Ms. Tammy

Once upon a time, a very long time ago, I had a little boy and a little girl. My little girl was this gorgeous, quiet, little dream come true child. My little boy, however, was the child every parent has nightmares about. I knew I was in trouble when at three years old, he was throwing huge solid oak chairs at his baby sister and I. By five, he was stabbing knives into the walls and furniture. I woke up one morning to find one right in my bedroom door.

His teachers complained constantly and he was forever in trouble at school. He would just start screaming for no reason at the top of his lungs in class. The kids he went to school with didn't know from day to day which boy he was going to be. The slightly mean but tolerable kid, the class comic, or the demon from hell that terrified them.

When he walked by, neighbors would quickly usher their own kids inside the house. We couldn't go anywhere. At all. When I was working or going to school, even during his school hours, he would be even worse. I'd get calls to go get him, daycares would have him for a day then quit. Often they would cite the need to keep the other kids safe from him.

The boy was messed up. In our case, it was part nature and part nurture. When he was younger, I focused so hard on work, I was working three full time jobs at one time, and going to school for my GED. It got to a point where I rarely saw him. In my young mind though, I was working hard to provide us with a fantastic future. Work hard now means less work later. Oh, but if only life truly worked that way!

No, as hard as I tried, I was not the best parent in the world. That's one of the reasons I work from home now, honestly. Now I CAN work constantly towards a better future, AND still be here for my kids. I've got a lot of old fashioned opinions about how kids should be raised and those opinions come from something called "experience." That's one of those things moms just don't have the first few years.

My daughter slept in the room with me from the time she was a newborn. We had a deadbolt on our door, and each night, I'd pull the dresser behind the door. Yes, that is how scared I was of my son. But then, you'd be scared too if your kid still managed to find nice, sharp knives even though you had thrown all of yours in the dumpster!

One day, I had come down to get the kids ready to go. I was to take boy to meet his bus, then girl to daycare. I came down to what had become the norm. The entire downstairs had been trashed. The contents of our trash can laid all over the living room. Our fridge contents were all over the walls, floor and ceiling in the kitchen. The stuffing on one of the couches was pulled out, and stabbed into the cushion was another knife. Where was he finding the damned things at???

I got the children to their destinations, went home and burst out into tears. I called anyone and everyone I could think of for help. His own father didn't even want to take him for a while. The closest thing to help we got was CPS going to his school and asking why he was such a bad kid. Big Brothers of America suggested I put a locking gate over his door and turn his room into a cage to keep him in at night. A cage. That was the guy's exact words. I couldn't believe my ears that somebody would actually advise to do this to a child.

The problem was, the kid was so young at the time, there was nothing in place for troubled kids that young. There were plenty of things for teenagers and pre-teens, but nothing for kids just barely out of the toddler stage.

I was told things like "he just needs more discipline. Have you tried spanking?" Well, yes in fact I had. He LIKED it. It took a long time for me to realize it wasn't the spanking he liked, he liked that he could gain control of me.

Anyway, I had found the end of the rope, and was quickly falling into that spot many parents fall prey to. It was the, "there are only _____ years until he's grown and can move out" spot. It tore me up to think of my child like that. I was a complete failure at parenting.

After calling every person I could think of, every agency from MHMR to CPS, I walked out of my apartment. I was going to Wal Mart but don't remember why. I think I just needed out of the apartment. I was walking, as it was only just a short distance from me.

As I was walking, I passed a little martial arts studio called Champion Tae Kwon Do. Visions of the troublesome Karate Kid filled my mind and I opened the door.

For nearly two hours, I poured my heart out to the woman that owned the studio. Here I was crying hysterically with a stranger, telling her all of my fears. Now most people would have done just as all those I had contacted did. Most people would have told me he's too young to have those kinds of problems and it was just my imagination. Most people. Not Ms. Tammy.

I saw the Plumeria sapling growing on her desk, and I knew that I was in the right place. Whatever drove me out of the house that day, had taken me directly to Tammy. And as I poured my heart out, she listened intently as though lives depended on it.

Then, she said "This is what we're going to do..." Boom, boom boom. Plan of action in place. I had lost control of everything, and she was taking control. It was no longer my job to be his disciplinarian. My only job was to love him. That was it. Any teeny tiny thing he did, I was to report it to her. We all enrolled in her classes, (free I should add) and went every single day. Most kids went twice a week. Our family went daily.

And let me tell you, she worked every single bit of frustration out of you. She is a big part of the reason I go to the gym when I get stressed! Every night, when we went home, we were all too exhausted to do anything more than eat and go to bed.

And I did report everything to her. So did the school and the daycare. Boom, boom, BOOM.

It was a while before I started to see my child smile real genuine smiles. But I saw them. And then, I started to smile too. Eventually, I was taking on more of his discplinary issues and taking them to her less. Under the guidance of his psychologist, we started treating him for something called RAD, or Reactive Attachment Disorder. Just as animals can go feral, so can kids. A RAD kid is basically a feral child.

It was then that we started doing EVERYTHING together. Well, except for bathing. The hardest thing was to lie down next to my child to sleep, and not being sure if I'd wake up dead or alive the next day.

I still remember the biggest turning point for this kid. We had been working with Tammy, the school, the psychologist and the daycare for months. One day, Bear was sick at school, throwing up. He got a referall for it and was given ISS. Nobody called me. Nobody bothered to check his temperature. He came home off of the bus that day, and I could tell immediately something was wrong.

We went straight to the doctor where he was diagnosed with the flu. Oh yay. Three days at home. Difficult days, but not horrible days. We didn't have a tv anymore, so we read, cuddled, etc when he was well enough to do that. When he returned to school, I went with him. I demanded to see the principal, vice principal, his teachers, and his counselor t before I'd let him return to class.

I sat there, and in front of the child, in the middle of this huge meeting, I let them know they had all stepped way over the line. If he received just one more referal, I would be getting a lawyer. I demanded that all of them retake their early childhood education courses, as well as a child psychology course. I further demanded that they make use of their school nurse, or hire one that is worthy of the title.

My boy saw me standing there, giving them the wrath of mama, and that was his first heartfelt smile at me. He still gave me problems, yes. But he knew I was there for him. Without Tammy, I don't think I could have taken that stand.

Tammy took this boy, this lost, lonely, little boy, and started turning him around. Hell, she took this scared, lost, mother and turned her around too! She showed all of us love, even when I didn't believe I deserved it. She showed compassion, when I didn't think compassion still existed. While I hadn't yet found my path, she got me looking for it again.

While Bill saved my life, Tammy saved my son's. My son is now older, wiser, and such a good kid. (Mostly.) He thinks with his heart. He is kind and compassionate. He is well liked at school, because he is kind to everyone. He doesn't allow anyone to pick on the weaker kids but at the same time, ... I don't know how to explain it. He's over all, a good kid.

Thank you so much, Tammy, for all that you've given to us!

So what spurned this? This morning, Big Bear got yelled at unfairly by honey. Now, Honey's usually the calm, rooted person of the house. So it was a shock to me and to Bear to hear him yelling at all, let alone for something that wasn't Bear's responsibility nor fault. He was being irrational, and he knows it.

A long time ago, Bear would have lashed out, and violently. Not this time. While he did raise his voice a bit, not too loudly though, it wasn't to insult, anger or enrage. He was just trying to defend himself in the face of uncertainty. I know that it took a LOT of self control on his part to not scream back.

I am proud. Extremely. This morning reminded me of years past when the outcome would have been much, much different.

Again, thank you to Tammy. I can't begin to put into words just what you've done for my son, and this family.