“Raw & True” Sucks

I was a little overwhelmed by the reaction I received to my previous post. I apologize to those who felt deeply disturbed by what I shared. The writing style was a departure for me I suppose – so much more serious and intense than my typical light-hearted look at everyday life. 

Although there is always humor, sometimes my everyday life is not especially light-hearted. On some days I want to curl up in fetal position and sing “Kumbaya” until the spiders are scrambling to escape the closet I am huddled in.

That is the truth. It is probably the truth for many people. I am just willing to talk about it openly and that makes some people very, very uncomfortable.  What I intended to do was make you feel less alone. And I want to encourage you. In the midst of our pain, God is ever present, ever merciful, ever gracious, and most likely crying along with us.  

Life is hard and we are living in hard times. Life for countless people is raw and true and, as my brother commented to me,  ”Raw and true sucks.” Yes, it can suck, no doubt about it. But our experiences are the very stuff that grows us in faith and wisdom. I praise God for that! I want to grow to be more like Him and without challenges it would be impossible to so much as inch my way in that direction.

Some people expressed concern that I publicly exposed my children’s troubles. I know that if some were willing to share that with  me, then a far greater number felt the same way but kept silent. But if  you truly read this blog you will find that this is the first time I have ever shared something about my children that could be considered “negative” (and negative is a relative term). If you recall last year’s Christmas letter, I had each child write their own update so that they could choose what they wanted to share and what they wanted to keep private.

I expose my own weakness on a regular basis because I am comfortable doing that. I do not write about my children without their permission. Both Johnna and Ashley are aware that I blogged about their current situations. These recent events in their lives have unalterably changed our lives. And I believe we are all being changed for the better!

But if, for example, I caught my son (insert name here) parading around his bedroom wearing women’s lingerie while marching enthusiastically to the tune “76 Trombones” (from the Broadway show ”Music Man”) I would not share that in this blog. And just to be clear, it isn’t true (except for that one New Year’s Day in 1989 when the Mummer’s parade was on TV, and oh…that was Attila! Never mind… )   :-}  

***Just so there is no confusion, THIS WAS A JOKE. THIS WAS NOT A TRUE STATEMENT. THIS WAS A MADE-UP EXAMPLE AND MY SAD ATTEMPT AT HUMOR.***

I have made a decision to delete my “Attila Update” email list and start over. After today, I will no longer send an email letting people know that I have updated my blog. This list began many years ago when Attila went through his initial kidney transplant and then had a heart attack, and then had the kidney removed, and then had quadruple bypass, etc. The list was meant to be a quick way to update our prayer warriors. Perhaps, in my own pride, it has become something else. I don’t want that to be the case.

So if you would like to receive an email when an update appears on this blog, please write me at kristinballa@hotmail.com and I will add you to a newly created “Balla Family Update” email list.  

On Friday, Attila and I transferred Ashley from Brooke Glen Behavioral Hospital to Devereux – a residential treatment facility in Malvern. She will live there and attend the high school on campus for the next 3-10 months. I expect she will have a home pass for Christmas (and be able to attend Brent and Tara’s wedding) and will get home passes every weekend from then on.  Home passes are based on behavior and if we can go by her experience at Brooke Glen she will be at the highest “level” in no time at all. She is doing so well and we truly enjoy spending time with her now. She is making great strides and we believe that the things that are happening will help her succeed in her future life. It is her desire to eventually become a Special Education teacher and she can do that if she puts her mind to it. She has the skittles! (for you older farts, that means “skills”). If you feel inclined to mail a note of encouragement to Ashley, feel free to email me and I will send you the address.

JOHNNA PASSED HER DRIVER’S TEST! We are so proud of her. There is a spirit of celebration in the Balla household. Johnna is working on getting a car. Brent owns an old one that she can get repaired with her own funds and then keep. All of us want to see her become as independent as possible, as soon as possible. 

And on one final “oh how adorable” note, our grandson watched Attila put his insulin shot in his leg earlier this week. For the rest of that day Jayden tried to pull up the pant leg (Attila had to help) and then he would hug the leg! Okay, on the count of three…. AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!

302 Is The Loneliest Number

I haven’t blogged in six weeks but I have an excuse. Several excuses in fact. A whole slew of them really. Some of my excuses are real doozies too. Some of them have made me think that the TLC show “Jon & Kate Plus 8″ needs to move on over and make room for the Balla Family on Reality TV! Put a web cam in the Balla house and then we can engage in some REAL competition. We will confirm, once and for all, exactly what chaos really looks like. And as a public service, close-ups will be strictly prohibited since Attila and I are a little older, more war-torn, and less cute than Jon & Kate.

As some of you know (and some might not) our sixteen-year-old daughter Ashley has mental health issues. Since Ashley has never been neglected or abused I believe these issues are part of the genetic wiring she inherited from her birth parents. Two years ago, during the course of a psychiatric evaluation required for her Individualized Education Plan (IEP), Ashley was diagnosed with Depression, Somatization Disorder, Oppositional Defiant Disorder, Learning Disorder and Borderline Personality traits.

Ashley has been seeing a psychiatrist and therapist on and off since she was about eight-years-old. The most difficult behavior to handle on a daily basis is the rage that develops when Ashley doesn’t get exactly what she wants, exactly when she wants it. She has problems with impulse control, skewed perceptions, truancy, cause and effect, aggression, anxiety, severe mood swings, etc. Referring to daily life as a roller coaster would be an understatement of epic proportions.

In the two years we have lived in Parkesburg we have called 911 so many times that the police know us on a first-name basis. Last May Ashley was expelled from Octorara High School for hitting a girl who was apparently spreading false rumors about her. She began attending the STEPS program in the Downingtown Education Center and returned there in the fall – having failed ninth grade (partially due to approximately 50 absences last year).

On November 1st I was in bed with some kind of virus which included full-body aches coupled with an unstoppable fever. Ashley came up to our 3rd floor bedroom to try to talk me into letting her get her hair permed. I may have been down (sick as a dog) but I wasn’t dead yet! I calmly told her that she had missed four out of five days of school that week and would not be getting any privileges of any sort until she managed to attend school for two weeks straight.

Attila had brought home a bag of Halloween candy from someone he does handyman work for. He had placed it on our bed for some unknown reason, and Ashley proceeded to unwrap every package of Smarties and dump them back into the bag. She did this methodically while attempting to Chinese-water-torture me into letting her get her hair done. When she realized that she was making zero progress with me, she dumped the now-open candy all over our bedroom floor and proceeded to flip the antique settee onto its’ back. She then informed me that she was heading to my office to trash it unless I agreed to her demands. 

That is when I got up and followed her downstairs. Before I could reach her, she threw one lamp against another (damaging both) and shoved my desk chair at me. I headed toward her to restrain her from doing more damage. I managed to dodge the rolling chair, but she kicked me in the stomach.

By this point, Leigha had run and gotten Attila for me. He can’t bear to see me hurt so when he saw Ashley hitting me he grabbed her by the hair. Together we corralled her in her bedroom and shut the door. I held it closed while Attila called 911. With each incidence Ashley’s physical aggression appears to be escalating. This time she actually hurt me. We were done.

By the time the police arrived, Ashley had trashed her room and kicked the air-conditioner out of her second-story window. The police took over the situation (talking to Ashley) and Attila and I went down to the living room to decide what should be done. I must admit that I was rather alluring in my pink floral flannel nightgown, four-day-old unwashed hair, and glazed eyes (from the fever).

Attila was shaking with rage – so much so that one of the police officers asked if he wanted an ambulance to come and check him out. Attila was adamant that he did not need one, so the officer asked Leigha to get him a glass of water (maybe liquor would have been quicker but we don’t really drink!). Attila turned to me at one point and said, “If this was milk instead of water I would be making a milkshake right now.” That is how hard the poor guy was shaking (and how easy it is for us to find some kind of humor in all situations).

Apparently Ashley told the police that she was going to kill herself by jumping out her window. Anyone who knows Ashley knows that she is not truly suicidal. She is way too scared of pain. But by merely making that statement it became possible for the police to require that Ashley be involuntarily committed (otherwise known as a “302″). That was their recommendation to us. All we knew was that we were sincerely afraid to be left alone in the house with Ashley that night. Something had to be done.

Ashley was taken by ambulance to Brandywine Hospital. I got dressed and pulled my slimy hair back into a really attractive pony tail. I brushed my teeth for the first time in days and got my purse. I drove to the hospital to sign Ashley in because Attila was still in too much of a state to do it himself.

I was at the hospital for five hours. I made the nurse take my temperature. He said it was 101.5 and told me that I shouldn’t be there. ”No kidding.” I curled into a ball in a chair in the corner of Ashley’s room, pulling the lightweight spare hospital gown tighter around my shoulders. And I sobbed. And I blew my nose a lot. And then I sobbed some more.

Ashley had blood drawn. They brought her dinner and a placed a freshly warmed blanket over her. I was jealous. I was cold. I was exhausted and sick and I felt really, really alone for the first time in a long time. I knew in my heart that God would bring beauty from these ashes, but at that moment I was at a loss. So I sobbed as Ashley glared.

At 10:00pm the blood work had come back (it is done to rule out drugs in her system). The psychiatrist on call recommended that Ashley be hospitalized in an acute care psychiatric facility. When Ashley realized that she was going to the hospital she began incessant begging: ”Please give me just one more chance. Please take me home and I’ll go right to bed and go to sleep and I won’t hurt anyone. I’ll take my meds. I’ll go to school. Please, Mommy, please. Just give me one more chance.” 

Although it is likely that I have the equivalent of a PhD in Heartbreak at this point in my life, a person can still only take so much! I remained silent and let Ashley’s cries fall on my not-so-deaf ears. When she realized that I wasn’t budging, the begging morphed back into angry rage- complete with expletives (as usual). ”I don’t ever want to see you again. Don’t visit me in the hospital! I hate you. You aren’t my real parents anyway! If you loved me you wouldn’t put me in a hospital.” I might have said “If you loved me you wouldn’t kick me in the stomach,” but I held my tongue. Yes, I really can do that on occasion.

I called Attila on my cell to see if he could take the second “Ashley shift.” He was calm by then and wide awake, so he and Leigha rode to my rescue. When they arrived at the hospital Leigha immediately tended to a sniffling Ashley, and Attila immediately tended to a heartbroken, fever-crazed Kristin. He agreed to follow the ambulance to Brooke Glen Behavioral Hospital in Fort Washington and sign Ashley in. Leigha decided to go with him and keep him company. I  gratefully headed home.

About a week later I received a phone call from eighteen-year-old Johnna. She has been living with her birth cousins in West Chester for over a year. Johnna said, “Mom, I have something to tell you.” And of course I knew what she was going to say so I beat her to it. ”You’re pregnant.” She said, “Yes, and I have taken six pregnancies tests to be sure.” Neither she or boyfriend Henry believe in abortion (whew!). She said that she did not know what they were going to do but were considering keeping the baby or possibly giving it up for adoption (what greater gift can one give?). She asked if she and Henry could come over the next evening to talk. I told her of course.

You know the saying, “Life abhors a vacuum.”? Well…. apparently 536 West 2nd Avenue abhors an empty bedroom. We had just learned that Ashley will most likely move from the hospital to a residential treatment facility for 4-6 months. Nearly simultaneously, Johnna received a text message from her cousin telling her that her bedroom had been packed up and she was not welcome back. She moved into Ashley’s room that night, withdrew from Unionville High School and returned to Octorara, from where she will graduate in May. 

The rest of the story is much, much longer and much more complicated. It is more funny, more sad, more profound, and more human than I can begin to capture right now in this blog. I will simply have to try to blog more frequently.

We don’t yet know when Ashley will move, or to where she will be moving. We don’t yet know what Johnna and Henry will choose to do with the baby. We don’t know where Johnna will go when Ashley returns home (the house doesn’t fit another person!). We DO know that we are family, and we will figure it all out one day at a time.

We don’t even pretend to make plans now. The only real “plan” we currently have is the upcoming nuptials of  of our beloved son Brent and his beautiful fiance Tara. Their joy lights the room every Wednesday when they arrive for Family Dinner.

Grandson Jayden is jabbering into cell phones, adoring his Apu (Attila), and suckering us all into deep, mad love with him on a daily basis. Leigha has become a cheerleader and looks darn adorable in her outfit. She has made approximately 974 friends now, and recently announced ”Middle School is awesome!” Brent is no longer ”homeless,” and is officially moving into an apartment in Downingtown this week. Tara will join him there once they wed on December 27th. Declan is snowed under at work as the busiest time of year hits his Embroidery Department at the Firestore (which he supervises). Katie loves teaching art at Octorara Elementary School and places the most precious pictures of her student’s work on her blog (click on her blog to the left if you want to see). Lyryn is working hard at two jobs (three if you count motherhood!). She looks fabulous and is pursuing her writing and photography interests. She has real talent (you can also click on her blog down at the left and see her photography and read her writing). Jesse recently started a new job at PetSmart and has been training in Delaware this week. Attila is well and we will be celebrating Susie’s 2nd anniversary on New Year’s Eve. That wonderful kidney has been a trooper!

We had Thanksgiving with Ashley at the hospital on Thursday. I didn’t start a food fight even though I threatened to (just kidding Mom). Ashley drew us a picture with the word “FAMILY” and the following equation:

1 Life

2 Live

2 gether

4 Ever

9 (non) Stop (1+2+2+4=9)

Maybe she is starting to get it. God is the author of miracles!

That’s it for now - too much to absorb at one time I guess. I will try to do shorter updates more frequently but I can’t make any promises.  I am definitely not in control!