As a blogger already, I've decided that I really need somewhere to write more of the difficulties that exist in family life.
Welcome to "The Red Maze."
A bit about me.
I am in my forties, I have three adopted children and one of them suffers from foetal alcohol syndrome (FAS), two who struggle academically, and a mother who really needs to get a hobby.
I always seem to preface telling people what is wrong with my FAS child by saying:
"he's adopted,"
That seems to be a hang up that I have, and one that was as a result of the dirty looks and wobbly conversations that ensued after mentioning the diagnosis to people who thought I must be some kind of reformed alcoholic lush.
Living with the devastation of alcohol, it does give me the right to tell anyone who is pregnant that if they are drinking alcohol, that they're idiots of the highest order. Don't anyone tell me that a few glasses are ok. I'm never going to tell you that I approve of that, so don't bother trying. And don't bother calling me all sorts of high and mighty for being so down on mothers who drink any alcohol at all.
I don't have any problem with women who've had a binge while they didn't know they were pregnant, or who were of the generation whose GPs told them that drinking the odd glass or two throughout pregnancy wasn't likely to do much damage.
I do have a problem with the women who are drinking alcohol now, when they know they are pregnant. If they can't do without alcohol for a few months, they should really be thinking of going to visit Alcoholics Anonymous.
With that as my intro, I don't promise to be politically or socially correct, but I will share my ideas of how I see life with difficult people in the house.
Welcome to "The Red Maze."
A bit about me.
I am in my forties, I have three adopted children and one of them suffers from foetal alcohol syndrome (FAS), two who struggle academically, and a mother who really needs to get a hobby.
I always seem to preface telling people what is wrong with my FAS child by saying:
"he's adopted,"
That seems to be a hang up that I have, and one that was as a result of the dirty looks and wobbly conversations that ensued after mentioning the diagnosis to people who thought I must be some kind of reformed alcoholic lush.
Living with the devastation of alcohol, it does give me the right to tell anyone who is pregnant that if they are drinking alcohol, that they're idiots of the highest order. Don't anyone tell me that a few glasses are ok. I'm never going to tell you that I approve of that, so don't bother trying. And don't bother calling me all sorts of high and mighty for being so down on mothers who drink any alcohol at all.
I don't have any problem with women who've had a binge while they didn't know they were pregnant, or who were of the generation whose GPs told them that drinking the odd glass or two throughout pregnancy wasn't likely to do much damage.
I do have a problem with the women who are drinking alcohol now, when they know they are pregnant. If they can't do without alcohol for a few months, they should really be thinking of going to visit Alcoholics Anonymous.
With that as my intro, I don't promise to be politically or socially correct, but I will share my ideas of how I see life with difficult people in the house.
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