I don't usually do this, and I don't think it'll be a typical 'thing' that I do, but I read other blogs whose authors do this, and I'm rather inspired this week. So…
Outside My Window:
It's sunny and cool today. It was really quite warm this weekend and very windy for a cookout on Saturday night, but the weather today is more seasonally appropriate. I'm keeping a close eye on the weather for Thanksgiving, though. I'd love snow, but I don't want people driving in it for the holiday. Catch-22.
In My Yard:
The trees are nearly naked. I dug up my giant rosemary plant and tucked it into the garage before the hard freeze last weekend, and I'm glad I did. It's actually too big for my biggest pot, but I made it fit for now. If I can manage to make it live through the winter and can replant it in the yard next spring, I'll probably just try to cover it next winter and see what happens.
In My Home:
Thanksgiving decorations are out, and the cats are extremely hopped up on nip at the moment. A year or so ago, when we went to Kansas City, I picked up a catnip-stuffed mouse for the cats from a store called Gatos. The cats loved it. One of my cats loves this mouse so much she hauls it around all the time and will sit for hours with it between her paws. Ergo, this mouse is called "Boyfriend Mouse." Boyfriend Mouse, however, has been looking kind of sad lately, so I got on the Interwebz and hunted down more. This time, I ordered three. They arrived today. That's a lot of happy cat lolling around my living room right now.
The kids are upstairs. Doodlebug is finishing up school, and Boo is bugging him so he can't focus. She just requested a sinus rinse because she couldn't breathe. How they can tolerate those things, I'll never know, but they swear they help. The drowned-rat feeling deters me.
In My Kitchen:
Turkey pot pie is on the menu tonight. Over the weekend the kids and I made sticky buns, and because I can't read a recipe, I made two pans instead of three… but with the same amount of dough. Because of that, they're obscenely gooey… and I had to put some of the dough in individual pie tins just because there wasn't room. Next time I'll know better. Later this week I'm going to try some new recipes like beer brat chili and jalapeño cream cheese Philly cheesesteak sliders. (If you can't see those recipes, I apologize… some of them may be exclusive to Taste of Home magazine subscribers. I would be happy to e-mail them to you if you're interested, though!)
Crafty Stuff:
I've started a new, giant project. It's a cross-stitch project for Doodlebug's room. He wants to redecorate, and now that he's stopped demolishing furniture and scratching tic-tac-toe symbols into the walls, I'm considering it. He wants a gray/black color scheme - black Ikea furniture, gray walls - and wants this to hang on his wall. I'm taking bets on when I'll be finished with it. I've had people suggest time frames everywhere from February (uh… no) to "about the time [Doodlebug's] finished with high school." That's probably a closer approximation. I've finished two colors and have started on the third… not that that means much. I think it'll probably take me till summer to complete, depending on how often I actually sit down and work on it.
In Our Homeschool:
We're about halfway done with our school year. We'll take next week off for Thanksgiving, and the week we come back will be our second interest week. Boo has decided she wants to study food; Doodlebug hasn't chosen a topic yet. We're studying worms in science this week, the New Kingdom of Egypt (i.e. King Tut) in history, and I uploaded Rosetta Stone Spanish (Latin America) onto the computer today. That turned out to be an epic journey. I already had Rosetta Stone German on the computer, so I just added the Spanish to it… but when I went to register the curriculum, it didn't give me the option to add the homeschool code. It just asked me for an 'upgrade' code and then wouldn't accept the homeschool code that I had. I wound up calling and talking to a very patient (and fairly clear-spoken) tech support guy from India. It took him a bit before he worked out that the version of Rosetta Stone I already had on the computer (Totale, or version 4) was too advanced for the homeschool curriculum that they still sell (version 3). So now I have two versions of Rosetta Stone. *shrug* Technology. Not really my gig.
In Our Lives:
The kids are fighting now. I swear that's all they do. They can't even pour bowls of breakfast cereal without sniping at one another. We're still using the respect jar - actually just went out last night for their reward for filling it - but it hasn't helped Doodlebug one bit. One of my friends said today that her boys have been doing the same thing - sort of a male lion domination thing that her her dad calls "testosterone flashes" - and it's driving me crazy. He has to be right EVERY time, and if he's not, he'll bully his sister or run his mouth to me and/or Oz until he gets himself in trouble. That appointment with the counselor can't come quickly enough. *insert virtual pause here* I just broke up the second fight between them. Doodlebug wanted to play Monopoly and Boo agreed if she could be banker, which Doodlebug initially agreed to and then decided he thought it would be too hard for Boo. He thought he was being nice; she was angry that he took the job away from her. Had to side with her on this one and tell him that he needed to let her try and decide for herself whether it would be too hard or not. She's perfectly capable of doing the math; she'll just be slower than he wants to deal with. I'm sure that's where the rub comes in. Ugh. Time to bury myself in something else - cross-stitching or dinner.
How are things in your neck of the woods?
Showing posts with label behavior. Show all posts
Showing posts with label behavior. Show all posts
Monday, November 18, 2013
Monday, August 26, 2013
Chronicles of Raising a Preadolescent, Vol. I
The last three weeks have been hell. At first I thought it was me, since I really had been in a funk, but the last three weeks have been particularly 'special' and I'm pretty sure I've figured out why.
And it has a name. What is it, you ask?
M1.
I love this child. I do. I have loved him ever since he had to be dragged out of my womb kicking and screaming. However, I swear to any deity willing to listen, I totally understand why young male lions are kicked out of the pride and told to go find their own territory because MOM AND DAD AREN'T PUTTING UP WITH IT ANY MORE. Hear me, boy? Do ya? Hm?
Something tells me I'm not getting through.
It might be the smirk.
It's 1:01 p.m. on a Monday. This is a school day. The boy has completed his work in precisely three subjects - grammar, spelling, and art - and even those weren't completed without waspishness and peevishness and snarkiness and all those other -nesses that encompass raising a child who is quite sure that A) the universe revolves around him, B) he knows more than anyone ever alive ever knew, and C) he must have the last word in any and all conversations.
For example, this morning, he tried to argue that newspapers weren't descriptive. We weren't talking about newspapers, and he was supposed to have been working on his own work, but he felt the need to interject one of his Ultimate Hypotheses into M2's grammar lesson. "I think article adjectives are called that because they're the only adjectives used in newspaper articles, because newspapers aren't very descriptive."
I can't invent this stuff. Thankfully a quick reading of some articles from well-known moments in history - the Civil War, 9/11, the Kennedy assassination - showed the boy the error of his statement. Did he actually acknowledge that I still might know more than him? Of course not. He put his head down on his desk and thoroughly ignored me. Because if it can't see you, you can't see it. Mantra of all Ostrich Children.
Then there was this: I was giving him his weekly spelling pretest. We do this so that if he knows most of or all of the words on the list, we don't waste time on a useless lesson. One of the words was 'animosity.' He spelled it incorrectly - a-n-a-m-o-c-i-t-y. Not a big deal; I put a dot by it and moved on. When it came time for him to learn the correct spelling, I pointed out that he'd gotten close and gave him props for that. Was that enough? Hardly. "It sounded like you were saying anAmosity, Mom, not anImosity. So that wasn't my fault."
Argh. Animosity. Yes. How do parents survive this? Any tips? I'm going to need the village for this one.
And it has a name. What is it, you ask?
M1.
 |
| Mug shot of personified Mayhem |
Something tells me I'm not getting through.
It might be the smirk.
It's 1:01 p.m. on a Monday. This is a school day. The boy has completed his work in precisely three subjects - grammar, spelling, and art - and even those weren't completed without waspishness and peevishness and snarkiness and all those other -nesses that encompass raising a child who is quite sure that A) the universe revolves around him, B) he knows more than anyone ever alive ever knew, and C) he must have the last word in any and all conversations.
For example, this morning, he tried to argue that newspapers weren't descriptive. We weren't talking about newspapers, and he was supposed to have been working on his own work, but he felt the need to interject one of his Ultimate Hypotheses into M2's grammar lesson. "I think article adjectives are called that because they're the only adjectives used in newspaper articles, because newspapers aren't very descriptive."
I can't invent this stuff. Thankfully a quick reading of some articles from well-known moments in history - the Civil War, 9/11, the Kennedy assassination - showed the boy the error of his statement. Did he actually acknowledge that I still might know more than him? Of course not. He put his head down on his desk and thoroughly ignored me. Because if it can't see you, you can't see it. Mantra of all Ostrich Children.
Then there was this: I was giving him his weekly spelling pretest. We do this so that if he knows most of or all of the words on the list, we don't waste time on a useless lesson. One of the words was 'animosity.' He spelled it incorrectly - a-n-a-m-o-c-i-t-y. Not a big deal; I put a dot by it and moved on. When it came time for him to learn the correct spelling, I pointed out that he'd gotten close and gave him props for that. Was that enough? Hardly. "It sounded like you were saying anAmosity, Mom, not anImosity. So that wasn't my fault."
Argh. Animosity. Yes. How do parents survive this? Any tips? I'm going to need the village for this one.
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.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Summer is NOT a Picnic
This was supposed to be the first week of summer vacation. I had several things mentally planned - splash pad, blueberry picking, maybe a trip to the pool. But around 7 o'clock tonight, M1 changed our plans for us. He is grounded for the duration of the week. Unless someone can come up with a more inventive punishment for what he did, anyway... I'm fresh out of ideas.
I had gone outside to water some garden transplants that we'd picked up from my dad's house this afternoon; Oz came out just as I was finishing up so he could mow the lawn. I walked into the house less than a minute after Oz came out and was greeted by a panicked girl: "MOM, M1 climbed onto the coffee table and jumped onto the couch!"
My first reaction was to make sure that nothing broke - our coffee table has a glass top, and somehow I doubt it's been built to withstand 90-some-odd pounds of boy jumping off of it. "Is he hurt?"
"No, it didn't break. But he thinks it's funny... and he almost landed on me!"
Thank heaven for small mercies... but what do you do with a child who deliberately waits for the minute he thinks he can get away with things like this... and then DOES them?? Clearly he's not ready to be left alone in the house, not even for a minute. And I could 'tomato stake' him, but I'm also not up for that level of personal torture. I love my kids, love being around them... not my philosophical cuppa tea. So he's grounded.
Oh, he'll get to come out for certain things - chores, meals, bathroom breaks, errands and previously-planned engagements such as a field trip to the local animal shelter. And if he demonstrates good behavior, I'm happy to let him earn rewards like listening to our read-aloud in the evening or 30 minutes of playtime with his sister. By and large, however, his week won't be the fun-filled time it could have been.
He does know better. The minute I hollered his first, middle and last name, he knew what he was in for. He's never been punished so harshly for anything EVER, and that's saying something, because he's done some really stupid things in the past, like the time he drilled a hole through his bedroom closet wall and into his sister's room with a drumstick or the time he put a rubber band around a cat's paw and forgot about it or the time he carved tic-tac-toe grids into the headboard of his bed using a screwdriver or the time he peed in his nightstand drawer, but I'm really, REALLY sick and tired of dealing with it, especially because these days I get not only the misbehavior but also the "I don't care/you can't make me/it's all your fault" brattitude that goes along with it. The only rule in this house that I've ever insisted that the kids follow 100% of the time is the Golden Rule, and even he admitted that he wouldn't want me jumping off of his furniture if he'd paid for it, and he sure wouldn't like it if I disobeyed him the minute his back was turned.
Argh. The logic makes it from the brain to the mouth, but it never makes it from brain to musculoskeletal system.
It'd be really easy for me to stop and say that it's all due to his ADHD or his Asperger's or whatever, but that'd be a load of crap. His ADHD is medicated to the point that he can choose his behavior, and his Asperger's has no bearing whatsoever on the current incident other than he really doesn't care about anything outside of his own little Circle of Me.
So he's grounded.
M2 and I are going to have a great mother-daughter week!
I had gone outside to water some garden transplants that we'd picked up from my dad's house this afternoon; Oz came out just as I was finishing up so he could mow the lawn. I walked into the house less than a minute after Oz came out and was greeted by a panicked girl: "MOM, M1 climbed onto the coffee table and jumped onto the couch!"
My first reaction was to make sure that nothing broke - our coffee table has a glass top, and somehow I doubt it's been built to withstand 90-some-odd pounds of boy jumping off of it. "Is he hurt?"
"No, it didn't break. But he thinks it's funny... and he almost landed on me!"
Thank heaven for small mercies... but what do you do with a child who deliberately waits for the minute he thinks he can get away with things like this... and then DOES them?? Clearly he's not ready to be left alone in the house, not even for a minute. And I could 'tomato stake' him, but I'm also not up for that level of personal torture. I love my kids, love being around them... not my philosophical cuppa tea. So he's grounded.
Oh, he'll get to come out for certain things - chores, meals, bathroom breaks, errands and previously-planned engagements such as a field trip to the local animal shelter. And if he demonstrates good behavior, I'm happy to let him earn rewards like listening to our read-aloud in the evening or 30 minutes of playtime with his sister. By and large, however, his week won't be the fun-filled time it could have been.
He does know better. The minute I hollered his first, middle and last name, he knew what he was in for. He's never been punished so harshly for anything EVER, and that's saying something, because he's done some really stupid things in the past, like the time he drilled a hole through his bedroom closet wall and into his sister's room with a drumstick or the time he put a rubber band around a cat's paw and forgot about it or the time he carved tic-tac-toe grids into the headboard of his bed using a screwdriver or the time he peed in his nightstand drawer, but I'm really, REALLY sick and tired of dealing with it, especially because these days I get not only the misbehavior but also the "I don't care/you can't make me/it's all your fault" brattitude that goes along with it. The only rule in this house that I've ever insisted that the kids follow 100% of the time is the Golden Rule, and even he admitted that he wouldn't want me jumping off of his furniture if he'd paid for it, and he sure wouldn't like it if I disobeyed him the minute his back was turned.
Argh. The logic makes it from the brain to the mouth, but it never makes it from brain to musculoskeletal system.
It'd be really easy for me to stop and say that it's all due to his ADHD or his Asperger's or whatever, but that'd be a load of crap. His ADHD is medicated to the point that he can choose his behavior, and his Asperger's has no bearing whatsoever on the current incident other than he really doesn't care about anything outside of his own little Circle of Me.
So he's grounded.
M2 and I are going to have a great mother-daughter week!
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