Let's Talk Lunch

I'm in a mood that isn't conducive to writing anything meaningful.  It's been a rough week.

I tried a little experiment with Big Boy this past week.

I've been an advocate of the gluten free diet.  I agree that artificial food dyes cause hyperactivity and aggression in children.  Not to be a hypocrite, I put Big Boy on a gluten free diet this week, in addition to his no artificial food dyes (which has been working for over a year).

I knew it had to be more fun.  I couldn't expect him to be okay without his really good bread and all the same accouterments.  So, I took a page from the traditional Bento Box lunch and found a divided container with a freezer pack lid.

Packing these lunches are much more fun for me, than the traditional "throw stuff in a baggie" lunch bag.  I saved four snack sized baggies that I normally would have used in this lunch.  Also eliminated the packaging on the Luna Protein Bar and the Baby Bell Light Cheese.

And the results?  He loved the presentation.  Liked most of the foods.  Everything but the bread.

That's how it is with gluten free.  Everything but the bread.  Now, I will contend that the bread used in his lunches was pretty good, it's not gluten bread.  There isn't a match for pre-made gluten free bread as of this day.  They are close, but not quite.  For me, I don't care.  I like my rolls and I always warm them, so I don't have an issue with cold, hard, stiff bread.

And most importantly...did removing the gluten benefit Big Boy's demeanor?

No.  Not at all.

In fact, this has been a pretty horrible week.  Anger, defiance, talking back, repetitions.  It's been a rough one.

So, tomorrow, it's back to real bread for the boy.  Maybe he'll cheer up.

Open Book

 

One thing that bugs me about blogs is when life is perfect for the blogger.

Life is never perfect. As a reader, I want the joys and the heartache.

Today, I'm here to tell you about both of mine these past couple weeks.

Big Boy said it was okay for me to write about this today. He doesn't feel any different, so not even sure of my question.

In February, as a result of BB's IEP preparation, we met with a Nueropyschologist to work with Sam for nearly six hours over two days. She tested, talked, questioned, and became confused and charmed by our boy.

Two weeks ago, we got a diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome for our son.

This is not shocking to me, as I often questioned the ADHD diagnosis that was made by a doctor that believed everything that came from BB's mouth was honest. I still cringe at the mention of his name.

The joy I share with you today is immense. We have so much more support with an Autism diagnosis than we did with an ADHD diagnosis. I am joyful that when BB behaves undesirably, I am a bit more patient and understanding. I am very grateful for my patience. It's come in handy the weeks following the diagnosis, so many left messages and emails, so much waiting.

And this of course holds a bit of heartbreak as well. I wanted the best for my boy. I didn't want him to have to struggle. I wanted him to always fit in and be the "cool" kid. I wanted him to be willing to try anything.

Don't get me wrong, I know he can do many things. With the additional services he is now receiving, he will show me that all my dreams for him will not only come true, but I will be astounded with what he will accomplish.

A Moment Like This

After all the drama of the days before.

Many meltdowns.

Double defiance.

There are times like this when I look at this boy and my heart melts.

He is doing what he loves. He is happy.

He didn't wear a hat today because he wanted messy hair.

My heart is melting for this boy. I love him so.

No Wire Hangers

I dropped the F bomb tonight.

Bad Mommy.

I couldn't take it anymore. He pushed and pushed and didn't do a simple every day task.

I gave them both some extra time to play because the homework was done quickly, correctly and with only one prompt, success in my book.

But, after they played and goofed around, "shower time" came. And was stalled, "just one more minute"; "almost done"; "it's his turn to go first"; "wait, mom, one more...". This went on for 30 minutes. Big Boy got upstairs and it was 20 minutes when it happened.

"Get in the fucking shower."

As bad as it sounds, it worked. It wasn't the first or twentieth time he heard the word and it won't be the last. I rarely swear in front of the boys, but there are times when being nice and gentle just don't work.

He got in the shower. He cried. And came out with a smile. I apologized, explained myself, and told him I loved him, no matter what.

Then I had a glass of wine.

Am I alone?

The Secret Society

I have a son with ADHD.

I have another son with Epilepsy.

The ADHD was diagnosed in the summer of 2010.

The Epilepsy was diagnosed in the summer of 2012.

Why do I feel more knowledgeable with epilepsy than I do with the ADHD?

It isn't for lack of reading and experimenting and testing.  I've done it all.  The last Psychologist said, "Well, I don't really think we can do anything for [Big Boy], you are already implementing everything I would suggest."

Why is it that when I talk to anyone (other than a close friend) about ADHD and the fact that my son HAS it, do they lower their voice?  It happened the other day at the school.  I was talking to a school employee and she lowered her voice so that the other person couldn't hear.  It wasn't so that we wouldn't disturb anyone.  (I don't question this employees whispering, I happen to think she will be the key to Big Boy's success.)  Why whisper?  Are we as society ashamed of ADHD?

It really hit me that day.  ADHD is a Secret Society.  As a mom, I've felt alone.  Abandoned.  Fighting our own family battle to get some help for our son.  No parent has ever come up to me and said, "Hey, you look like you may be struggling with [Big Boy], I want you to know my son, daughter, nephew, neighbor, etc. has ADHD and it's nothing to be ashamed of."

Many years ago I went to an Adult Education class on finding your Spiritual Angels.  I know, corny, but I've always felt connected to the spiritual world and I was grasping at straws for answers and guidance, so tried everything.  While immersed in meditation in this class, I began to cry.  I had connected with 'something/someone' and I could hear myself feeling guilty for the ADHD diagnosis.  That was the first bombshell.  I actually felt responsible.  The classmates helped me understand that it is nothing to feel guilty about.  Feeling guilty adds a great unnecessary burden.  A burden that sticks in the mud and doesn't bring anything positive to the situation.

And the second bombshell is the whispering.  Why must we whisper?

ADHD is a is a neurobehavioral disorder. Guess what?  Epilepsy is a chronic neurological disorder.  So why does saying "my kid has epilepsy" vs. "my kid has ADHD" garner totally different responses?  Granted, ADHD doesn't involve seizures, but both have a medication, both are neurological, and both affect learning.

ADHD isn't a nasty cold sore you try to cover up.  It isn't an excuse to defend my poor parenting skills.  It needs to be nurtured and cared for by not only the parents, but teachers and friends, too.  How can others even begin to understand the needs of my son if no one knows he has this disorder? 

I used to be worried about the ADHD label.  I think the stigma of labeling of kids has decreased as the frequency of kids that need extra help has increased.  Was I worried or ashamed of the label?

Screw the label.  Label away.

My kid needs help and I'm not going to whisper anymore.

 

 

174/366: Parenting

Two weeks ago, Little Man had a Sing-Along and Author's Tea in his Kindergarten class.  I'm so proud of how he has developed through Kindergarten.  He even researched and created a PowerPoint presentation on Sea Turtles, complete with migrating (moving) photos.

The Big Boy had a stellar year as well.  With an excellent teacher, BB was encouraged to work hard, read every night and try.  Just try.

He did try and that's all we really wanted, when he tried, he learned.  We have lots of math memorization to work through this summer, but we are so proud of how he has matured and developed strong friendships and has begun to accept reason.  He rolls his eyes when his father does something silly, he shrugs when his brother doesn't get his way and he tells me he loves me at night.

For this child, speaking feelings was never part of his daily life.  He has been very closed off and frustrated.  Love was the first step, next up, working through the frustrations.

The other night, Big Boy asked me to lay with him in bed and share my deepest darkest secrets.  I got a little scared, thinking of those deepest darkest secrets and decided making something up might be best in this situation.  I told him my fear of drowning.  I was so delighted and nervous for his fears and secrets and thought about how I'm being an excellent parent.  I'm talking one on one with my kid.  Patting myself on the back, I asked BB what his secret was. 

You ready?

"My deepest, darkest secret is...are you sure you are ready, Mom?  My darkest secret is...

...my favorite color is Red."

Yes, I am an excellent parent.

19/366: Boys

We had some new putter patter feet in our home on Monday.

It was fantastic!  I love this little boy.  I only borrowed him for the day to remind myself the joys of parenthood.

In the morning, I told Tom how I 'could do it again'.

By the fifth hour, I had changed my mind.

Boys are a lot of work.  Especially at this mighty age of one and a half.   Always moving.

I loved it.

Took a nap after he left, but loved it.

The best part of the day, was that my Big Boy stayed with me and our friend the whole day.  He played next to us and helped me out.  He talked to our friend as if he was 10 years old.  Important questions, observations, and instructions.  It was great.  BB has always been good with little ones, this time, was even better.  It made me wonder if other ADHD boys react the same way to young people.  Many parents worry about the tantrums and anger, but when sitting next to our friend, BB was sweet, caring and protective.

I asked the Big Boy if he thought we should have another kid. 

He said, "Yes.  But he needs to be 5 or 6 years old."

Truth Be Told

My son has ADHD.

I have never said that out loud (in type) here on my blog.  I feel like I have been hiding a secret from you all.

I already hide chocolate from my family, I can't handle another secret.

All our friends are aware.  Some neighbors, teachers, people that need to know, know.

And now you all know.  I need to share my frustrations so that other parents can feel comfort in not being alone.  I have felt alone, ashamed, for too long.

ADHD is to Learning Disabilities as crochet is to knitting.  It's like the ugly stepsister that really isn't a sister.  Many people think of ADHD as an excuse for poorly behaved children to act out.  It is not.  It is real.  It is a disability.  And my son, has ADHD.  This is my favorite post from a mother with a son that also has ADHD.

Since he was young, we could all see that this boy had a head full of information.  He was so inquisitive.  He would take a full minute before he answered a question because he was "thinking" about the answer. As he began pre-school, he was constantly in trouble.  I'll never forget the feeling of walking into that room with all the other parents and seeing every child on green, and Sam on red.  It does numbers on a mother to see that every single day.  If you are an educator, it does no good whatsoever to show all the children and parents which children are good and which ones are not.

When Sam was three and four, he could name every state in the country.  We could even hold it backwards and he would know it.  Recently, he learned the entire alphabet in hieroglyphics.   Monday, he had a hard time doing simple math (more on that later).

Our parent teacher conferences are always the same...'So smart, but just doesn't listen. Marches to the beat of his own drum."  Sam's Kindergarten teacher was the first educator to see the potential in Sam.  First grade was rough, I couldn't wait for that year to end.  Second grade was better, a male teacher.  Sam seemed to enjoy school much more than years prior, but forgotten and incomplete homework was never an issue with the teacher, he didn't really care or mark Sam for not doing it.  This year...another male teacher.  This one seasoned, near retirement, a runner, with grandson's Sam's age.  I think he gets it. I can see the changes in Sam.

Sam and his brother have also met some neighborhood boys.  That has built confidence in him like no other event so far.  Yes, we still have meltdowns, like yesterday, but those I can handle.

I started writing this post on Monday of this week.  I was going to tell you all how great things are going.  How Sam is doing his homework, playing with friends, respecting me.  Then, Tuesday Math happened.

Screaming.  Slamming.  Scary.

Some days, it sucks.  Sucks real bad.  It is miserable.  ADHD sucks.  He feels like he needs constant help, yet gets angry when trying to explain something.  I think he ran to his room for a self-imposed time out 4 times.  And it was only one page of math homework.

I guess what I really want to say is that ADHD is real.  If you know of a child that has it, smile at the parent.  Give them a pat on the back.  It is hard work.  It's such an unpredictable disability and the ebbs and flows are so distinct, that it's sometimes hard to remember the highs.

And sometimes hard to forget the lows.