I dropped Bob off this morning to spend the next week with his father. On the way, we hit the pharmacy to pick up his medication refills. I handed him one of his pills, as we'd been out when he took his morning doses. "It's chewable," I said, "so you can take it without water." When we reached his father's house, I got out of the car, gave him a long hug goodbye, and got back in the car. As he and his father drove away, I noticed, in the passenger seat, the pill I'd handed him twenty minutes earlier.

Monday, I took Bob to the water park with my sister and her daughter, who is Bob's age. The kids get along well, and my sister and I saw this as our opportunity to beach ourselves at the wave pool while they did their "kid" thing. Later, I recounted our day to my husband. "You let them go off by themselves?" he asked, incredulous.

Most of the comments I get on this blog come from other parents like me--parents who are raising a child (or children) who have bipolar disorder, ADHD or another psychiatric diagnosis. Occasionally, however, I get a comment from a troll who wants to blast me for being a bad parent, drugging my bipolar kid into a state of submission, and throwing myself a pity party in the process. Why do I even read them? Why do I feed into their negativity? Because deep down, I want them to be right.

As much as I hate to say it, I may be taking the "BMX Mom" bumper sticker off my car this summer. Bob hasn't really expressed much interest in racing so far (I believe he's mentioned it once in the past few months), and frankly, I'm not eager to drop that kind of cash for his activities when his behavior and attitude are as lousy as they have become.

Today, while working in our family room, I kept detecting the smell of cat litter (used, not new). I couldn't imagine where it might be coming from and for a moment thought I might be losing control of my own senses--that is, until I went into the neighboring bathroom to throw away a tissue and found, tucked under the sink, a plastic bag chock full of Kitty Krunchies. This would have irritated me considerably under any circumstances, but knowing less than 24 hours ago I specifically asked Bob "did you take it to the garage trash can AND put it in the trash can?" and he specifically said "YES", I was irritated considerably more.

Parents--answer this question: How many times today have I asked myself, "am I doing the right thing here?" I'm guessing most of you answered "at least once." And if your child has a psychiatric diagnosis, I'm guessing your answer was closer to "at least once every half-hour."

A few weeks ago, I put the kibbosh on Bob's playing with the gang of boys in our neighborhood. My decision came after he made the unfortunate choice to ride his bike with them to the middle school (several blocks away and out of my range of observation). It was, I believe, a necessity--the boys are mostly older than he is and, I fear, use him more for entertainment than anything--but I still hated to do it.

It seems Bob has officially won this round of "Stump the Therapist." She admitted today she isn't quite sure what to do with him at this point; that she can't determine how much of his problem stems from impulse control issues, and how much is just an "I don't give a s**t" attitude.

One thing I remember from high school science class is Newton's third law of motion--in a nutshell, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. As an adult, I've learned this is true--and not just for motion. A lot of things in life--actions--produce a responsive reaction of equal intensity. Particularly, the actions of a child living with a psychiatric illness.

I have a long-standing love/hate relationship with Daylight Savings Time. Don't get me wrong--I love having more daytime hours when the weather is on its best behavior, and I love that extra hour of sleep when it's time to Fall Back (if only my children understood that concept). I am not, however, a fan of spending almost all my winter free time in the dark, nor am I a fan of the 2-week grogginess that seems to follow Springing Forward. And as the parent of a child with ADHD and bipolar disorder, I am certainly no fan of how the time change seems to affect his mood.