My most recent post asked if a parent and child should see the same psychiatrist. The consensus was a resounding "NO." (Honestly, can't you people make anything easy?) Admittedly, upon giving the situation further thought, I'd rather preserve my flawless appearance with Bob's psychiatrist and let someone else be privy to my hot-messiness. And so the search begins. (Sigh.)

I've been shopping for a new psychiatrist for my chronic severe depression and anxiety, and I think I've found a good one. Female, office nearby, personable, good reputation, and covered by my insurance. There's just one possible snag--she's already seeing my son.

I'd like to thank all of you for the kind words and shared stories regarding last week's posts regarding my son, Bob's first inpatient psychiatric facility admission. I have more to share on that matter, but I'm returning to the present today for the ongoing saga of the 504 Plan.

I'd like to take this opportunity to be the 93,347th person to say "I'm so glad the holidays are over." Because I am. For a multitude of reasons.

December is, and always has been, a difficult month for Bob. It's tough for him to wake up in the morning, and hard for him to get to sleep at night. He "thinks too much" (in his words), and often finds himself getting sad and teary-eyed. And his schoolwork? Don't even ask. I've known Bob's mood takes a downturn in late Fall for a few years now. This year, it appearshe recognizes this aspect of his bipolar disorder diagnosis, as well.

It's hard enough trying to decipher the behavioral symptoms in children who have psychiatric illness. Trying to determine the root cause of physical complaints where no obvious cause exists is next to impossible.

My sister and (soon-to-be-ex) brother-in-law told their oldest daughter, my 9-year-old niece, they are getting a divorce. My sister and the girls will move into a duplex; their dad will stay in the house. It's an amicable situation (at least, as amicable as it can be)--no custody battles, no front-lawn fights, no holidays ending in thrown dishes. And my niece, who has always had problems with anxiety, is apparently taking it about as well as...whatever the opposite of "well" is.

We may not know exactly why, but as parents of children with psychiatric conditions affected by season changes (seasonal affective disorder, SAD), we can be pretty certain when our kids are going to develop their own version of "spring fever." The question is--what can we do about it?

Ah, spring. The days get longer, the nights get shorter. Warm breezes threaten the remaining snow drifts from winter's storms. Almost as soon as the groundhog sees its shadow, swimsuits and light jackets appear in stores. Valentine's candy is replaced by Easter candy and all the bunnies, green grass, and baby chicks you can handle. Even if you live under a rock and miss all these signs, you'll know spring is on its way when you call your child's therapist and find her booked through mid-July. It seems spring not only brings out the birds, bunnies and chocolate eggs with gooey filling. It also brings out the crazy.

"Why do my kids always turn into complete monsters during the holidays?" If you have ears, you've heard it; if you're a parent, you've said it. The "most wonderful time of the year" often seems like anything but for multiple reasons--not the least of which being our precious little angels usually seem to think they've already secured their position on either the "naughty" or "nice" list. Dealing with them, whether at home or away, can turn even Jolly Old St. Nick into Scrooge.