A while back I (think I) posted that we were going to find a therapist for Doodlebug and see about finding a social skills group for him to attend. I FINALLY found a therapist on our network who came recommended - one therapist out of more than 20 names that I was given, but never mind, I'm sure insurance companies totally know who's best - and we got an appointment for January. I didn't want to wait that long, but what do you do? Say no, hunt for another doctor who might not come with anyone's seal of approval, find out he or she is crappy, and then wind up calling the first one back anyway? I figured I'd take my chances. We also got added to the cancellation list, just in case something opened up. I figured it was a 50/50 chance of being called early. Even odds.
Yesterday I got The Call. With the weather moving in (or so I suspect was the reason for the sudden slew of openings), they had slots available. One of them was at 9 a.m. The weather wasn't supposed to move in till midday - in fact, it's 1:43, and it started snowing/sleeting/freezing raining in earnest about 44 minutes ago, give or take 30 seconds, (I know this because the kids and I were about to head out the door for Doodlebug's swim team practice and I looked out and saw the ice solidifying on our back patio and thought, "OH, WELL, OF COURSE." And then I tried to drive to swim, anyway, and slid a couple of times and had the freezing rain coat my windshield in its icy grip and said eff that and turned around and came back home, where I intend to remain until the temperature is above freezing again) so I figured a 9 o'clock appointment was a safe bet.
I'm so glad we went. The gentleman in question is soft-spoken and older, and he seems more competent than the therapist we visited when Doodlebug was 5 and 6. He seems to understand children who struggle with Doodlebug's particular alphabet soup of issues, and he appears to know what to do with them. He spoke to Doodlebug at least as much as to me, and his first questions weren't about his infancy or past treatments; rather, he wanted to know about Doodlebug himself - what he liked to do, who his friends were, what activities he was involved in. He would have asked about school, but the kids were lugging books and papers when we arrived, so it became obvious fairly quickly that we were homeschoolers. It didn't faze him that Doodlebug stared out the window the entire time he was talking or that Doodlebug stumbled over words and phrases and went off on random tangents.
The office itself was the most comfortable therapist's office I've ever been in. It's kind of like a Goldilocks sort of thing - our first therapist's office was too big, the second too small. This one was just right. It had a big window with nothing in front of it. There were Legos and stuffed animals and games and sensory toys and plenty of small items to fidget with, and there were also two recliners and a loveseat in addition to the doctor's own small wheeled desk that he rolled out to talk to us. I saw a foot massager and a heating pad and art supplies.
I think the best thing, though, was the atmosphere. I felt comfortable. There was no judgment. There was no tension or any sense that we were on a schedule (though, of course, we were). Initial visits can often have that awkwardness that simply comes from meeting someone for the first time, but I didn't feel that, either.
Time will tell, obviously, whether this therapist does anything good for Doodlebug or not, but I am hopeful. And that is something I've needed for a long, long time.
Showing posts with label ADHD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ADHD. Show all posts
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Monday, March 4, 2013
Back to Basics
So. If you're a fairly regular follower of this blog (or if you go back and read the last few posts), you'll see that M1, Oz and I are in the midst of (yet another) rough patch. These happen periodically, but as he gets older, the battles seem to be raging more heavily and the trenches are getting dug in rather deeply. Those of you whose children are teens already can sympathize, I'm sure.
The problem boils down to precisely this: M1 wants to be treated like an adult. He is 10 and feels that he is old enough for certain 'rights.' However, he won't accept the responsibilities that come along with the rights, and he acts like a spoiled toddler when asked to toe the line. He hasn't yet worked out that to get the 'rights' that he wants, he also has to behave in a way that makes us - Oz and I - think that he's able to handle them responsibly.
Some of this revolves around the fact that he is a 10-year-old boy. Some of it also revolves around the fact that his psychological issues that cause him to firmly believe that he is a pearl and the world is the oyster. I'm doing my darnedest to snap him out of that way of thinking, but I read a book about a year ago that strongly suggests that there is no easy way to accomplish that goal because I could dig out of Alcatraz with a spoon more quickly than I'll be able to reach the depths of M1's brain. And flogging him with a wet noodle only makes him giggle.
Still, things couldn't continue the way they did last week... or even over the weekend for that matter. (On Sunday morning M1 woke me up at 2:14 a.m. trying to steal remotes out of my bedroom [again] and shortly before several of my girlfriends came over at 2 p.m., he and his sister were playing at the top of the stairs [which we've asked/told them repeatedly NOT to do] and she came tumbling down the stairs with a beanbag. Because he pushed her. Thankfully, she's fine. Beanbags are good like that. But it did mean that instead of having an outing with Oz like they normally get to do when I have friends over, they were sent to their rooms instead.) So we're going back to basics. Obviously there are many therapy methods out there. We visited a therapist and tried cognitive behavior therapy when M1 was small, and the results were laughable. His hyperactivity and impulsivity are such that there's no way he can think before doing anything, let alone plan actions before doing them. Plus, that's more or less what I've been attempting to get him to use for the last... ohhhhh, year or so... and clearly we've gotten nowhere.
Time to try a new tactic.
I have decided that since M1 is so bound and determined to act like a toddler every time we ask him to take responsibility for his actions, he needs to be treated like one. What motivates toddlers? Sticker charts and incentives. I'm calling it applied behavioral analysis, but really it's a sticker chart with incentives.
First I had M1 make a list of his top 12 privileges. This included everything from swim team to summer camp to electronics. I had him prioritize them. Then Oz printed off a chart that I hung on the wall. There are columns for each day of the week as well as a "Total" column and a space at the beginning where I've written all 12 of M1's desired privileges, one per week. Each day has space for three small stickers that M1 can earn - up to 21 a week, though for this first week we're shooting for 14 and the maximum I'm expecting is 19. Nobody's perfect, and I don't expect him to be.
To earn his three daily stickers, he has to do three things - one for each sticker:
1. Stay in his room at night. Obviously he's allowed to get up and use the toilet if he needs to - I'm not unreasonable - but there's no need for him to be downstairs (he has small paper cups in his vanity if he wants a drink) or in the game room in the middle of the night. Nothing good can come of that.
2. Respect other people. He's had real issues lately respecting other people's space lately, particularly his sister. This one also applies to lying. If he doesn't want me to lie to him, he shouldn't lie to me, right?? This one largely revolves around remembering the Golden Rule.
3. Respect property. Don't break things. Don't dismantle things. Don't walk along all the walls deliberately trying to break the doorstops with your foot. Things like that.
That's it. I may need to get more specific, but we'll see. I'm starting broad. I can always modify and specify as we go. Each week, if he reaches his goal, he'll get one of his privileges back. If he doesn't reach it, we stay at the current level and try again the next week. At best, this program will take 12 weeks to implement, which I'm hopeful will be long enough to make some of these things into habit. I do hate that this means we'll be skipping swim for at least two weeks (his #1-priority privilege was going to our homeschool group; #2 and #3 were swim team practice and stroke development class, respectively), but if that's what it takes...
Wish me luck. It's been a while since we've done this sort of intensive work around here, but I think it's long overdue. Fingers crossed that it works, because if it doesn't, I'm all out of ideas!
The problem boils down to precisely this: M1 wants to be treated like an adult. He is 10 and feels that he is old enough for certain 'rights.' However, he won't accept the responsibilities that come along with the rights, and he acts like a spoiled toddler when asked to toe the line. He hasn't yet worked out that to get the 'rights' that he wants, he also has to behave in a way that makes us - Oz and I - think that he's able to handle them responsibly.
Some of this revolves around the fact that he is a 10-year-old boy. Some of it also revolves around the fact that his psychological issues that cause him to firmly believe that he is a pearl and the world is the oyster. I'm doing my darnedest to snap him out of that way of thinking, but I read a book about a year ago that strongly suggests that there is no easy way to accomplish that goal because I could dig out of Alcatraz with a spoon more quickly than I'll be able to reach the depths of M1's brain. And flogging him with a wet noodle only makes him giggle.
Still, things couldn't continue the way they did last week... or even over the weekend for that matter. (On Sunday morning M1 woke me up at 2:14 a.m. trying to steal remotes out of my bedroom [again] and shortly before several of my girlfriends came over at 2 p.m., he and his sister were playing at the top of the stairs [which we've asked/told them repeatedly NOT to do] and she came tumbling down the stairs with a beanbag. Because he pushed her. Thankfully, she's fine. Beanbags are good like that. But it did mean that instead of having an outing with Oz like they normally get to do when I have friends over, they were sent to their rooms instead.) So we're going back to basics. Obviously there are many therapy methods out there. We visited a therapist and tried cognitive behavior therapy when M1 was small, and the results were laughable. His hyperactivity and impulsivity are such that there's no way he can think before doing anything, let alone plan actions before doing them. Plus, that's more or less what I've been attempting to get him to use for the last... ohhhhh, year or so... and clearly we've gotten nowhere.
Time to try a new tactic.
I have decided that since M1 is so bound and determined to act like a toddler every time we ask him to take responsibility for his actions, he needs to be treated like one. What motivates toddlers? Sticker charts and incentives. I'm calling it applied behavioral analysis, but really it's a sticker chart with incentives.
First I had M1 make a list of his top 12 privileges. This included everything from swim team to summer camp to electronics. I had him prioritize them. Then Oz printed off a chart that I hung on the wall. There are columns for each day of the week as well as a "Total" column and a space at the beginning where I've written all 12 of M1's desired privileges, one per week. Each day has space for three small stickers that M1 can earn - up to 21 a week, though for this first week we're shooting for 14 and the maximum I'm expecting is 19. Nobody's perfect, and I don't expect him to be.
To earn his three daily stickers, he has to do three things - one for each sticker:
1. Stay in his room at night. Obviously he's allowed to get up and use the toilet if he needs to - I'm not unreasonable - but there's no need for him to be downstairs (he has small paper cups in his vanity if he wants a drink) or in the game room in the middle of the night. Nothing good can come of that.
2. Respect other people. He's had real issues lately respecting other people's space lately, particularly his sister. This one also applies to lying. If he doesn't want me to lie to him, he shouldn't lie to me, right?? This one largely revolves around remembering the Golden Rule.
3. Respect property. Don't break things. Don't dismantle things. Don't walk along all the walls deliberately trying to break the doorstops with your foot. Things like that.
That's it. I may need to get more specific, but we'll see. I'm starting broad. I can always modify and specify as we go. Each week, if he reaches his goal, he'll get one of his privileges back. If he doesn't reach it, we stay at the current level and try again the next week. At best, this program will take 12 weeks to implement, which I'm hopeful will be long enough to make some of these things into habit. I do hate that this means we'll be skipping swim for at least two weeks (his #1-priority privilege was going to our homeschool group; #2 and #3 were swim team practice and stroke development class, respectively), but if that's what it takes...
Wish me luck. It's been a while since we've done this sort of intensive work around here, but I think it's long overdue. Fingers crossed that it works, because if it doesn't, I'm all out of ideas!
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Proverbs Ring True
Pride goeth before a fall, says the adage, and nowhere is that more true than here this week. I posted earlier this week that I was proud of M1. Now, I am full of disappointment, and because I blog all my life - the good, the bad, and the ugly - I need somewhere to vent my frustration.
Ahh, the anonymity of a blog and the kindness of readers. I know (OK, I hope) you'll sympathize, even if you can't really understand.
I discovered yesterday that M1 has been sneaking into my room at night - AGAIN - and stealing the remote - AGAIN - and using it to try to watch TV in the middle of the night.
AGAIN.
Now, Oz and I have parental controls set so that the kids can only watch TV during normal, human-functioning hours, so he wasn't able to get anywhere with that, but apparently he spent a good chunk of time learning how to delete game history and playing Wii games. *sigh*
Then today he asked for his math worksheet. We use MUS, and I use the 'test' pages as a final review of the material in each lesson. He asked for the test. I handed it to him. Five minutes later, he handed it back, complete and utterly correct, which is UNHEARD of for him, especially since it was neatly written and there was a plethora of difficult multiplication involved (squaring 63, for instance, as part of finding the area of a circle), which I know takes him several minutes to complete by itself.
So I asked him to hand over his scratch paper notebook. As I flip through it, knowing what I'm going to find, I thought I'd give him a chance to 'fess up.
"You're cheating, aren't you?" I asked.
"Nope."
"M1, there's no way you could finish that work that quickly. Show me your work."
"It's... all throughout the book. It's not just on one page." (This is probably true, as I know he does flip around when working, but I wasn't buying it today.)
"M1, did you come in here in the middle of the night and get the answer book and cheat?"
"Nope."
About that time I found the page. Numbered neatly 1-18 with all the answers listed next to it, the evidence was staring me in the face.
"M1, what's this?"
"Oh, that's just the answers copied down before I put them on the paper."
*sigh*
"M1, WHY????"
"I dunno..."
I do not punish for bad 'grades.' It only shows me that we need more practice on a concept. M1 KNOWS THIS. So I just don't understand.
I simply don't understand the lying, the cheating, the sneaking, the stealing, the hiding, and - like I said - the lying. I don't understand how he can want to be treated like an adult and be left alone... and then turn around and act like a toddler who has to be monitored 24/7. There's pushing boundaries, and then there's this. This is beyond pushing boundaries. And I'm lost.
Pass the Bailey's. I need a stiff'ner.
Ahh, the anonymity of a blog and the kindness of readers. I know (OK, I hope) you'll sympathize, even if you can't really understand.
I discovered yesterday that M1 has been sneaking into my room at night - AGAIN - and stealing the remote - AGAIN - and using it to try to watch TV in the middle of the night.
AGAIN.
Now, Oz and I have parental controls set so that the kids can only watch TV during normal, human-functioning hours, so he wasn't able to get anywhere with that, but apparently he spent a good chunk of time learning how to delete game history and playing Wii games. *sigh*
Then today he asked for his math worksheet. We use MUS, and I use the 'test' pages as a final review of the material in each lesson. He asked for the test. I handed it to him. Five minutes later, he handed it back, complete and utterly correct, which is UNHEARD of for him, especially since it was neatly written and there was a plethora of difficult multiplication involved (squaring 63, for instance, as part of finding the area of a circle), which I know takes him several minutes to complete by itself.
So I asked him to hand over his scratch paper notebook. As I flip through it, knowing what I'm going to find, I thought I'd give him a chance to 'fess up.
"You're cheating, aren't you?" I asked.
"Nope."
"M1, there's no way you could finish that work that quickly. Show me your work."
"It's... all throughout the book. It's not just on one page." (This is probably true, as I know he does flip around when working, but I wasn't buying it today.)
"M1, did you come in here in the middle of the night and get the answer book and cheat?"
"Nope."
About that time I found the page. Numbered neatly 1-18 with all the answers listed next to it, the evidence was staring me in the face.
"M1, what's this?"
"Oh, that's just the answers copied down before I put them on the paper."
*sigh*
"M1, WHY????"
"I dunno..."
I do not punish for bad 'grades.' It only shows me that we need more practice on a concept. M1 KNOWS THIS. So I just don't understand.
I simply don't understand the lying, the cheating, the sneaking, the stealing, the hiding, and - like I said - the lying. I don't understand how he can want to be treated like an adult and be left alone... and then turn around and act like a toddler who has to be monitored 24/7. There's pushing boundaries, and then there's this. This is beyond pushing boundaries. And I'm lost.
Pass the Bailey's. I need a stiff'ner.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
The DSM-V
So the DSM-V (which apparently is now called the DSM-5) reportedly has been finalized. It is projected to be published in May 2013. In some ways, I've been wondering what's been going to be in this new book for a long time; in other ways, I couldn't care less.
To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure how much it will affect us. M1's current diagnoses were made when he was 5, and I haven't felt a compelling need to get him reevaluated since. Technically his diagnoses are PDD-NOS (pervasive developmental disorder, not otherwise specified), ADHD (attention deficit hyperactive disorder) combined type, and GAD (generalized anxiety disorder). However, I'm almost 100% sure the anxiety was simply due to the fact that he was in kindergarten at the time and was basically running on 'high' 24/7, and I'm quite sure that if I had him retested now, the PDD-NOS would be a full diagnosis of Asperger's. Under the new DSM-5, however, it won't matter which of those he has. They're all lumped together under Autism Spectrum Disorder. OK, so theoretically this should make it easier for us to get treatment, since insurance companies and clinics will have to plan treatment for all cases equally. I've heard that some parents are upset that their child who was formerly 'high-functioning autistic' will now be under the same umbrella as a severely autistic child, but honestly, if they're all on the same spectrum, I hardly see that it matters. The treatment for both is similar and has to be tailored to the individual child regardless of the 'type' of autism.
M2's diagnoses have the potential to change as well. Right now she has the working diagnoses of mood disorder NOS, GAD, and separation anxiety. The first one has the most potential for change; that, however, was a given when we got the diagnosis. She has been stable now - more or less - for nearly a year, and sometimes I wonder if perhaps all her depression and manic actions were just a phase that she was going through. Still, it's entirely likely that they will recur at some point, because I can also be stable for years before again flinging myself off the deep end. I hope she isn't like me, but if she is, then I suspect any new diagnoses would fall under the new DSM category of 'disruptive mood dysregulation disorder.' That fits her manic/depressive phases to a T. But we shall see. Again, I suspect treatment for that would be similar to that of her current diagnosis, so what does it matter? What's in a name, anyway?
The one new thing that really caught my eye, though, is something I haven't touched on here, largely because it has only been a recurrent issue, not a constant one. Lately, though, it's reared its ugly head again, and I want to share it with you, not to embarrass my son (though no doubt it would) but simply to raise awareness of an issue that I find many families struggle with, especially families with socially impaired or ADHD children (primarily boys). It's to be called Internet use gaming disorder. In short, electronics addiction. M1 struggles with this and always has. It's hard to use the word 'addiction' when talking about a 10-year-old boy, but what else does one have to consider when catching your son with stolen electronics under his sheets at 12:30 a.m.? I struggle with whether this is really a diagnosis or simply another symptom of his Asperger's or ADHD, but I suspect that if I brought it to the attention of doctors after the DSM-5 is published, it's a diagnosis that would be added to his list.
Some people would say that I simply haven't parented him right. Either I've been too strict with electronics and he's begging for more freedom, or I've been too lax and just need to make more rules. Before we go further, let me tell you how electronics time works in our house. (I'm aware that these folks just need to go take a long walk off a short pier into a bayou full of hungry alligators, but I'm laying it all on the table today, so bear with me.)
Rule #1: No more than an hour or two of screen time per day. Some days we have no screen time; other days he gets the full complement. It varies.
Rule #2: All chores must be completed before screen time occurs. 'Nuff said there, I think.
Rule #3: When screen time is up, you must turn off the device within 5 minutes. I had to implement this rule when 'I have to save/get back home/finish this episode' turned into another 30 minutes of screen time.
On the computers, we have passwords, and the content is more or less controlled. On the TV upstairs, we have parental controls locked down for content and time. When they're borrowing an iPad, they have to stay where we can see or hear what they're playing. In other words, we're hardly lax parents, but usually when they ask for screen time, if chores are done, they get it. And yet, if you ask M1, we're tyrants. We never let him have as much screen time as he wants. When he does get screen time, he begs for more. He gets angry when you make him turn things off. He gets very upset if you don't say yes to his demands right away. If he's been promised electronics 'later,' you won't hear anything else until he gets that time... and if we're out somewhere, the instant we hit the door, it's, "Can I have my electronics time now??" If the electronics are in his room, he will be found on them at 12, 1, and 2 a.m. with great regularity. If I take them away, he steals them back - or, once and very memorably - steals his sister's electronics just to get his 'fix.' In many ways, his electronics obsession sounds like an addiction.
Unlike an addiction, however, I can't take away all electronics. I can keep them out of his room, yes, but he's going to need computers to do school work, to send e-mails, and to do research. He's going to have a phone to make phone calls and send texts - and probably play games - when he gets older. He will no doubt use computers daily in whatever job he has as an adult. This isn't like alcohol or drugs, which one can avoid simply by avoiding the atmosphere and/or the product itself. It isn't like gambling, which can be avoided with more difficulty but with a large degree of success. This is why I suspect that this diagnosis in the DSM-5 is simply a symptom of an underlying disorder, not a disorder in its own right. But I'm not the powers that be, and I don't get to make that decision. I can, however, keep an eye on him and decide if he needs special treatment for it. For now, like I said, I keep electronics out of his room and make sure he uses them under special circumstances only. If he gets older and the usage gets more disruptive and I'm no longer able to help (as teens rarely want to listen to their parents), there may be external help available for him, and maybe some books will be written on the topic in the next few years. I might not approve of the diagnosis as such, but it's kind of nice to know that it'll be there to fall back on if we have to.
To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure how much it will affect us. M1's current diagnoses were made when he was 5, and I haven't felt a compelling need to get him reevaluated since. Technically his diagnoses are PDD-NOS (pervasive developmental disorder, not otherwise specified), ADHD (attention deficit hyperactive disorder) combined type, and GAD (generalized anxiety disorder). However, I'm almost 100% sure the anxiety was simply due to the fact that he was in kindergarten at the time and was basically running on 'high' 24/7, and I'm quite sure that if I had him retested now, the PDD-NOS would be a full diagnosis of Asperger's. Under the new DSM-5, however, it won't matter which of those he has. They're all lumped together under Autism Spectrum Disorder. OK, so theoretically this should make it easier for us to get treatment, since insurance companies and clinics will have to plan treatment for all cases equally. I've heard that some parents are upset that their child who was formerly 'high-functioning autistic' will now be under the same umbrella as a severely autistic child, but honestly, if they're all on the same spectrum, I hardly see that it matters. The treatment for both is similar and has to be tailored to the individual child regardless of the 'type' of autism.
M2's diagnoses have the potential to change as well. Right now she has the working diagnoses of mood disorder NOS, GAD, and separation anxiety. The first one has the most potential for change; that, however, was a given when we got the diagnosis. She has been stable now - more or less - for nearly a year, and sometimes I wonder if perhaps all her depression and manic actions were just a phase that she was going through. Still, it's entirely likely that they will recur at some point, because I can also be stable for years before again flinging myself off the deep end. I hope she isn't like me, but if she is, then I suspect any new diagnoses would fall under the new DSM category of 'disruptive mood dysregulation disorder.' That fits her manic/depressive phases to a T. But we shall see. Again, I suspect treatment for that would be similar to that of her current diagnosis, so what does it matter? What's in a name, anyway?
The one new thing that really caught my eye, though, is something I haven't touched on here, largely because it has only been a recurrent issue, not a constant one. Lately, though, it's reared its ugly head again, and I want to share it with you, not to embarrass my son (though no doubt it would) but simply to raise awareness of an issue that I find many families struggle with, especially families with socially impaired or ADHD children (primarily boys). It's to be called Internet use gaming disorder. In short, electronics addiction. M1 struggles with this and always has. It's hard to use the word 'addiction' when talking about a 10-year-old boy, but what else does one have to consider when catching your son with stolen electronics under his sheets at 12:30 a.m.? I struggle with whether this is really a diagnosis or simply another symptom of his Asperger's or ADHD, but I suspect that if I brought it to the attention of doctors after the DSM-5 is published, it's a diagnosis that would be added to his list.
Some people would say that I simply haven't parented him right. Either I've been too strict with electronics and he's begging for more freedom, or I've been too lax and just need to make more rules. Before we go further, let me tell you how electronics time works in our house. (I'm aware that these folks just need to go take a long walk off a short pier into a bayou full of hungry alligators, but I'm laying it all on the table today, so bear with me.)
Rule #1: No more than an hour or two of screen time per day. Some days we have no screen time; other days he gets the full complement. It varies.
Rule #2: All chores must be completed before screen time occurs. 'Nuff said there, I think.
Rule #3: When screen time is up, you must turn off the device within 5 minutes. I had to implement this rule when 'I have to save/get back home/finish this episode' turned into another 30 minutes of screen time.
On the computers, we have passwords, and the content is more or less controlled. On the TV upstairs, we have parental controls locked down for content and time. When they're borrowing an iPad, they have to stay where we can see or hear what they're playing. In other words, we're hardly lax parents, but usually when they ask for screen time, if chores are done, they get it. And yet, if you ask M1, we're tyrants. We never let him have as much screen time as he wants. When he does get screen time, he begs for more. He gets angry when you make him turn things off. He gets very upset if you don't say yes to his demands right away. If he's been promised electronics 'later,' you won't hear anything else until he gets that time... and if we're out somewhere, the instant we hit the door, it's, "Can I have my electronics time now??" If the electronics are in his room, he will be found on them at 12, 1, and 2 a.m. with great regularity. If I take them away, he steals them back - or, once and very memorably - steals his sister's electronics just to get his 'fix.' In many ways, his electronics obsession sounds like an addiction.
Unlike an addiction, however, I can't take away all electronics. I can keep them out of his room, yes, but he's going to need computers to do school work, to send e-mails, and to do research. He's going to have a phone to make phone calls and send texts - and probably play games - when he gets older. He will no doubt use computers daily in whatever job he has as an adult. This isn't like alcohol or drugs, which one can avoid simply by avoiding the atmosphere and/or the product itself. It isn't like gambling, which can be avoided with more difficulty but with a large degree of success. This is why I suspect that this diagnosis in the DSM-5 is simply a symptom of an underlying disorder, not a disorder in its own right. But I'm not the powers that be, and I don't get to make that decision. I can, however, keep an eye on him and decide if he needs special treatment for it. For now, like I said, I keep electronics out of his room and make sure he uses them under special circumstances only. If he gets older and the usage gets more disruptive and I'm no longer able to help (as teens rarely want to listen to their parents), there may be external help available for him, and maybe some books will be written on the topic in the next few years. I might not approve of the diagnosis as such, but it's kind of nice to know that it'll be there to fall back on if we have to.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Motivation
As any parent or teacher will tell you, you can't MAKE a child do something. It's a universal rule, really. When we're little, sometimes we like to think that we can actually make someone do what we want, but then we grow up and learn the harsh truth that the only thing that can make someone do something is a highly-developed guilt complex or actual willingness on the part of the party being ordered asked to do something.
Adults, by and large, are pretty amenable. Kids are, too. Until you find something they have no desire to do, and then the amount of procrastination, lolly-gagging, and dilly-dallying that goes on can absolutely boggle the mind.
I've lamented M1's writing reluctance before. He goes through phases with it. Sometimes he loves to write; at other times it's like trying to get Jesse Ventura elected governor of Texas. It ain't gonna happen.
M1 and I have been doing some bigger projects over the last couple of months to wrap up the school year. He did a descriptive paper and did well and enjoyed it. He did an opinion paper and did well and mostly enjoyed it. Then, 2.5 weeks ago, I asked him to make up a fiction story. I didn't care how long it was, but it had to include dialogue because we're learning the rules of writing dialogue and he's only used them a time or two. We've worked on the story a little bit at a time since then, and for the first week and a half, he refused to let me see anything he'd done. Last Thursday he finally showed me the "final rough draft." (I figured this would've been the final final draft, but what did I know about his thought process?) It was a great story, except one thing was missing.
Dialogue. The ONE thing I asked him to make sure the story had.
*headwall*
I really, really want him to finish the story this week. Preferably by... ohhhhh... today. Because I really, really want to hit poetry again for a day or two before we start on our final project of the year - a research project that I want to let him combine with Powerpoint to make a presentation he can show to the whole family. I know that he will love this project. It combines his two favorite things - science (because I'm sure he'll pick some sort of scientific topic) and electronics. And hello, who doesn't love Powerpoint?!? But I also know that this project will take at least three weeks to complete, and M2's last day of school is one month away. So we need to get crackin'.
I love my kid. And I love that I get to invent projects that he enjoys so very much. And I love that he thinks that just because he's demonstrated a concept ONE WHOLE TIME he's done with it forever. Sadly, however, that doesn't translate into being motivated enough to finish a project to get to the fun stuff that comes afterward.
It's okay, though. I'm going to show him a sample Powerpoint presentation later today. And if that doesn't light a fire under his skinny lil' derriere, nothing will. Wish me luck.
Adults, by and large, are pretty amenable. Kids are, too. Until you find something they have no desire to do, and then the amount of procrastination, lolly-gagging, and dilly-dallying that goes on can absolutely boggle the mind.
I've lamented M1's writing reluctance before. He goes through phases with it. Sometimes he loves to write; at other times it's like trying to get Jesse Ventura elected governor of Texas. It ain't gonna happen.
M1 and I have been doing some bigger projects over the last couple of months to wrap up the school year. He did a descriptive paper and did well and enjoyed it. He did an opinion paper and did well and mostly enjoyed it. Then, 2.5 weeks ago, I asked him to make up a fiction story. I didn't care how long it was, but it had to include dialogue because we're learning the rules of writing dialogue and he's only used them a time or two. We've worked on the story a little bit at a time since then, and for the first week and a half, he refused to let me see anything he'd done. Last Thursday he finally showed me the "final rough draft." (I figured this would've been the final final draft, but what did I know about his thought process?) It was a great story, except one thing was missing.
Dialogue. The ONE thing I asked him to make sure the story had.
*headwall*
I really, really want him to finish the story this week. Preferably by... ohhhhh... today. Because I really, really want to hit poetry again for a day or two before we start on our final project of the year - a research project that I want to let him combine with Powerpoint to make a presentation he can show to the whole family. I know that he will love this project. It combines his two favorite things - science (because I'm sure he'll pick some sort of scientific topic) and electronics. And hello, who doesn't love Powerpoint?!? But I also know that this project will take at least three weeks to complete, and M2's last day of school is one month away. So we need to get crackin'.
I love my kid. And I love that I get to invent projects that he enjoys so very much. And I love that he thinks that just because he's demonstrated a concept ONE WHOLE TIME he's done with it forever. Sadly, however, that doesn't translate into being motivated enough to finish a project to get to the fun stuff that comes afterward.
It's okay, though. I'm going to show him a sample Powerpoint presentation later today. And if that doesn't light a fire under his skinny lil' derriere, nothing will. Wish me luck.
Monday, April 16, 2012
I Don't Have Time for a Birthday
Today is Monday. Today is a Monday. Interesting how one little article adjective can change the entire meaning of a sentence, isn't it? And yes, today is very much A Monday. I got up this morning - woke up would be too strong of a phrase since I'm not entirely sure I actually slept more than 30 minutes last night because the sheets kept getting warm and while I love warm sheets normally, last night my body desired the sheet temperature somewhere around freezing - and promptly started having a crappy day. I got up late, for one thing, because I actually forgot that I was supposed to get up at 6:48 when my snooze alarm went off for the second time.
Coherent, I was not.
Anyway, once my feet did hit the floor, I had to strip all the beds (they have yet to be remade, with the exception of mine... which Oz did), make M2's lunch, feed both children, sort and start laundry, empty the dishwasher, and take M2 to school. When we got out to the car, we discovered that the seats were still folded down from our trip to the storage unit yesterday. So we had to put seats back in their regular upright positions before we could go anywhere.
M1 and I got back home, and I realized I was almost out of laundry detergent, so I had to start a new batch. The school binder broke the second time M1 opened it this morning. The front simply came off. I know he wasn't yanking on it, so I blame manufacturer error. If I had the time and inclination, I'd gripe about that, but for now, I'm just sending a large raspberry in its direction and letting it be. Que sera sera and all that.
The contractors showed up this morning to work on the foundation of the house. This is a positive, since it's the last big thing we have to do before listing the house (as long as you don't count cleaning, which is a ginormous task that I'm not even contemplating right now), but it does provide yet another distraction, especially since they're amusing me by repeatedly taking photos of the horses.
Did I mention that M1 has his head firmly lodged up his posterior sphincter today? It took him an hour and a half just to do spelling. It's 10 a.m. and he's finally gotten to math. I'm thinking there may be subjects dropped today just to preserve the collective sanity.
So that's today. So far. And this entire week has a schedule that would make me crazy at the best of times, and clearly this is NOT the best of times. M2 has a field trip out of town one day, followed by a 2.5-hour dress rehearsal after school (which I'm not allowed to attend) for a talent show that takes place on the following day. She has a violin lesson as usual, but she also has a rehearsal on Saturday for a performance on Sunday. All this means she's incredibly burned out, and I can't blame her. M1 and I had short-lived viruses over the weekend, and his has turned into some sort of sinus infection. I need to do a sinus rinse with him and see if that fixes things, because I do not have time to take him to the doctor.
I also don't have time for my birthday. Theoretically this should be tomorrow. But since I don't have time to do anything, my good friend C has proposed that I postpone my birthday a week and stay 29 for a few extra days until her husband is back in town to watch the kids and we can go out. Besides anything else, she said, it'll give me something to look forward to.
I really like her logic. Because next week will be better. It's gotta be. So that's when I'll have my birthday, and hopefully we'll also get to list the house!
Coherent, I was not.
Anyway, once my feet did hit the floor, I had to strip all the beds (they have yet to be remade, with the exception of mine... which Oz did), make M2's lunch, feed both children, sort and start laundry, empty the dishwasher, and take M2 to school. When we got out to the car, we discovered that the seats were still folded down from our trip to the storage unit yesterday. So we had to put seats back in their regular upright positions before we could go anywhere.
M1 and I got back home, and I realized I was almost out of laundry detergent, so I had to start a new batch. The school binder broke the second time M1 opened it this morning. The front simply came off. I know he wasn't yanking on it, so I blame manufacturer error. If I had the time and inclination, I'd gripe about that, but for now, I'm just sending a large raspberry in its direction and letting it be. Que sera sera and all that.
The contractors showed up this morning to work on the foundation of the house. This is a positive, since it's the last big thing we have to do before listing the house (as long as you don't count cleaning, which is a ginormous task that I'm not even contemplating right now), but it does provide yet another distraction, especially since they're amusing me by repeatedly taking photos of the horses.
Did I mention that M1 has his head firmly lodged up his posterior sphincter today? It took him an hour and a half just to do spelling. It's 10 a.m. and he's finally gotten to math. I'm thinking there may be subjects dropped today just to preserve the collective sanity.
So that's today. So far. And this entire week has a schedule that would make me crazy at the best of times, and clearly this is NOT the best of times. M2 has a field trip out of town one day, followed by a 2.5-hour dress rehearsal after school (which I'm not allowed to attend) for a talent show that takes place on the following day. She has a violin lesson as usual, but she also has a rehearsal on Saturday for a performance on Sunday. All this means she's incredibly burned out, and I can't blame her. M1 and I had short-lived viruses over the weekend, and his has turned into some sort of sinus infection. I need to do a sinus rinse with him and see if that fixes things, because I do not have time to take him to the doctor.
I also don't have time for my birthday. Theoretically this should be tomorrow. But since I don't have time to do anything, my good friend C has proposed that I postpone my birthday a week and stay 29 for a few extra days until her husband is back in town to watch the kids and we can go out. Besides anything else, she said, it'll give me something to look forward to.
I really like her logic. Because next week will be better. It's gotta be. So that's when I'll have my birthday, and hopefully we'll also get to list the house!
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
What To Do?
What do you do when a child's handwriting is awful? I'm not talking about a little bit crooked or things that are misspelled - those things are age-appropriate and can be fixed with time. I'm talking about handwriting that is barely legible - what my elementary teachers would have called "chicken scratching."
M1 probably has dysgraphia. Handwriting is and always has been difficult for him. We're working on cursive, and he sort of likes it, but he sort of doesn't because it's still writing. For now, though, he still has to turn in work, and half the time I can barely read it.
We've worked on handwriting consistently since he came home three years ago. We use Handwriting Without Tears, and he knows how to write properly. He simply won't do it. A lowercase 's' often looks like a backward 'c' because he won't put the top curve on it. Lowercase 'n' and 'h' could be twins more often than not. The list goes on and on. If he misses a letter in a word, rather than erase and fix it he'll try to squeeze it in, even if there isn't space. He doesn't leaves space between words or sentences. Letters are all over the place, even on paper that has the dotted line down the middle to help keep things even. If the space is available, his writing is HUGE - this is becoming a real issue with regards to math, where it's often hard to pick out his answer from the chaotic math problems scattered around the page (yes, I do provide him with separate paper to do these on, but he won't use it).
I let him type when he can, but that's a painfully tedious process yet, too, so for now that really isn't an option.
What would you do? I need ideas, because I'm about out. Right now I'm making him copy the really bad stuff over again, but that adds SO much time to our school day, depending on whether he'll focus or not (the focus issue is another part of the puzzle here... I really wish I could put him back on Vyvanse!). So what do you think? Tough it out till he's fluent at typing and/or cursive? Make him keep copying the worst stuff over? Just get over it? I will not write everything (many reasons for this, not the least of which is that M1 needs to work on his capitalization and punctuation issues), nor is oral work always an option, so I really need something that might stick.
Thanks!
M1 probably has dysgraphia. Handwriting is and always has been difficult for him. We're working on cursive, and he sort of likes it, but he sort of doesn't because it's still writing. For now, though, he still has to turn in work, and half the time I can barely read it.
We've worked on handwriting consistently since he came home three years ago. We use Handwriting Without Tears, and he knows how to write properly. He simply won't do it. A lowercase 's' often looks like a backward 'c' because he won't put the top curve on it. Lowercase 'n' and 'h' could be twins more often than not. The list goes on and on. If he misses a letter in a word, rather than erase and fix it he'll try to squeeze it in, even if there isn't space. He doesn't leaves space between words or sentences. Letters are all over the place, even on paper that has the dotted line down the middle to help keep things even. If the space is available, his writing is HUGE - this is becoming a real issue with regards to math, where it's often hard to pick out his answer from the chaotic math problems scattered around the page (yes, I do provide him with separate paper to do these on, but he won't use it).
I let him type when he can, but that's a painfully tedious process yet, too, so for now that really isn't an option.
What would you do? I need ideas, because I'm about out. Right now I'm making him copy the really bad stuff over again, but that adds SO much time to our school day, depending on whether he'll focus or not (the focus issue is another part of the puzzle here... I really wish I could put him back on Vyvanse!). So what do you think? Tough it out till he's fluent at typing and/or cursive? Make him keep copying the worst stuff over? Just get over it? I will not write everything (many reasons for this, not the least of which is that M1 needs to work on his capitalization and punctuation issues), nor is oral work always an option, so I really need something that might stick.
Thanks!
Monday, January 9, 2012
Of Boys and Power Tools
It's long been a well-established fact in our house that M1 has no focus. On weekends, especially, he's the family drifter - he drifts through his morning routine sometime between 8 and 10 a.m. with occasional bursts of energy motivated by us parental units 'encouraging' him to get his stuff done already. Then he drifts into the living room, picks on his sister, gets sent to his room for some time to himself, drifts back out when we feel like he's ready to be around people again, and the cycle repeats. He really has a hard time coming up with things to do by himself, and he often does epitomize the "SQUIRREL!!!!" stereotype that comes with ADHD. Weekdays aren't so much of a problem because he has a plan of attack and knows that he has to focus to get school done in a timely manner (today, for example, we're having a really hard time because he refuses to pay attention to anything I've asked and would much rather spend his time flopping face-first into the couch or hanging upside down off his desk rather than listening to even the simplest of instructions).
No matter what day it is, though, he always a good job of proving the old adage that "idle hands are the devil's playground."
Gosh, he's just like his mother. How many times did she hear that as a kid? She pleads the Fifth.
Moving on... when it comes to the boy, weekends are really the biggest issue.
Take Saturday. We all got up late. We had brunch at a nearby restaurant (one that serves breakfast all day) and then went mattress shopping for Oz and I. Even before we left the house, M1 had managed to irritate all of us to the point of snapping. He spent the day in perpetual motion and behavioral limbo. He refused to focus, wouldn't keep his hands to himself, interrupted conversations constantly, and just generally made a nuisance of himself. I knew this was largely caused by his being up until nearly 10 p.m. the previous evening, but it still didn't really excuse his behavior. He was being, for lack of a better term, a total and utter ass. He knew it, but he didn't really see the need to change since nobody had made him stop. (We're working on the concept that he has to make himself behave, but it's an uphill battle. Since the world clearly revolves around him, he doesn't understand why he should follow any sort of social norm unless the consequence is so dire that it actually might inconvenience him in some small way... and then we get the flopping-on-the-floor, shrieking, pouting, running-away, "IT'S-NOT-FAIR" fit... the sort that you see 3-year-olds throw on grocery store floors, except that he's 9 years old and 5 feet tall and UGH.) The final straw came on the way home from the mattress store when I turned on some music, which often calms him, and he decided he needed to kick, punch, and otherwise 'drum' on the seats... and his sister... to the beat of the music (and when I say beat of the music, please understand that M1 can't follow the beat unless someone points it out to him... he eventually gets it, but he can't pick out a beat to save his life). So I told him that when we got home, he was going to his room.
"SQUAAWWWWWWKKKKKK!!!!"
This did not make him very happy. He did do as he was told when he got home... for about five minutes. Then he emerged and said he felt better and was going to come out now. I told him that no, he wasn't, because A) I was in the middle of taking my bed apart for the new mattress and couldn't monitor him and B) it'd only been five minutes, which is nowhere near the amount of time that it takes for him to recover any sort of positive thought process. So I sent him back to his room. On his way, he announced, "Then I'm going to be really horrible so you HAVE to let me out!" This floored my mother-in-law, who had loaned us the bed of her truck to bring the mattress home in. Sure enough, M1 proceeded to pound on his door and make shrieking noises. I marched down and demanded five (allowance) dollars as payment for potential damage to either my house or my ears. He paid it, then promptly started stomping; I took two more. He settled into a sullen silence when he realized that he was literally paying for his anger.
We managed to get through the rest of the day, but it wasn't pretty. Sunday morning wasn't much better. I'd had enough by that point, so I assigned him chores. M2 was upset that she wasn't getting to spend time with her beloved brother, but after the discussion we had a few weeks ago about M1 needing to learn a few lessons, she kept her mouth shut. M1 dusted the living room and cleaned the glass, washed dishes, sorted the recycling, and did a couple other household chores before he finally seemed to settle down. At that point, I told him he had a choice: He could go do a science experiment or he could go do woodworking in the garage. His face lit up, and he immediately ran to his room to get a book of semi-simple wood projects that he had recently purchased with some Christmas cash. He schemed and dreamed and planned and finally convinced Oz that he really wanted to build a certain set of shelves (well, really, he wanted to build me a brand-new nightstand, which I thought was really sweet, and I do need one, but that project was both out of his league and out of our price range since even the easiest plan involved cutting biscuits, and we don't have a machine for cutting those). So he and Oz went to the store, picked up wood, came home, made space in the garage, and started working. I came out just in time to see Oz teaching M1 how to use power tools.
Now, I'm leery of power tools at the best of times, but really, a severely ADHD 9-year-old using power tools is right up there on my list of OMG NO. But I trust Oz, and he was patiently showing M1 how to use the machine, so I stepped back to watch. Oz made M1 put on safety glasses. He held down the wood so that M1 could use both hands to hold the tool (and thereby keep his fingers out of the way). He had him do several practice cuts before they moved on to the real project. And I was amazed to see M1 pay attention the entire time and do very well when it came to actually cutting the wood.
In no time at all, they had the pieces cut and assembled, and they proudly brought it out to the front porch (I was painting the trim) to show me. They went back into the garage to finish it up. I finished painting, cleaned up my mess, and went into the house to start supper. Shortly afterward, M1 came into the house. He was quite calm as he washed his hands and told me that Oz had been holding two of the pieces of wood when they dropped to the concrete garage floor and broke, and that the entire project was ruined until the following weekend. He wasn't angry. He didn't yell or shriek or throw a tantrum or even cry, so I assumed he'd done all that in the garage. Oz came in and I asked how he had taken the incident, and he was as shocked as I was when we learned that he hadn't thrown a fit in the garage, either. No anger. No crying. Nothing.
I may not be in favor of the boy using power tools on a regular basis, but if that's what it takes to keep him focused and out of trouble... I'll take it!
No matter what day it is, though, he always a good job of proving the old adage that "idle hands are the devil's playground."
Gosh, he's just like his mother. How many times did she hear that as a kid? She pleads the Fifth.
Moving on... when it comes to the boy, weekends are really the biggest issue.
Take Saturday. We all got up late. We had brunch at a nearby restaurant (one that serves breakfast all day) and then went mattress shopping for Oz and I. Even before we left the house, M1 had managed to irritate all of us to the point of snapping. He spent the day in perpetual motion and behavioral limbo. He refused to focus, wouldn't keep his hands to himself, interrupted conversations constantly, and just generally made a nuisance of himself. I knew this was largely caused by his being up until nearly 10 p.m. the previous evening, but it still didn't really excuse his behavior. He was being, for lack of a better term, a total and utter ass. He knew it, but he didn't really see the need to change since nobody had made him stop. (We're working on the concept that he has to make himself behave, but it's an uphill battle. Since the world clearly revolves around him, he doesn't understand why he should follow any sort of social norm unless the consequence is so dire that it actually might inconvenience him in some small way... and then we get the flopping-on-the-floor, shrieking, pouting, running-away, "IT'S-NOT-FAIR" fit... the sort that you see 3-year-olds throw on grocery store floors, except that he's 9 years old and 5 feet tall and UGH.) The final straw came on the way home from the mattress store when I turned on some music, which often calms him, and he decided he needed to kick, punch, and otherwise 'drum' on the seats... and his sister... to the beat of the music (and when I say beat of the music, please understand that M1 can't follow the beat unless someone points it out to him... he eventually gets it, but he can't pick out a beat to save his life). So I told him that when we got home, he was going to his room.
"SQUAAWWWWWWKKKKKK!!!!"
This did not make him very happy. He did do as he was told when he got home... for about five minutes. Then he emerged and said he felt better and was going to come out now. I told him that no, he wasn't, because A) I was in the middle of taking my bed apart for the new mattress and couldn't monitor him and B) it'd only been five minutes, which is nowhere near the amount of time that it takes for him to recover any sort of positive thought process. So I sent him back to his room. On his way, he announced, "Then I'm going to be really horrible so you HAVE to let me out!" This floored my mother-in-law, who had loaned us the bed of her truck to bring the mattress home in. Sure enough, M1 proceeded to pound on his door and make shrieking noises. I marched down and demanded five (allowance) dollars as payment for potential damage to either my house or my ears. He paid it, then promptly started stomping; I took two more. He settled into a sullen silence when he realized that he was literally paying for his anger.
We managed to get through the rest of the day, but it wasn't pretty. Sunday morning wasn't much better. I'd had enough by that point, so I assigned him chores. M2 was upset that she wasn't getting to spend time with her beloved brother, but after the discussion we had a few weeks ago about M1 needing to learn a few lessons, she kept her mouth shut. M1 dusted the living room and cleaned the glass, washed dishes, sorted the recycling, and did a couple other household chores before he finally seemed to settle down. At that point, I told him he had a choice: He could go do a science experiment or he could go do woodworking in the garage. His face lit up, and he immediately ran to his room to get a book of semi-simple wood projects that he had recently purchased with some Christmas cash. He schemed and dreamed and planned and finally convinced Oz that he really wanted to build a certain set of shelves (well, really, he wanted to build me a brand-new nightstand, which I thought was really sweet, and I do need one, but that project was both out of his league and out of our price range since even the easiest plan involved cutting biscuits, and we don't have a machine for cutting those). So he and Oz went to the store, picked up wood, came home, made space in the garage, and started working. I came out just in time to see Oz teaching M1 how to use power tools.
Now, I'm leery of power tools at the best of times, but really, a severely ADHD 9-year-old using power tools is right up there on my list of OMG NO. But I trust Oz, and he was patiently showing M1 how to use the machine, so I stepped back to watch. Oz made M1 put on safety glasses. He held down the wood so that M1 could use both hands to hold the tool (and thereby keep his fingers out of the way). He had him do several practice cuts before they moved on to the real project. And I was amazed to see M1 pay attention the entire time and do very well when it came to actually cutting the wood.
In no time at all, they had the pieces cut and assembled, and they proudly brought it out to the front porch (I was painting the trim) to show me. They went back into the garage to finish it up. I finished painting, cleaned up my mess, and went into the house to start supper. Shortly afterward, M1 came into the house. He was quite calm as he washed his hands and told me that Oz had been holding two of the pieces of wood when they dropped to the concrete garage floor and broke, and that the entire project was ruined until the following weekend. He wasn't angry. He didn't yell or shriek or throw a tantrum or even cry, so I assumed he'd done all that in the garage. Oz came in and I asked how he had taken the incident, and he was as shocked as I was when we learned that he hadn't thrown a fit in the garage, either. No anger. No crying. Nothing.
I may not be in favor of the boy using power tools on a regular basis, but if that's what it takes to keep him focused and out of trouble... I'll take it!
Thursday, November 3, 2011
When Meds Quit
M1.
He's a FABULOUS kid. He's smart, funny, thoughtful, sweet, and just generally great to be around... when he's medicated.
This isn't to say he can't be all those things when he's not medicated, but they don't come naturally; they are masked by all the overwhelming difficulties that he has to even function on a simple level. Lately, whether it's due to an impending growth spurt, sinus issues, hormone issues, or a combination of all of the above, M1 has been even more difficult to handle than usual once the medication wears off... and it seems to be wearing off earlier and earlier.
Because I really need to get it out of my system, I'm going to share some shining examples:
-----
Wednesday is library day. Wednesday is ALWAYS library day. The routine doesn't change. The librarians don't change. The lighting, book placement, and even most of the flyers on the door don't really change. We arrive a minute or two after we pick M2 up from school because the library is just down the street. We find our requested books from the arrival shelf first. Then I walk around with M2 while M1 selects his books; we join back up, check out and leave. Simple enough, right?
You'd think.
This Wednesday, M1 lost it. He "went stupid," to use the phrase that Oz and I use after the kids are down for the night. We're not trying to imply that he's stupid but merely that his brain ceases to process ANY social norms at all and basically shuts down to the outside (i.e. real) world. We walked up to the checkout counter and placed our books down for the librarian to check out. I looked down and noticed that M1 had a shoe untied, and I asked him to tie it. He squatted down, tied it... and didn't come back up. He stayed in a squatting position. The librarian had finished checking out M1's books, so I asked him to stand up to get them. M1 paused, stared at me blankly, and then - I swear - bounced up and played peek-a-boo with the librarian before ducking back down behind the counter. The librarian kind of gave me a funny look, but he's seen us around enough to know that sometimes my kids can be a bit... er... difficult. (For whatever reason, the library is one of M2's favorite places to have meltdowns.) Anyway, I asked M1 again if he would get his books. I don't think he heard me, so I said his name.
Word to the Wise: Never, ever call an ASD child's name in a public place unless you want a violent reaction. Triple this if they're zoned out.
M1 shot to his feet with an extremely loud shriek/squawk, flinched when I tried to touch him so I could try to bring him back to reality, grabbed his books, and made a dash for the door. In the meantime, all I really wanted in that moment was a T-shirt that read, "With ADHD and Asperger's, life is never dull." The people using the computers nearby were amused; I think the librarian was a little scared.
-----
M1's lack of impulse control is scary, too. Just tonight, we had major battles over the following:
1. The (mis)use of balloons.
2. The (mis)placement of metallic, foot-eating scientific objects like wires and alligator clips.
3. The (surreptitious, post-teeth-brushing, post-bedtime) eating of candy... and the lying that comes with getting caught.
4. The closing (slamming) of doors.
5. Admission of guilt to ANY of the above... because clearly he's entirely innocent and just the victim of his own malfunctioning brain. (To which I say yes, he is, but that's not an excuse to act like a giant equine posterior.)
-----
Now, please contrast all of the above to the following anecdote:
M1 and I dropped by Target and Hobby Lobby in between a swim lesson and swim team practice.
In Target, he helped me find some carrots and potatoes so I could make beef stew for dinner. He double-checked every slot in the coffee creamer section because I *still* haven't been able to locate any peppermint mocha. I know it's out there; I'm just not that lucky. He used every ounce of his 9-year-old male fashion sense to help me pick a winter hat and gloves because I haven't had either of those in about 11 years. He helped me pick out two sweatshirts and a gorgeous red sweater dress for M2 and asked if he could have another pair of sweatpants for swim days when I ask him to throw warm clothes on over his cold, wet jammers so we can haul bootie to the car and get to M2's school on time.
At Hobby Lobby, he was amazing, too. We had used the last of our green gel icing dye for Halloween cookies and needed to get some more before Christmas because HELLO... Christmas cookies gotta have green. It was such a fun trip! We wandered into the scrapbooking aisle to look at stickers to see if there were any that M2 might want for her art supply stash. He helped me pick out the best green dye for Christmas cookies and then requested black and gold decorating gels with the logical argument that if we bought them, I wouldn't have to mix those particular colors but they could still make things like gold stars or Santa's boots. He helped me find and look at a couple of items that I've been considering as gifts for various people.
Throughout both stores, we laughed. He let me hold his hand and pretended to be embarrassed when I hugged him in public. He waited (fairly) patiently in line when we were ready to check out. He picked up the bag(s) and carried it (them) out to the car for me after we were done.
-----
Like I said, he's an amazing kid. It simply astounds me that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde really can exist in this one small boy's body. I would love to get a look at his brain. So if anyone out there wants to run an fMRI for research purposes, sign us up! As long as he's medicated, I'm sure he'd be quite amenable.
And if he's off the meds?
Well, all bets are off.
He's a FABULOUS kid. He's smart, funny, thoughtful, sweet, and just generally great to be around... when he's medicated.
This isn't to say he can't be all those things when he's not medicated, but they don't come naturally; they are masked by all the overwhelming difficulties that he has to even function on a simple level. Lately, whether it's due to an impending growth spurt, sinus issues, hormone issues, or a combination of all of the above, M1 has been even more difficult to handle than usual once the medication wears off... and it seems to be wearing off earlier and earlier.
Because I really need to get it out of my system, I'm going to share some shining examples:
-----
Wednesday is library day. Wednesday is ALWAYS library day. The routine doesn't change. The librarians don't change. The lighting, book placement, and even most of the flyers on the door don't really change. We arrive a minute or two after we pick M2 up from school because the library is just down the street. We find our requested books from the arrival shelf first. Then I walk around with M2 while M1 selects his books; we join back up, check out and leave. Simple enough, right?
You'd think.
This Wednesday, M1 lost it. He "went stupid," to use the phrase that Oz and I use after the kids are down for the night. We're not trying to imply that he's stupid but merely that his brain ceases to process ANY social norms at all and basically shuts down to the outside (i.e. real) world. We walked up to the checkout counter and placed our books down for the librarian to check out. I looked down and noticed that M1 had a shoe untied, and I asked him to tie it. He squatted down, tied it... and didn't come back up. He stayed in a squatting position. The librarian had finished checking out M1's books, so I asked him to stand up to get them. M1 paused, stared at me blankly, and then - I swear - bounced up and played peek-a-boo with the librarian before ducking back down behind the counter. The librarian kind of gave me a funny look, but he's seen us around enough to know that sometimes my kids can be a bit... er... difficult. (For whatever reason, the library is one of M2's favorite places to have meltdowns.) Anyway, I asked M1 again if he would get his books. I don't think he heard me, so I said his name.
Word to the Wise: Never, ever call an ASD child's name in a public place unless you want a violent reaction. Triple this if they're zoned out.
M1 shot to his feet with an extremely loud shriek/squawk, flinched when I tried to touch him so I could try to bring him back to reality, grabbed his books, and made a dash for the door. In the meantime, all I really wanted in that moment was a T-shirt that read, "With ADHD and Asperger's, life is never dull." The people using the computers nearby were amused; I think the librarian was a little scared.
-----
M1's lack of impulse control is scary, too. Just tonight, we had major battles over the following:
1. The (mis)use of balloons.
2. The (mis)placement of metallic, foot-eating scientific objects like wires and alligator clips.
3. The (surreptitious, post-teeth-brushing, post-bedtime) eating of candy... and the lying that comes with getting caught.
4. The closing (slamming) of doors.
5. Admission of guilt to ANY of the above... because clearly he's entirely innocent and just the victim of his own malfunctioning brain. (To which I say yes, he is, but that's not an excuse to act like a giant equine posterior.)
-----
Now, please contrast all of the above to the following anecdote:
M1 and I dropped by Target and Hobby Lobby in between a swim lesson and swim team practice.
In Target, he helped me find some carrots and potatoes so I could make beef stew for dinner. He double-checked every slot in the coffee creamer section because I *still* haven't been able to locate any peppermint mocha. I know it's out there; I'm just not that lucky. He used every ounce of his 9-year-old male fashion sense to help me pick a winter hat and gloves because I haven't had either of those in about 11 years. He helped me pick out two sweatshirts and a gorgeous red sweater dress for M2 and asked if he could have another pair of sweatpants for swim days when I ask him to throw warm clothes on over his cold, wet jammers so we can haul bootie to the car and get to M2's school on time.
At Hobby Lobby, he was amazing, too. We had used the last of our green gel icing dye for Halloween cookies and needed to get some more before Christmas because HELLO... Christmas cookies gotta have green. It was such a fun trip! We wandered into the scrapbooking aisle to look at stickers to see if there were any that M2 might want for her art supply stash. He helped me pick out the best green dye for Christmas cookies and then requested black and gold decorating gels with the logical argument that if we bought them, I wouldn't have to mix those particular colors but they could still make things like gold stars or Santa's boots. He helped me find and look at a couple of items that I've been considering as gifts for various people.
Throughout both stores, we laughed. He let me hold his hand and pretended to be embarrassed when I hugged him in public. He waited (fairly) patiently in line when we were ready to check out. He picked up the bag(s) and carried it (them) out to the car for me after we were done.
-----
Like I said, he's an amazing kid. It simply astounds me that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde really can exist in this one small boy's body. I would love to get a look at his brain. So if anyone out there wants to run an fMRI for research purposes, sign us up! As long as he's medicated, I'm sure he'd be quite amenable.
And if he's off the meds?
Well, all bets are off.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Alternative Medicine, Probiotics, and Other Crazy Stuff
I like to think that I'm a fairly green, crunchy earth mama. I buy organic/local as much as my budget and time constraints allow. I recycle. I own my own chickens. I have a garden (got the last of the dried herbs put up today).
(Note to self: If you allow herbs to dry outside in September, they will get coated in ragweed spores. Bad idea when you're massively allergic to ragweed.)
(Note to others: If you see me sneezing uncontrollably in September, chalk it up to ragweed. I'm not contagious. Promise.)
Anyway, even though I try to do these things, I'm probably not as earthy as many others. I'm pretty conventional when it comes to medicine. I've never gotten very far into the alternative medicine scene. Vitamins, sure. I even have some probiotic pills stashed somewhere and push them onto the kids whenever they have to take antibiotics for sinus infections or whatever. I'm such a drug junkie. But vitamins do not alternative medicine make. So when one of my friends brought some water kefir grains to a get-together and started talking about the probiotic benefits, I was curious. I stared at a jar that the hostess had sitting on her dining room table and wondered if it was really drinkable. The girl who had brought the grains promised that it tasted like apple juice and that she and her kids enjoyed it. Finally, I made the decision and brought the grains home. I popped them in a quart Mason jar with some sugar and molasses (healthy stuff, right?), filled it up with water, gave it a swish with a spoon, and let it sit. For 48 hours. On my kitchen counter. Nobody commented on it.
This morning I picked it up and watched some bubbles float to the surface and figured it had probably set long enough. I put some ice cubes in a Marvin the Martian glass (because Marvin the Martian rocks!) and drained some of the kefir over them. I strained the rest into a pitcher and stared at the cup of brownish liquid for a moment before actually feeling brave enough to take a sip. It was surprisingly good, so I drank a little more and then decided to see what M1 thought of it. (Bear in mind this is the boy who thinks tonic is delicious.)
He loved it. I asked him what he thought it was, and he said, "Ginger ale?" Then he chugged the entire glass and announced that if it was ginger ale, it was the best ginger ale EVER and could he have more? I told him what it really was and showed him the restarted grains. He was fascinated. I'm sure he'll finish off the pitcher later. (Turns out, by the way, that water kefir grains are, in fact, used for ginger beer. Who knew?)
Once I'd tried it and liked it, I decided to see what the Mayo Clinic had to say about water kefir... or just kefir in general. As it turns out, both the Mayo Clinic and the Huffington Post are pretty positive about its effects. That's good enough for me.
Now to check more into biofeedback to see if it might help M1 with his ADHD...
(Note to self: If you allow herbs to dry outside in September, they will get coated in ragweed spores. Bad idea when you're massively allergic to ragweed.)
(Note to others: If you see me sneezing uncontrollably in September, chalk it up to ragweed. I'm not contagious. Promise.)
Anyway, even though I try to do these things, I'm probably not as earthy as many others. I'm pretty conventional when it comes to medicine. I've never gotten very far into the alternative medicine scene. Vitamins, sure. I even have some probiotic pills stashed somewhere and push them onto the kids whenever they have to take antibiotics for sinus infections or whatever. I'm such a drug junkie. But vitamins do not alternative medicine make. So when one of my friends brought some water kefir grains to a get-together and started talking about the probiotic benefits, I was curious. I stared at a jar that the hostess had sitting on her dining room table and wondered if it was really drinkable. The girl who had brought the grains promised that it tasted like apple juice and that she and her kids enjoyed it. Finally, I made the decision and brought the grains home. I popped them in a quart Mason jar with some sugar and molasses (healthy stuff, right?), filled it up with water, gave it a swish with a spoon, and let it sit. For 48 hours. On my kitchen counter. Nobody commented on it.
This morning I picked it up and watched some bubbles float to the surface and figured it had probably set long enough. I put some ice cubes in a Marvin the Martian glass (because Marvin the Martian rocks!) and drained some of the kefir over them. I strained the rest into a pitcher and stared at the cup of brownish liquid for a moment before actually feeling brave enough to take a sip. It was surprisingly good, so I drank a little more and then decided to see what M1 thought of it. (Bear in mind this is the boy who thinks tonic is delicious.)
He loved it. I asked him what he thought it was, and he said, "Ginger ale?" Then he chugged the entire glass and announced that if it was ginger ale, it was the best ginger ale EVER and could he have more? I told him what it really was and showed him the restarted grains. He was fascinated. I'm sure he'll finish off the pitcher later. (Turns out, by the way, that water kefir grains are, in fact, used for ginger beer. Who knew?)
Once I'd tried it and liked it, I decided to see what the Mayo Clinic had to say about water kefir... or just kefir in general. As it turns out, both the Mayo Clinic and the Huffington Post are pretty positive about its effects. That's good enough for me.
Now to check more into biofeedback to see if it might help M1 with his ADHD...
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Oh... Wow...
I remember now what my son is like when he can concentrate. Oh, wow, it's been too long. Remember how I said I wasn't yelling and it was making me crazy to not yell? I didn't even *have* to yell to get his attention yesterday. Today... yes. But yesterday had a lot of the placebo effect going on.
Let me back up.
On Monday, M1 and I went to see his pediatrician to talk about putting him back on ADHD medication. She asked if we wanted to try the nonstimulant Intuniv, and I said, "Ahhhhh... no." I thought about it, but in the end, I'm about 99.9% sure that guanfacine ain't gonna cut the mustard, long-acting form or not. My son does better on caffeine, which means stimulants are helpful. Sleeping meds... not so much.
She gave us a prescription for Vyvanse. Since it was almost 5 p.m. when we got out of the doctor's office, I wanted to wait until Tuesday morning to pick up the medication, but M1 insisted that he wanted to start it right away. Since I hadn't been able to pick up his EpiPen yet, either, we headed over to the pharmacy and got the script filled.
Yesterday morning, M1 took 20 mg of Vyvanse. I won't say it was a miracle worker, but it certainly made the day a lot easier. Instead of having to take 45-minute breaks every 10-15 minutes, he was able to focus. School was over and done by 9:30 a.m. He had a science review project due on Thursday and finished it yesterday. He started work on a project we're doing that doesn't have to be done till next Friday. And I didn't have to yell. He wasn't bouncing off the walls, he was able to focus, and I didn't have to redirect him 1000 times during the day. Now, like I said, some of that had to do with placebo effect because he really wanted to be focused. And even in the science project, the last couple pages were definitely not of the same quality of the first few because of this attention slip. But I didn't have to yell. I didn't have to beg or cajole or spend half my day standing over him to see if we could get the bare basics finished.
Today he's bouncier. He's forgotten about the placebo effect, and while he's definitely calmer and more focused than he was last week (school still got done by 10 a.m.), he's still distractable. This makes more sense at the dose he's at. We'll spend two more days at the 20-mg dose and then double it to 40 mg. Given his size and previous history, the pediatrician suspects that 50 mg will be his therapeutic level. Vyvanse is a controlled substance and so we can't get refills and the doctor can't fax a prescription in, but we don't have to have a visit, either; I just have to call her and let her know what dose I think is going to work best, and she'll make sure the prescription is prepared for us to pick up.
As always, there's a chunk of me saying, "What took ya so long??" It's a guilt thing. When I see how calm he is... when I see how he's able to process SO much more information... when I see how he doesn't flip his lid when I say 'no' to something or catch him doing something he shouldn't be (which will also settle down as his impulse control is curbed)... it all adds up to mean that I think our household will be a much happier, calmer one this summer than it could be otherwise.
Usually it's the little things that get me through the day, but the big things feed the little things. This is a big change, but wow. Just wow. I'm looking forward to spending the rest of the school year with my son!
Let me back up.
On Monday, M1 and I went to see his pediatrician to talk about putting him back on ADHD medication. She asked if we wanted to try the nonstimulant Intuniv, and I said, "Ahhhhh... no." I thought about it, but in the end, I'm about 99.9% sure that guanfacine ain't gonna cut the mustard, long-acting form or not. My son does better on caffeine, which means stimulants are helpful. Sleeping meds... not so much.
She gave us a prescription for Vyvanse. Since it was almost 5 p.m. when we got out of the doctor's office, I wanted to wait until Tuesday morning to pick up the medication, but M1 insisted that he wanted to start it right away. Since I hadn't been able to pick up his EpiPen yet, either, we headed over to the pharmacy and got the script filled.
Yesterday morning, M1 took 20 mg of Vyvanse. I won't say it was a miracle worker, but it certainly made the day a lot easier. Instead of having to take 45-minute breaks every 10-15 minutes, he was able to focus. School was over and done by 9:30 a.m. He had a science review project due on Thursday and finished it yesterday. He started work on a project we're doing that doesn't have to be done till next Friday. And I didn't have to yell. He wasn't bouncing off the walls, he was able to focus, and I didn't have to redirect him 1000 times during the day. Now, like I said, some of that had to do with placebo effect because he really wanted to be focused. And even in the science project, the last couple pages were definitely not of the same quality of the first few because of this attention slip. But I didn't have to yell. I didn't have to beg or cajole or spend half my day standing over him to see if we could get the bare basics finished.
Today he's bouncier. He's forgotten about the placebo effect, and while he's definitely calmer and more focused than he was last week (school still got done by 10 a.m.), he's still distractable. This makes more sense at the dose he's at. We'll spend two more days at the 20-mg dose and then double it to 40 mg. Given his size and previous history, the pediatrician suspects that 50 mg will be his therapeutic level. Vyvanse is a controlled substance and so we can't get refills and the doctor can't fax a prescription in, but we don't have to have a visit, either; I just have to call her and let her know what dose I think is going to work best, and she'll make sure the prescription is prepared for us to pick up.
As always, there's a chunk of me saying, "What took ya so long??" It's a guilt thing. When I see how calm he is... when I see how he's able to process SO much more information... when I see how he doesn't flip his lid when I say 'no' to something or catch him doing something he shouldn't be (which will also settle down as his impulse control is curbed)... it all adds up to mean that I think our household will be a much happier, calmer one this summer than it could be otherwise.
Usually it's the little things that get me through the day, but the big things feed the little things. This is a big change, but wow. Just wow. I'm looking forward to spending the rest of the school year with my son!
Monday, April 4, 2011
Support
Thank you to everyone for the words of help and support that you sent after I posted about putting M1 back on medication. They were very kind. I particularly liked the comparison to a child with insulin issues. That one struck me as having a lot of truthiness.
I can't believe I just typed that.
-----
We went to see the pediatrician today for M2's 6-year-old well-child visit. She had to have blood drawn for a couple of tests (cholesterol, thyroid, CBC), and she didn't even scream once! Have I mentioned I love our ped and her staff?? I love them. The phlebotomist is also the x-ray tech, so the children know and love and trust her, and the nurse has been there for several years now, too, so between me and those two ladies keeping the girl occupado, M2 didn't even know she'd been stuck till there was blood in the vials. It actually surprised her when she looked down and saw. She started to get all freaked out until the nurse asked if it was hurting and she thought about it.
"No..."
And by then, they were done.
Bwahahahaha....
The rest of the visit went equally well. M2 is humongous. She's healthy. The doctor and I agree on plans of attack for various issues, should they arise. And theoretically we don't have to go back till she's 8! I love our doc, but hey, co-pays eat ya alive.
-----
Initially I was annoyed that I hadn't been smart enough to plan ahead and get a babysitter for M1 while we went to the doctor visit, but in the end, I think I'm glad he came. The doctor definitely got to see him at his 'best.' OK, mostly that means he went a little bit bonkers. We happened to be placed in a room right behind the doctor's desk, and so he kept trying to jump out and scare her if I had stepped out for some reason, like to take M2 to use the restroom or accompany her to the blood draw. He kept trying to answer questions that had been directed at M2. He kept trying to mouth EVERYTHING. I swear he's currently worse than a toddler about that one. Seriously. He put a plastic car and a library book in his mouth in the span of five minutes. At one point, I asked him to step out of the room so that M2 could change back into her regular clothes, and when I opened the door to let him back in, I discovered he'd escaped... all the way to the discharge area at the far end of the building.
It's a small building, and I found him easily, chatting cheerily away to the reception staff, but still. Gak.
In the end, when we go back for that med appointment on the 18th, I don't think I'll have any problems proving my point, if I haven't done that already.
-----
Finally, and on a completely unrelated note, Tractor Supply Co. has baby rabbits.
*collective awwwwww*
G'night, y'all!
I can't believe I just typed that.
-----
We went to see the pediatrician today for M2's 6-year-old well-child visit. She had to have blood drawn for a couple of tests (cholesterol, thyroid, CBC), and she didn't even scream once! Have I mentioned I love our ped and her staff?? I love them. The phlebotomist is also the x-ray tech, so the children know and love and trust her, and the nurse has been there for several years now, too, so between me and those two ladies keeping the girl occupado, M2 didn't even know she'd been stuck till there was blood in the vials. It actually surprised her when she looked down and saw. She started to get all freaked out until the nurse asked if it was hurting and she thought about it.
"No..."
And by then, they were done.
Bwahahahaha....
The rest of the visit went equally well. M2 is humongous. She's healthy. The doctor and I agree on plans of attack for various issues, should they arise. And theoretically we don't have to go back till she's 8! I love our doc, but hey, co-pays eat ya alive.
-----
Initially I was annoyed that I hadn't been smart enough to plan ahead and get a babysitter for M1 while we went to the doctor visit, but in the end, I think I'm glad he came. The doctor definitely got to see him at his 'best.' OK, mostly that means he went a little bit bonkers. We happened to be placed in a room right behind the doctor's desk, and so he kept trying to jump out and scare her if I had stepped out for some reason, like to take M2 to use the restroom or accompany her to the blood draw. He kept trying to answer questions that had been directed at M2. He kept trying to mouth EVERYTHING. I swear he's currently worse than a toddler about that one. Seriously. He put a plastic car and a library book in his mouth in the span of five minutes. At one point, I asked him to step out of the room so that M2 could change back into her regular clothes, and when I opened the door to let him back in, I discovered he'd escaped... all the way to the discharge area at the far end of the building.
It's a small building, and I found him easily, chatting cheerily away to the reception staff, but still. Gak.
In the end, when we go back for that med appointment on the 18th, I don't think I'll have any problems proving my point, if I haven't done that already.
-----
Finally, and on a completely unrelated note, Tractor Supply Co. has baby rabbits.
*collective awwwwww*
G'night, y'all!
Friday, April 1, 2011
D.O.N.E.
I have reached a conclusion.
M1 is going back on ADHD meds as soon as we can get in to our ped's office and get the script.
On Wednesday, we had a 'regular' day of school planned. Most days this means we're done by about 10:30 a.m., 11 at the latest if we chase down random topics and take a few breaks between subjects. On Wednesday, school took till 1 p.m. and even then it was only because I poked and prodded him through the last hour. He's currently throwing an actual kicking, screaming, pounding-the-floor, crying, raging fit about SCIENCE, of all things (his very favorite subject and one he's been looking forward to all day) because I'm "being stubborn."
Yes, son, you still have to write down the results of the experiment. I'm not being unreasonable. Your tantrum, however, IS.
His swim teacher has been telling me for a month or so that he's stopped progressing due to a complete and utter lack of focus. His sleep pattern is better now that he's back on the melatonin, but for a while, he was staying up till 10:30 or later, waking in the middle of the night to mess with M2 or roam the house, then wanting to sleep all day. Proper sleep hasn't helped, though.
He's been off of medication since we brought him home from private school nearly two years ago. I've considered restarting it several times since then but have always talked myself out of it, telling myself that I could make changes in the way I deal with him to work on the issues at hand. It's come to the point now, though, where I *KNOW* I'm doing all I can do and it's far from being enough. His impulse control, focus, and problem-solving skills simply are not there. Caffeine helps, but it's only a short-term stimulant, and neither it nor I can last all day. We both wear out after a while.
I hate the idea of putting him back on medication - I really do. But I also want him to be able to function, and right now, he can't.
Being a mom means doing the stuff we don't want to do for the greater good... right?
M1 is going back on ADHD meds as soon as we can get in to our ped's office and get the script.
On Wednesday, we had a 'regular' day of school planned. Most days this means we're done by about 10:30 a.m., 11 at the latest if we chase down random topics and take a few breaks between subjects. On Wednesday, school took till 1 p.m. and even then it was only because I poked and prodded him through the last hour. He's currently throwing an actual kicking, screaming, pounding-the-floor, crying, raging fit about SCIENCE, of all things (his very favorite subject and one he's been looking forward to all day) because I'm "being stubborn."
Yes, son, you still have to write down the results of the experiment. I'm not being unreasonable. Your tantrum, however, IS.
His swim teacher has been telling me for a month or so that he's stopped progressing due to a complete and utter lack of focus. His sleep pattern is better now that he's back on the melatonin, but for a while, he was staying up till 10:30 or later, waking in the middle of the night to mess with M2 or roam the house, then wanting to sleep all day. Proper sleep hasn't helped, though.
He's been off of medication since we brought him home from private school nearly two years ago. I've considered restarting it several times since then but have always talked myself out of it, telling myself that I could make changes in the way I deal with him to work on the issues at hand. It's come to the point now, though, where I *KNOW* I'm doing all I can do and it's far from being enough. His impulse control, focus, and problem-solving skills simply are not there. Caffeine helps, but it's only a short-term stimulant, and neither it nor I can last all day. We both wear out after a while.
I hate the idea of putting him back on medication - I really do. But I also want him to be able to function, and right now, he can't.
Being a mom means doing the stuff we don't want to do for the greater good... right?
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
AAAAARRRRRGH!!!
Thank you. I needed to get that out of my system. November has not been kind to me so far.
First of all, we have NaNoWriMo. I think I'm doing well! I have written about 8,500 words in my projected-to-be 50,000+ word novel. I had more written this morning until the Blue Screen of Death appeared on my laptop and ate my work with relish. I hadn't seen the Blue Screen of Death in a long time. I haven't missed it.
Then we have M2. She's back to the girl she was before all the poo hit the fan back in March or April or whenever it started; I've blocked the date conveniently from my memory. We went to see the psychiatrist yesterday, and when I told him that she was back to baseline, we chatted a bit about the nastiness of the Lexapro and then he said, "So... if she'd been like this all along, you'd never have come in?" "Right." That answer pleased him, apparently, because the invisible wall that had been up before, the one that basically said he was taking me at face value and didn't really BELIEVE me, disappeared. He said we're left looking at three options to explain her behavior:
1. It was all a phase and we'll never see it again.
2. It's all anxiety, but she's one of the odd kids who just react negatively to SSRIs due to age, and if we have to try it again in a few years, she might have a different reaction.
3. This is the upswing in a roller coaster that will eventually include the rages again.
He thinks we're looking at option #3, though he'd like to see #1 or #2. We go back in three months or sooner if the symptoms return.
So there's that. Which is good. Never mind that I still feel like I'm on pins and needles around her waiting for the other behavioral shoe to drop, and when she's at home, she's like a leech stuck to my leg that can somehow make its thoughts heard in my head and doesn't SHUT UP. Today, after violin, we got home and she insisted on coming out to the chicken coop with me to collect eggs, add straw, clean out and refill water containers, get mail, etc. Leech. I love her dearly, but sometimes I need five minutes of silence. Five minutes. An eternity of silence in a mom's world.
M1... M1, M1, M1... he's the one that caused all the anguish today. The boy has. no. self-control. NONE! I don't understand it. I can tell my 5-year-old to go do a simple chore like picking up the toys in her room, and she will go, and she will do it, and it will be done, and more often than not, it will be done well. I mean, she's five, she ain't perfect, but she FOCUSES and she TRIES. That's what counts. The boy... the boy would honestly and truly lose his head if it wasn't attached. I think I've mentioned that next year I'm going to have him dress up as the Headless Horseman for Halloween just so I can watch him lose his head.
And he's sneaky.
And he lies.
And he doesn't CARE, because if it doesn't affect him or he doesn't think he'll get caught, it must not be wrong. I thought kids with Asperger's were supposed to be rule-followers. Where on earth did MY kid come from?? Oh, right... rule-followers as long as the rules make sense to them.
Today, he lost a library book. Not a big deal in and of itself. I thought I'd help him look for it, and in the process I found Halloween candy wrappers hidden in a drawer. He tried to lie and say they'd been there a long time, but it's only been a few days since I've opened that drawer, and they weren't there then. He finally owned up, but he lost the rest of his candy. I told him he needed to clean up his room in an effort to find the book, and when I went to check on him, he was playing his sister's Didj. I confiscated that and gave it back to her AND took his Didj as well. Anyone want it? Now that he has a DS (which lives in my room permanently because of this exact issue), he doesn't need the Didj. It comes with a blue plastic 'case.' I'd be happy to sell it to ya. And ship it. The process went like that for the rest of the evening. I gave him a 20-minute warning before it was time for supper, warned him that he needed to get to work on *something,* because he hadn't done squat, but it wasn't motivation enough. Twenty minutes came (with warnings) and went and he was no closer to being done than before. I told him he had thirty minutes to be at the table, gave him multiple warnings in between, and still nothing. I told him that he had 15 minutes if he wanted leftovers; nil. I started yanking allowance bucks, and that finally motivated him a little bit, but he still lost $5 before all was said and done.
The book is still nowhere to be found. Since it's not due till next Wednesday and I can recheck it online up to three times, I figure it'll turn up somewhere between now and then. No worries. My beef is that I do not have the time to stand over an 8-year-old boy and monitor his every move. When I say don't play the electronics, it means DON'T PLAY THE ELECTRONICS. When I say clean your room to look for a book, I mean that, too! I know he hears me; he can repeat verbatim what I tell him to do. But somehow the words don't make it from the ears to the brain. The brain is simply bypassed for the mouth.
Someone tell me that eventually a synapse somewhere will fire and he'll be able to monitor his own actions. Just humor me if you have to. I just need to know that at some point my son is going to quit stealing and ignoring and lying and will actually be able to complete a string of commands or own electronic devices (including flashlights) without a 24-hour monitor. Because if he can't start following rules and laws and commands, that 24-hour monitor is going to be attached to his ankle.
First of all, we have NaNoWriMo. I think I'm doing well! I have written about 8,500 words in my projected-to-be 50,000+ word novel. I had more written this morning until the Blue Screen of Death appeared on my laptop and ate my work with relish. I hadn't seen the Blue Screen of Death in a long time. I haven't missed it.
Then we have M2. She's back to the girl she was before all the poo hit the fan back in March or April or whenever it started; I've blocked the date conveniently from my memory. We went to see the psychiatrist yesterday, and when I told him that she was back to baseline, we chatted a bit about the nastiness of the Lexapro and then he said, "So... if she'd been like this all along, you'd never have come in?" "Right." That answer pleased him, apparently, because the invisible wall that had been up before, the one that basically said he was taking me at face value and didn't really BELIEVE me, disappeared. He said we're left looking at three options to explain her behavior:
1. It was all a phase and we'll never see it again.
2. It's all anxiety, but she's one of the odd kids who just react negatively to SSRIs due to age, and if we have to try it again in a few years, she might have a different reaction.
3. This is the upswing in a roller coaster that will eventually include the rages again.
He thinks we're looking at option #3, though he'd like to see #1 or #2. We go back in three months or sooner if the symptoms return.
So there's that. Which is good. Never mind that I still feel like I'm on pins and needles around her waiting for the other behavioral shoe to drop, and when she's at home, she's like a leech stuck to my leg that can somehow make its thoughts heard in my head and doesn't SHUT UP. Today, after violin, we got home and she insisted on coming out to the chicken coop with me to collect eggs, add straw, clean out and refill water containers, get mail, etc. Leech. I love her dearly, but sometimes I need five minutes of silence. Five minutes. An eternity of silence in a mom's world.
M1... M1, M1, M1... he's the one that caused all the anguish today. The boy has. no. self-control. NONE! I don't understand it. I can tell my 5-year-old to go do a simple chore like picking up the toys in her room, and she will go, and she will do it, and it will be done, and more often than not, it will be done well. I mean, she's five, she ain't perfect, but she FOCUSES and she TRIES. That's what counts. The boy... the boy would honestly and truly lose his head if it wasn't attached. I think I've mentioned that next year I'm going to have him dress up as the Headless Horseman for Halloween just so I can watch him lose his head.
And he's sneaky.
And he lies.
And he doesn't CARE, because if it doesn't affect him or he doesn't think he'll get caught, it must not be wrong. I thought kids with Asperger's were supposed to be rule-followers. Where on earth did MY kid come from?? Oh, right... rule-followers as long as the rules make sense to them.
Today, he lost a library book. Not a big deal in and of itself. I thought I'd help him look for it, and in the process I found Halloween candy wrappers hidden in a drawer. He tried to lie and say they'd been there a long time, but it's only been a few days since I've opened that drawer, and they weren't there then. He finally owned up, but he lost the rest of his candy. I told him he needed to clean up his room in an effort to find the book, and when I went to check on him, he was playing his sister's Didj. I confiscated that and gave it back to her AND took his Didj as well. Anyone want it? Now that he has a DS (which lives in my room permanently because of this exact issue), he doesn't need the Didj. It comes with a blue plastic 'case.' I'd be happy to sell it to ya. And ship it. The process went like that for the rest of the evening. I gave him a 20-minute warning before it was time for supper, warned him that he needed to get to work on *something,* because he hadn't done squat, but it wasn't motivation enough. Twenty minutes came (with warnings) and went and he was no closer to being done than before. I told him he had thirty minutes to be at the table, gave him multiple warnings in between, and still nothing. I told him that he had 15 minutes if he wanted leftovers; nil. I started yanking allowance bucks, and that finally motivated him a little bit, but he still lost $5 before all was said and done.
The book is still nowhere to be found. Since it's not due till next Wednesday and I can recheck it online up to three times, I figure it'll turn up somewhere between now and then. No worries. My beef is that I do not have the time to stand over an 8-year-old boy and monitor his every move. When I say don't play the electronics, it means DON'T PLAY THE ELECTRONICS. When I say clean your room to look for a book, I mean that, too! I know he hears me; he can repeat verbatim what I tell him to do. But somehow the words don't make it from the ears to the brain. The brain is simply bypassed for the mouth.
Someone tell me that eventually a synapse somewhere will fire and he'll be able to monitor his own actions. Just humor me if you have to. I just need to know that at some point my son is going to quit stealing and ignoring and lying and will actually be able to complete a string of commands or own electronic devices (including flashlights) without a 24-hour monitor. Because if he can't start following rules and laws and commands, that 24-hour monitor is going to be attached to his ankle.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
I promise he's not being cruel...
Let me introduce you to the basics of my son.
He has Asperger's. That means that when he has pictures taken,
he tends to freeze into one position. Notice the lack of emotion on his face? Let me assure you he was a very, very contented boy at that moment, no matter what his face might be telling you.
Now, whether Speed Bump would agree with that whole 'contented' thing is another story.
By the way, meet Speed Bump, the giant Corgi who is becoming less giant and more active by the day. He can run up the back steps now instead of taking five minutes to climb them!
Back to the boy... so Asperger's boy is scientifically-inclined. And he also has ADHD, mixed type, which means impulse issues abound.
And when you combine a massive lack of impulse control with a boy who wants to scientifically test EVERYTHING....
you get...
This.
Let's play a game with this photo. It's called "Find the Whiskers."
That's right... THOSE whiskers. The ones my son trimmed because he had NO idea it was potentially harmful to a cat... and he wanted to see what happened if a cat had short whiskers.
"Mom... make him stop using me as a tester, k? Thx."
Poor Hermes. Thankfully his whiskers will grow back, and... well, this is going to sound horrid, but at least M1 did a wonderfully symmetric job of it, right??? Hermes' jumping abilities haven't been affected in the least, as I verified the day after I discovered the whisker-trimming job when Hermes parked his busybody butt on the top of my 6-ish-foot dresser.
As a girlfriend posted on my Facebook the other day when I mentioned I was having a rough time: "I don't think Einstein's mother had it easy, either."
I like the way her mind works.
He has Asperger's. That means that when he has pictures taken,
he tends to freeze into one position. Notice the lack of emotion on his face? Let me assure you he was a very, very contented boy at that moment, no matter what his face might be telling you.Now, whether Speed Bump would agree with that whole 'contented' thing is another story.
By the way, meet Speed Bump, the giant Corgi who is becoming less giant and more active by the day. He can run up the back steps now instead of taking five minutes to climb them!
Back to the boy... so Asperger's boy is scientifically-inclined. And he also has ADHD, mixed type, which means impulse issues abound.
And when you combine a massive lack of impulse control with a boy who wants to scientifically test EVERYTHING....
you get...
This.Let's play a game with this photo. It's called "Find the Whiskers."
That's right... THOSE whiskers. The ones my son trimmed because he had NO idea it was potentially harmful to a cat... and he wanted to see what happened if a cat had short whiskers.
Poor Hermes. Thankfully his whiskers will grow back, and... well, this is going to sound horrid, but at least M1 did a wonderfully symmetric job of it, right??? Hermes' jumping abilities haven't been affected in the least, as I verified the day after I discovered the whisker-trimming job when Hermes parked his busybody butt on the top of my 6-ish-foot dresser.
As a girlfriend posted on my Facebook the other day when I mentioned I was having a rough time: "I don't think Einstein's mother had it easy, either."
I like the way her mind works.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Dieting, the sensory way
M1 has Asperger's. Well, technically I lie. His "official" diagnoses are pervasive developmental disorder, not otherwise specified; ADHD; and anxiety.
But he was five when those diagnoses were made, and for all intents and purposes, I have discovered that if I treat him with methods for working with Asperger's children, he functions quite well.
And to 'treat' him that way, sometimes I have to cater to his specific needs. He is HIGHLY touch-seeking, especially lately. He can't walk down the hall without rubbing against the walls or through the kitchen without leaning against the counters. I let him bring his fake fox tail to the grocery store today, and it was the best trip ever because rather than messing with everything else, he had the tail to hang on to. I really appreciate my mother buying him that at the Renaissance faire that she took him to last month. She has no idea. I'll have to let her know.
So right now, while he's in the midst of a growth spurt to defy all growth spurts (today for lunch he ate two sandwiches with homemade wheat bread, bologna, lettuce, and tomato followed by half a canteloupe and a huge brownie), he's especially in need of touch. Of course, it has to be the right KIND of touch.
In my quest to keep him busy and satisfy that need, I pulled out "The Out-of-Sync Child Has Fun." Heavens to Betsy, I love that book. It gave me this idea:
Shaving cream!!! Simple idea, right? Completely out of the realm of my meager imagination. M1 dove right in.
M2 was somewhat, shall we say, hesitant.
M1 did try her method.
"And now you put in the flowers, like this, and you make a beautiful blueberry pie."
Not so much. He bailed for more space and sunlight.
And, just like the Energizer bunny, he kept going...
and going... and going.
My girl? Still smoothing. She's more proprioceptive-seeking - LOVES swingsets and roller coasters and amusement parks. This wasn't really her cuppa tea.
But finally... after much persuasion on his part...
... she finally tried it. And BOY did she get into it.
I love it when my kids help each other grow!
But he was five when those diagnoses were made, and for all intents and purposes, I have discovered that if I treat him with methods for working with Asperger's children, he functions quite well.
And to 'treat' him that way, sometimes I have to cater to his specific needs. He is HIGHLY touch-seeking, especially lately. He can't walk down the hall without rubbing against the walls or through the kitchen without leaning against the counters. I let him bring his fake fox tail to the grocery store today, and it was the best trip ever because rather than messing with everything else, he had the tail to hang on to. I really appreciate my mother buying him that at the Renaissance faire that she took him to last month. She has no idea. I'll have to let her know.
So right now, while he's in the midst of a growth spurt to defy all growth spurts (today for lunch he ate two sandwiches with homemade wheat bread, bologna, lettuce, and tomato followed by half a canteloupe and a huge brownie), he's especially in need of touch. Of course, it has to be the right KIND of touch.
In my quest to keep him busy and satisfy that need, I pulled out "The Out-of-Sync Child Has Fun." Heavens to Betsy, I love that book. It gave me this idea:
Shaving cream!!! Simple idea, right? Completely out of the realm of my meager imagination. M1 dove right in.
M2 was somewhat, shall we say, hesitant.
M1 did try her method.
"And now you put in the flowers, like this, and you make a beautiful blueberry pie."
Not so much. He bailed for more space and sunlight.
And, just like the Energizer bunny, he kept going...
and going... and going.
My girl? Still smoothing. She's more proprioceptive-seeking - LOVES swingsets and roller coasters and amusement parks. This wasn't really her cuppa tea.
But finally... after much persuasion on his part...
... she finally tried it. And BOY did she get into it.I love it when my kids help each other grow!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Why I do what I do
Someone posted on a forum that I participate in that they were looking for reasons to continue homeschooling and asked others to please list the reasons that they homeschooled.
Of course, there were many people who have homeschooled from day 1 who have a long list of reasons that schools themselves are evil. I don't think they are, but my son doesn't 'fit' at a school very well, and I love having the opportunity to be able to homeschool. If it doesn't work out, he can always go back, and we'll work around his issues as they arise.
There were also people who had a good list of reasons such as flexible scheduling, saving money, etc. Very, very valid reasons to homeschool were included in these lists, and I'd copy and paste them here if it wouldn't turn this post into a novelette as opposed to a short story.
Very few people mentioned the reasons that I am homeschooling M1. They are out there, I'm sure, but either they have homeschooled from the beginning and never ran into the same issues I have or they just aren't as vocal because they are aware that folks like us are in the minority. Then again, kids like M1 are in the minority, too.
I have mentioned some of these reasons before, so just smack me if I start repeating myself too often. However, without further adieu, I present to you my reasons for homeschooling:
1. I refuse to have my son labeled.
He is a very smart kid and learns quickly, but he has some issues. I could have kept him at the private school he was at, but even there, the teachers and administration were at their wits' end as to how to handle him. He gets disruptive when he's bored. By homeschooling, I'm able to move to the next subject as soon as he finishes one. He loves this. He doesn't do timed tests well at all because he spends so much time worrying about how much time is left that he forgets about the test. Every time I would go in to have a conference with the teacher, she'd tell me that he scored X on a reading test but she actually knew he was at Y level. She also would occasionally send me notes or e-mails asking what to do about a new tic or problem he had developed, like I should be able to tell her how to 'fix' it. Teachers do talk about students like these, and in time, he would have been labeled the special kid. If I had sent him to a public school, or even if I'd continued at the private one, I'd probably have had to set up an IEP, especially regarding handwriting which, by the end of his kindergarten year, was still completely illegible. By bringing him home, I can work with him. I don't need to time anything as long as I can see that he is progressing. I don't have to worry about his tics because they're not bothering anyone. If he knocks over an entire case of blocks, nobody is going to call him clumsy. This brings me to point #2.
2. I refuse to let him be bullied.
He's big for his age, so he often wants to play with the older kids, but they usually reject him after a day or two as 'too weird' and move on. When he plays with kids his age, he can have a hard time toning down the roughness factor and sometimes winds up hurting someone, which he hates doing but can't always control. The girls in his class picked on him because he wasn't able to control himself during class, usually making noises or banging things, which is something that will get better with age but not at the same rate as his peers. He internalizes a lot of things as part of his issues, not realizing that an adult might be able to help, and so I'd often never hear about these incidents until months after they happened. Now that he's home, he loves not having to worry about what anyone is going to do to him or say to him.
3. I refuse to make him spend an entire day in a chair.
He is wiggly. He NEEDS to be able to get up and move. Some educators would argue with me and say that he NEEDS to be able to learn to sit still and work for long periods of time, but that's not true. Sure, if he intends to go to college, he'll have to be able to sit through a lecture and take notes and work, but that's still about 12 years away, and then, for all I know, he'll be training for a job in a field where he can be out working 95% of the time! Not to mention the fact that he can plan classes with large breaks in between. He doesn't need to achieve perfect behavior at the first-grade level, or the second, or the third. He can't do it without going crazy, and I love that I don't have to make him. He rejected a project I had planned for him yesterday because it involved sitting still. Instead, he took the pharaoh's crown that we'd made last week, decorated it, cut out a false beard, taped it to his chin, and pretended to be pharaoh. Not a teacher in the public or private school world could let their entire class just make a project as they pleased, being up and running around while they do it.
4. I don't like medicating him.
Last year, I medicated him. I felt I had to because not only was he considered disruptive in a school setting, he would explode when he got home. I figured out at some point during the year that his explosions were all due to the release of anxiety. I took him off the medication at the end of June, just to see how things would go, and as long as I keep his stress and anxiety level low, he acts like any other very active 6-year-old boy. It's only when he gets worked up that things start to go awry. Timeouts are still a perfect solution for him, especially if I can send him outside where he has lots of space to run off the energy. He was given 'hidey holes' in his kindergarten classroom, but they were small, and he still had to be quiet so that he wasn't disturbing the students who were still working. That doesn't fly for him.
5. I do not believe schools can teach exactly to how my child learns.
My son is very hands-on/visual, as I think most boys tend to be. Teachers, especially as the kids get older, have a hard time tailoring learning to kinesthetic learners. Homeschooling lets me teach the way he learns and, if he isn't getting a concept, I can stop, back up, or change the teaching strategy as needed.
It's very nice to have this opportunity.
Of course, there were many people who have homeschooled from day 1 who have a long list of reasons that schools themselves are evil. I don't think they are, but my son doesn't 'fit' at a school very well, and I love having the opportunity to be able to homeschool. If it doesn't work out, he can always go back, and we'll work around his issues as they arise.
There were also people who had a good list of reasons such as flexible scheduling, saving money, etc. Very, very valid reasons to homeschool were included in these lists, and I'd copy and paste them here if it wouldn't turn this post into a novelette as opposed to a short story.
Very few people mentioned the reasons that I am homeschooling M1. They are out there, I'm sure, but either they have homeschooled from the beginning and never ran into the same issues I have or they just aren't as vocal because they are aware that folks like us are in the minority. Then again, kids like M1 are in the minority, too.
I have mentioned some of these reasons before, so just smack me if I start repeating myself too often. However, without further adieu, I present to you my reasons for homeschooling:
1. I refuse to have my son labeled.
He is a very smart kid and learns quickly, but he has some issues. I could have kept him at the private school he was at, but even there, the teachers and administration were at their wits' end as to how to handle him. He gets disruptive when he's bored. By homeschooling, I'm able to move to the next subject as soon as he finishes one. He loves this. He doesn't do timed tests well at all because he spends so much time worrying about how much time is left that he forgets about the test. Every time I would go in to have a conference with the teacher, she'd tell me that he scored X on a reading test but she actually knew he was at Y level. She also would occasionally send me notes or e-mails asking what to do about a new tic or problem he had developed, like I should be able to tell her how to 'fix' it. Teachers do talk about students like these, and in time, he would have been labeled the special kid. If I had sent him to a public school, or even if I'd continued at the private one, I'd probably have had to set up an IEP, especially regarding handwriting which, by the end of his kindergarten year, was still completely illegible. By bringing him home, I can work with him. I don't need to time anything as long as I can see that he is progressing. I don't have to worry about his tics because they're not bothering anyone. If he knocks over an entire case of blocks, nobody is going to call him clumsy. This brings me to point #2.
2. I refuse to let him be bullied.
He's big for his age, so he often wants to play with the older kids, but they usually reject him after a day or two as 'too weird' and move on. When he plays with kids his age, he can have a hard time toning down the roughness factor and sometimes winds up hurting someone, which he hates doing but can't always control. The girls in his class picked on him because he wasn't able to control himself during class, usually making noises or banging things, which is something that will get better with age but not at the same rate as his peers. He internalizes a lot of things as part of his issues, not realizing that an adult might be able to help, and so I'd often never hear about these incidents until months after they happened. Now that he's home, he loves not having to worry about what anyone is going to do to him or say to him.
3. I refuse to make him spend an entire day in a chair.
He is wiggly. He NEEDS to be able to get up and move. Some educators would argue with me and say that he NEEDS to be able to learn to sit still and work for long periods of time, but that's not true. Sure, if he intends to go to college, he'll have to be able to sit through a lecture and take notes and work, but that's still about 12 years away, and then, for all I know, he'll be training for a job in a field where he can be out working 95% of the time! Not to mention the fact that he can plan classes with large breaks in between. He doesn't need to achieve perfect behavior at the first-grade level, or the second, or the third. He can't do it without going crazy, and I love that I don't have to make him. He rejected a project I had planned for him yesterday because it involved sitting still. Instead, he took the pharaoh's crown that we'd made last week, decorated it, cut out a false beard, taped it to his chin, and pretended to be pharaoh. Not a teacher in the public or private school world could let their entire class just make a project as they pleased, being up and running around while they do it.
4. I don't like medicating him.
Last year, I medicated him. I felt I had to because not only was he considered disruptive in a school setting, he would explode when he got home. I figured out at some point during the year that his explosions were all due to the release of anxiety. I took him off the medication at the end of June, just to see how things would go, and as long as I keep his stress and anxiety level low, he acts like any other very active 6-year-old boy. It's only when he gets worked up that things start to go awry. Timeouts are still a perfect solution for him, especially if I can send him outside where he has lots of space to run off the energy. He was given 'hidey holes' in his kindergarten classroom, but they were small, and he still had to be quiet so that he wasn't disturbing the students who were still working. That doesn't fly for him.
5. I do not believe schools can teach exactly to how my child learns.
My son is very hands-on/visual, as I think most boys tend to be. Teachers, especially as the kids get older, have a hard time tailoring learning to kinesthetic learners. Homeschooling lets me teach the way he learns and, if he isn't getting a concept, I can stop, back up, or change the teaching strategy as needed.
It's very nice to have this opportunity.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Life - Stress =
It's summer vacation, and so M1 and M2 are both home full-time. We've been going crazy with all the activities that we've been doing - swimming, day trips, playdates, errands, etc. We've only had maybe 3 full days where we didn't go somewhere all of summer vacation so far. It's been less than a month, but still. Three is a very small number!
Last week, just because I'm sadistic and like to torture myself occasionally, I decided that M1 could come off of his ADHD meds for a few days. Initially it was because he's just getting scary-thin and I wanted to see if he'd start eating like the boy I *USED* to feed... you know, the one who ate more than me at every meal.
He has, by the way. Yesterday at Red Robin he ate an entire kids' pizza, his oranges, sucked down his freckled lemonade, AND ate a full helping of fries. It's doing my heart good to see his little face start to fill back out.
He also has been... well... NORMAL. It's been completely bizarre, but he's almost acting like a NORMAL 6-1/2-year-old. There has been only one day where he just about lost it and was acting like a complete and total dodo, and that was the day we had friends over here and so I spent the morning cleaning the house. Did you know cleaning the house can apparently stress out a 6-1/2-year-old boy? I do now.
Maybe I should never clean again.
Kidding, of course, but that has been the only horribly rough day we've had since he's been off his medication. We even went to a Blue Bell ice cream factory tour yesterday AND went to lunch at Red Robin afterwards, and when I told one of my friends he was unmedicated, she was totally blown away. He wasn't boucing off the seat at all.
Keep in mind that this is my kid who has been diagnosed with ADHD, PDD-NOS, and anxiety.
I think he just might actually not be ADHD. I think he's just a little Aspie, which means his problems are entirely social. This mix-up is pretty common, where a kid will be diagnosed with ADHD as a youngster and 'grow into' an Asperger's diagnoses as they age.
So I shall continued to keep the meds handy, but as long as I can keep the stress level low...
Here's to a medication-free boy!
Last week, just because I'm sadistic and like to torture myself occasionally, I decided that M1 could come off of his ADHD meds for a few days. Initially it was because he's just getting scary-thin and I wanted to see if he'd start eating like the boy I *USED* to feed... you know, the one who ate more than me at every meal.
He has, by the way. Yesterday at Red Robin he ate an entire kids' pizza, his oranges, sucked down his freckled lemonade, AND ate a full helping of fries. It's doing my heart good to see his little face start to fill back out.
He also has been... well... NORMAL. It's been completely bizarre, but he's almost acting like a NORMAL 6-1/2-year-old. There has been only one day where he just about lost it and was acting like a complete and total dodo, and that was the day we had friends over here and so I spent the morning cleaning the house. Did you know cleaning the house can apparently stress out a 6-1/2-year-old boy? I do now.
Maybe I should never clean again.
Kidding, of course, but that has been the only horribly rough day we've had since he's been off his medication. We even went to a Blue Bell ice cream factory tour yesterday AND went to lunch at Red Robin afterwards, and when I told one of my friends he was unmedicated, she was totally blown away. He wasn't boucing off the seat at all.
Keep in mind that this is my kid who has been diagnosed with ADHD, PDD-NOS, and anxiety.
I think he just might actually not be ADHD. I think he's just a little Aspie, which means his problems are entirely social. This mix-up is pretty common, where a kid will be diagnosed with ADHD as a youngster and 'grow into' an Asperger's diagnoses as they age.
So I shall continued to keep the meds handy, but as long as I can keep the stress level low...
Here's to a medication-free boy!
Saturday, February 28, 2009
What this blog is *really* for
OK, really I would love to say that this blog is for the admirable goal of watching my son grow and change through my wonderful homeschool efforts. However, I do think it's worth more than that. Sometimes I just might use it to dump everything on here and make you people suffer through my day - I'm such a great person like that. Vent, feel better. My modus operandi. Leave now if you're not in the mood for someone else's crappy day. I won't know, and I won't be offended!
M1 didn't have his meds today. We didn't forget - it was just that he only has enough pills to get us to Tuesday, and our appointment isn't until Wednesday after school, and there is no way I am sending him to school unmedicated. He'd probably be sent home by 9 a.m. I probably could have gotten the doctor to just call him in another month's worth (we can only get a prescription for one month at a time), but I really want to talk to her.
And, feeling somewhat insane, I figured it'd be a good idea to see how he was progressing without meds.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!
If I ever start thinking like that again, do smack me upside the head and remind me of this entry, please!
I also needed to run errands today - the ones I couldn't run on Thursday - which included going to Gardner's (I'd never been there), the Apple Tree (wanted to see what exactly they had), Sam's Club, and Reasor's.
The kids and I left the house about 9:30 after it took absolutely forever for M1 to get ready to go (DH was still sleeping). We hit Gardner's first. I can't say the kids were horrid there, just excited. I let the kids pick out two books each because children's books were BOGO, and then we found a couple of other books that I just 'had' to have. If we had totaled up everything, we should have paid about $40 to get out of there. But because the kids' books were BOGO, there was a discount on one of the books I picked out, and we hit a purchase amount that automatically gave us a discount, too, the grand total with tax was $23! I'm not a couponer, but I loved that. And the lady there told us that if you save your receipts and get $100 worth of pre-tax purchases, they'll give you $15 worth of merchandise free! I'm sure we'll be back. I'm such a nerd.
Then we hit Apple Tree, and that's when it started to get difficult. I wanted to see what they had and also get M1 a workbook to take to school, but when M1 got something, M2 started whining that she needed something, too. Whine whine whine. Whine. Whine some more. Did I mention she was whiny??? So we left.
Sam's parking lot was packed, so we skipped that and went straight to Reasor's as I was not in a mood to stand in lines. Now, I hate grocery shopping with both kids on a good day, but I'd have to say this was not a good day. M1 went completely bonkers. It started in the produce section when he and M2 started smacking each other. I separated them and kept moving. Then he went 100% OCD. He wouldn't step on the lines. He wouldn't step on the reflections of the lights on the tiles. He wouldn't quit doing either of those (I honestly don't think he could stop himself). It wasn't bad for a while, but then he quit paying attention to people around him and began running into people and wandering off because he was so far gone that he wasn't noticing that I'd turned a corner and kept going. When we finally made it to the checkout, I had to take M2 out of the cart. And the kids instantly got into a smacking fit! My jaw just about dropped. I felt like the biggest redneck!
I couldn't wait to get home.
The rest of the day was better since we were at home, at least until bedtime, when I discovered that M1 hadn't done his laundry on Friday and had stashed it in his closet and under his bed instead. He'll regret that by Tuesday when he's out of pants because I'm holding the laundry hostage for a week.
I'm so glad that the meds come back tomorrow! I can't wait to go to the psychologist on Monday and the pediatrician on Wednesday. At least I know for sure that the meds are doing wonderful, wonderful things for him!
M1 didn't have his meds today. We didn't forget - it was just that he only has enough pills to get us to Tuesday, and our appointment isn't until Wednesday after school, and there is no way I am sending him to school unmedicated. He'd probably be sent home by 9 a.m. I probably could have gotten the doctor to just call him in another month's worth (we can only get a prescription for one month at a time), but I really want to talk to her.
And, feeling somewhat insane, I figured it'd be a good idea to see how he was progressing without meds.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!
If I ever start thinking like that again, do smack me upside the head and remind me of this entry, please!
I also needed to run errands today - the ones I couldn't run on Thursday - which included going to Gardner's (I'd never been there), the Apple Tree (wanted to see what exactly they had), Sam's Club, and Reasor's.
The kids and I left the house about 9:30 after it took absolutely forever for M1 to get ready to go (DH was still sleeping). We hit Gardner's first. I can't say the kids were horrid there, just excited. I let the kids pick out two books each because children's books were BOGO, and then we found a couple of other books that I just 'had' to have. If we had totaled up everything, we should have paid about $40 to get out of there. But because the kids' books were BOGO, there was a discount on one of the books I picked out, and we hit a purchase amount that automatically gave us a discount, too, the grand total with tax was $23! I'm not a couponer, but I loved that. And the lady there told us that if you save your receipts and get $100 worth of pre-tax purchases, they'll give you $15 worth of merchandise free! I'm sure we'll be back. I'm such a nerd.
Then we hit Apple Tree, and that's when it started to get difficult. I wanted to see what they had and also get M1 a workbook to take to school, but when M1 got something, M2 started whining that she needed something, too. Whine whine whine. Whine. Whine some more. Did I mention she was whiny??? So we left.
Sam's parking lot was packed, so we skipped that and went straight to Reasor's as I was not in a mood to stand in lines. Now, I hate grocery shopping with both kids on a good day, but I'd have to say this was not a good day. M1 went completely bonkers. It started in the produce section when he and M2 started smacking each other. I separated them and kept moving. Then he went 100% OCD. He wouldn't step on the lines. He wouldn't step on the reflections of the lights on the tiles. He wouldn't quit doing either of those (I honestly don't think he could stop himself). It wasn't bad for a while, but then he quit paying attention to people around him and began running into people and wandering off because he was so far gone that he wasn't noticing that I'd turned a corner and kept going. When we finally made it to the checkout, I had to take M2 out of the cart. And the kids instantly got into a smacking fit! My jaw just about dropped. I felt like the biggest redneck!
I couldn't wait to get home.
The rest of the day was better since we were at home, at least until bedtime, when I discovered that M1 hadn't done his laundry on Friday and had stashed it in his closet and under his bed instead. He'll regret that by Tuesday when he's out of pants because I'm holding the laundry hostage for a week.
I'm so glad that the meds come back tomorrow! I can't wait to go to the psychologist on Monday and the pediatrician on Wednesday. At least I know for sure that the meds are doing wonderful, wonderful things for him!
Monday, February 23, 2009
Thinking and pondering
No pictures tonight - just an entry. Nothing fancy.
I'm pondering occupational therapy for the boy. Or an anti-anxiety medication. Or something. I'm not sure.
I feel the need to explain and justify. To myself, mostly, and writing is calming for me. You're just subjected to it. As always.
Moving on. His ADHD is under control. He is quite calm during the day and will happily sit down and write a story or create a book. He can sit still for a good 15-20 minutes and do reading lessons. Attention is no longer a problem, and I'm thrilled silly with that. I can remember him bouncing and running and carrying on like nothing else, and the fact that this is controlled gives me much to be thankful for.
However.
He's still having anxiety attacks. They're rarer and more random (like when he got 3/4 of the way up a playplace sort of structure at the Seminole children's museum and then lost it because he didn't want the wires to touch him... which is what holds the thing up and they're spaced an inch or two apart the entire way), but they're there. That one was a touch issue.
And then there's the flipping out. His psychologist pointed out long ago that she thought he might have some sort of sensory processing disorder. I had always kind of dismissed it after reading about it, thinking that all of his quirks were attributable to ADHD or anxiety and the combination of them working together.
Now part of me wonders if the anxiety is caused by the sensory issue. Specifically, I think he has an auditory processing disorder where noises and the spoken word are literally too much for him. He's always been more frightened of loud noises than other kids typically are. The vacuum was terrifying for him (and he still runs out of the room when I turn it on). He would cry at the sound of my mini-food processor. When we went to the Air and Space Museum on Saturday, they had what they call a 'space maneuvering unit' which has air thrusters like an astronaut's suit. It runs on pressurized air, and the point is to move the unit so that a laser light points at a specific target. It's loud. The boy simply shut down. He wasn't scared of it, but it was just too loud for him. He covered his ears, squinted his eyes shut, and flat refused to move/talk/function until the sound quit. He got over it after a while and even used the unit, but for a bit I thought we would have to leave because of it. If I give him more than two simple directions (or even one direction while he's doing something else), he can't remember/function and starts yelling at me to stop talking at him.
I think there are other issues going on -touch has always been a unique thing for him, since he gets great satisfaction out of strong pressure or back scratchers - but I do think the auditory processing issues are a big chunk of things, too.
So I think I'll talk to his psychologist when we go in next week and talk to his pediatrician about the same. We won't start any sort of therapy till summer because there's no sense in starting another process before the end of the school year, but if there's a process involved with insurance and a waiting list at the therapy place, it's best to get started now. Right?
Thanks for listening :)
I'm pondering occupational therapy for the boy. Or an anti-anxiety medication. Or something. I'm not sure.
I feel the need to explain and justify. To myself, mostly, and writing is calming for me. You're just subjected to it. As always.
Moving on. His ADHD is under control. He is quite calm during the day and will happily sit down and write a story or create a book. He can sit still for a good 15-20 minutes and do reading lessons. Attention is no longer a problem, and I'm thrilled silly with that. I can remember him bouncing and running and carrying on like nothing else, and the fact that this is controlled gives me much to be thankful for.
However.
He's still having anxiety attacks. They're rarer and more random (like when he got 3/4 of the way up a playplace sort of structure at the Seminole children's museum and then lost it because he didn't want the wires to touch him... which is what holds the thing up and they're spaced an inch or two apart the entire way), but they're there. That one was a touch issue.
And then there's the flipping out. His psychologist pointed out long ago that she thought he might have some sort of sensory processing disorder. I had always kind of dismissed it after reading about it, thinking that all of his quirks were attributable to ADHD or anxiety and the combination of them working together.
Now part of me wonders if the anxiety is caused by the sensory issue. Specifically, I think he has an auditory processing disorder where noises and the spoken word are literally too much for him. He's always been more frightened of loud noises than other kids typically are. The vacuum was terrifying for him (and he still runs out of the room when I turn it on). He would cry at the sound of my mini-food processor. When we went to the Air and Space Museum on Saturday, they had what they call a 'space maneuvering unit' which has air thrusters like an astronaut's suit. It runs on pressurized air, and the point is to move the unit so that a laser light points at a specific target. It's loud. The boy simply shut down. He wasn't scared of it, but it was just too loud for him. He covered his ears, squinted his eyes shut, and flat refused to move/talk/function until the sound quit. He got over it after a while and even used the unit, but for a bit I thought we would have to leave because of it. If I give him more than two simple directions (or even one direction while he's doing something else), he can't remember/function and starts yelling at me to stop talking at him.
I think there are other issues going on -touch has always been a unique thing for him, since he gets great satisfaction out of strong pressure or back scratchers - but I do think the auditory processing issues are a big chunk of things, too.
So I think I'll talk to his psychologist when we go in next week and talk to his pediatrician about the same. We won't start any sort of therapy till summer because there's no sense in starting another process before the end of the school year, but if there's a process involved with insurance and a waiting list at the therapy place, it's best to get started now. Right?
Thanks for listening :)
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