Tales From A Mad Mom

Most people have never heard of Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD). Currently, it's not even classified as an actual disorder according to the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders). But it exists, and most psychiatric professionals do use and have a standardized description of it. So what is it? According to WebMD: Sensory Processing Disorder is a condition in which the brain has trouble receiving and responding to the information that comes in through the senses. Formerly referred to as sensory integration disfunction, it is  not currently recognized as a distinct medical diagnosis. Some people with sensory processing disorders are oversensitive to things in thier environment. Common sounds may be painful or overwhelming. The light touch of a shirt may chafe the skin. My Definition: Sensory Processing Disorder is a condition in which the brain has trouble integrating the information through the senses in a typical manner. As such, the sensations re

I hate cooking with a passion. You spend hours in the kitchen, then everyone complains as they eat. And then you have to clean up afterwards. But, in this MadHouse of ours, not only do all of my children actually expect to eat at least three times a day, there are many nutritional requirements we face due to their variety of needs. MadReader, the oldest girl, is a Type 1 Diabetic. Which means that everything she puts in her mouth needs to have the carbohydrates calculated. Each meal needs to have a balance of fat, protein and carbohydrate to get her to the next meal alive. She still needs to eat her vegetables too. And she's 12. So she's as picky, and prickly about everything at this lovely age. MadStyle, the middle girl, has Sensory Processing Disorder. She won't touch many tastes and textures. The list of foods she eats is very short, and there are limited combinations I can put them together in. Different foods must not touch, and no sauces - except tomato sauce. Ste

So when you announce you're divorcing, people want to know why. It's like a car crash, they want to look at the wreckage. They want to convince themselves it's not going to happen to them, to insulate themselves in their happy little bubble. And our family, we are the first in our circle to pass through the D word. So our friends are scared that it may happen to them. Even worse, the circle of weddings hasn't even finished yet. Talk about awkward, we have already RSVP'd to a few as a couple. So how did I end up here? It's a long story with a fast ending. Ending first, then the long story.  My ex-husband decided to hit the children. Not spanking. Not on the bum. I found out, notified authorities, and out the door he went, strongly encouraged by social workers. The long story now. He always had anger issues, and had to leave the house because he started hitting a few years earlier. He went to counselling, he took anger management classes, and figured out how

So I sit here and write this to you while huddled in a corner of my parents living room. You see I, MadMom, decided that rather than spend my first Christmas alone, I would take myself, my children, and my cat to my parents farm for a family Christmas. I’m  hiding from my toddler who if he sees my phone will freak out. Right now he is playing nicely with his new toys. He can’t be left for an instant as this place isn’t babyprooofed. And he has decided that napping is optional here. So hiding to write is the only sane plan. It’s been a bumpy year for all of us and I was hoping that an extra four hands would come in handy while everyone was off from school. I consider 2017 to be a write off, a rotten year, something we look back on and are thankful it’s not happening again.  We all survived, but we’re battered and bruised. So who are we? We are the mad family. Slightly insane, slightly angry and always moving forward.  I am MadMom, the now sole head of house and home. I am a newish s