient directed, stream of conciousness type therapy... Not so much for us. We needs us some freaking help. New Therapist asked questions, wanted to know about his behaviors, listened, and gave us feedback. And we talked the entire time we were scheduled. Such a relief compared to Old Therapist, the one we were told had a relationship with Huckle but didn't, who talked to us for ten minutes, played with Huckster for 15, then scooted us out the door saying, "We've got Mommy issues, I see," even though we'd blocked an hour and a half of time.

New Therapist made some guesses as to diagnoses, and even though labels don't change our boy, I'm so glad to have her opinion, even at such an early stage. Something I've found with professionals during the last few months is how accusing they can come across, from Old Therapist who kept saying, "And what do you do about that?" in a smarmy way, to the doctor's receptionist who lectured me about how I can't expect to keep taking advantage of the state's free health insurance if I can't even notice that I've brought last month's card, which expired the day before, and that I'd better get down to, "You know, where you signed up for welfare," before she'll let Huck see the GP.*

Whew, got a little angry typing that... Enough digression. New Therapist is comforting, engaged, and seems to have an attitude of "It is what it is" which I greatly appreciate. I seem to be surrounded by judgemental people wherever I go with Huck, Old Therapist included, and New Therapist just... accepts. And wants to help. And that's awesome.

* So the receptionist reeeeally pissed me off. I said something like, "There are many reasons why people are on assistance programs, and many different assistance programs, and even though you seem to think you know what my son's situation is, I assure you that there is no need to speak to anyone with that attitude, whether they are on welfare or not." (I can get very formal and clipped and proper when upset) Then I "accidentally" nudged my new fancy purse over the half wall between me and her desk, and looked aghast when it landed on her desk and spilled her bottled water all over her lap. (I also get really bitchy and have good aim when I'm upset.)


Amanda said...

Yikes, what an a$$munch of a receptionist. You know, I normally don't condone passive-aggressive but when it's done right (as in your case) it can be a beautiful thing. ;)

I'm so glad you now have an understanding therapist. They can make all the difference in the world.

Yondalla said...

When I get pissed, at least sometimes, I have this professorial intimidating tone that comes out of my mouth that even I find surprising.

But it makes the asses of the world shut up.

CA Momma said...

Yessss!!!!! Get that receptobeawch!!!! I HATE it when they are so condescending.

Gawdessness said...

Glad to hear about the new therapist.
We had one really icky experience with a crappy therapist and ran screaming.

Bacchus said...

I hope this new therapist keeps being a great help.

I have that attitude with people who piss me off. Evidently I have physical clues that tip off right before I go. Now Hubby starts laughing and looks at the person knowing what they are in for.

Amanda said...

hahahahahaah. I love what you did to the receptionist. I may have to use that trick next time I'm at the WIC office. They treat parents who are trying to help their children and give them a good start like they are trash under their feet.

Last time I was there a Hispanic couple was clearly having trouble with the phrase "income verification" and of course, the receptionist just kept saying it louder and louder. I finally had to bust in and tell her that it didn't matter how loud she spoke if they didn't speak English.

Her response? She looked at them and she "Where is your check-o?" I kid you not.