A Simple Request and a Not so Simple Decision

Mike wants one of us to come visit him this weekend. A simple request maybe, but the many implications of it all keeping it from being a simple decision.

Historically when Mike was "locked up" (as he calls it) in Residential Treatment, we visited him almost every single week for a year. I think we might have missed three or four weeks that whole year. We rearranged the schedules of everyone else, sometimes skipping their sporting events, to make sure that the children were cared for and that one of us was there, without fail, every weekend. We did the same thing for John.

I often asked myself, during those times, "What's wrong with this picture?" The children who are doing what they are supposed to be doing get less of us while those who aren't get the most. But because visitation for them was in their Service Plans, it was required. Now it's not required. It is completely our choice. And I"m not sure what is best.

The second issue is that when Mike lives with us he never wants to talk to us. He avoids spending time with us, pratically hides from us, in fact. When we try to engage him in conversation he finds excuses (usually anger over the littlest thing) to walk away or punch a wall. Conversations with him frequently revolved around him asking us for things that we never by any of our children (they have an allowance and unlimited earning potential helping around the hose) and then, when we said no, he would be furious that we were so "neglectful and abusive." But now that he is literally locked up, he wants to spend an hour having a conversation? He could have had multiple hours of conversation with us a couple weeks ago . . . in fact he had those opportunities for 4 months.

The third issue is that Mike doesn't understand the difference between being in residential treatment because he wasn't safe at home and being put in detention for stealing a car. Part of me says, "This is detention, pal. Serve your time and we'll see you when you've moved to Chemical Dependency Treatment."

Finally, I know that I will not be able to sit and talk with him for an hour and pretend like there is no past and no future. I am still very frustrated that 3 of the kids bikes and their playstation (which he never played) are missing. I am angry that he was selling drugs and smoking pot in our basement. I am worried about him being able to graduate and the fact that he owes us so much money and has no job. I am concerned about the decisions he might make when he turns 18.

But Mike isn't interested in the past or the future and when I remind him it just makes him angry.

So, what do we do? Do we go, hoping for a few good moments that he will remember? Well, historically it won't be that way. Last week, as we were heading toward the police station, "Are you guys going to be there for me THIS TIME?", inferring we hadn't in the past (he had requested of the county that we not have contact with him during the spring of last year when he wanted our rights terminated. I see the future. If we do go once or twice he'll say, "I can't believe you guys only visited me once or twice the whole time (3 weeks) I was locked up." If we don't go, he'll just say "I can't believe you guys didn't visit me when I was locked up."

Bart going would be a better solution, but he is already missing a church event because he is so busy he doesn't have time to go there.

It will be a lose situation either way, in regards to MIke, whether we go or don't go. But not going would mean that our other kids would get more of our time.

But I remember my determination to focus on the relationship (which has not made a bit of difference in outcome).

I don't know what we'll do. I cannot honestly tell Mike that we have too much going on, I don't really want to tell him that I'm not interested in making the trip to see him (because he won't understand why, even if I explain it a million times), but I feel like an uncaring parent if I don't go.

It's the decisions like this that make raising kids with FASD so difficult.