And yet again...

Tomorrow, for the 4th time in his life, my son will go and sit in a room with a psychologist who will spend two hours, more or less, asking him questions designed to understand how his mind works. This is fairly impressive for someone who is only 7 years old, and to me says an enormous amount about how far our understanding of the challenges faced by many children has come in the last 6 decades. In the 1950s and earlier, the prescription for a child with CJ's issues would often be a good whipping and "better" parenting, because, really, kids only have issues when their parents aren't doing their jobs, right? Yet another reason to be happy that I'm parenting and teaching now, when kids and parents aren't simply labeled "bad" and set to the side to be ignored, but instead are brought further into the fold to help find out what is happening and how they can be supported.

Our story is also a great example of how identification is more a journey than a single event. CJ was first evaluated at 2, when Craig and I were desperate for someone to help us parent our child more effectively. We knew there was something going on with him, but couldn't sort out exactly what. At the time, we didn't get a diagnosis as much as a series of suggestions for how to structure his world and ours to minimize conflict. They worked well and we chugged along for another 2 years, making sure we transitioned slowly and with lots of notice, following a schedule that centered around meal times (just easier to work from there outward) and putting in place routines to help us accomplish every day activities more easily.

That is where things stood until CJ started in a regular school setting. Halfway through Pre-K 4, it was apparent that his peer interactions left a great deal to be desired and we found ourselves in evaluation mode again. This time we did get a diagnosis of a Non-Verbal Learning Disorder (NVLD) with an ADHD Rule Out and, most importantly, an IEP.  For the next two years, we invested a lot of time and money into helping him improve. We paid for an occupational therapist, a behaviorist, and a therapist out of pocket. His kindergarten teachers were a godsend, providing a safe place for him to learn how to exist in a classroom, and he thrived. First grade was a bit rougher and we started 2nd grade in a new town and a new school, not at all sure where we stood.

In the transfer to VA, it was decided to go ahead and retest him since he was almost due for a new round of tests. The school did a great job on his 3rd go round. There was still a gap in his IQ scores but both were high enough that a NVLD label was no longer an option and so we moved to a straight ADHD diagnosis. His new school, and especially his teacher, have been amazing this year. Without all the extra strain that comes with school in the inner city, they have been able to focus on helping CJ thrive. There is an aide in the class who works with him one-on-one part of the day and she and his teacher both have a great relationship with him. He was still struggling, however, so we made the hard decision to try ADHD medication just before spring break.

We are lucky that the medication starting helping almost immediately. We upped the dosage once and that was it. His teacher and the aide both gushed about the incredible changes they were seeing in the classroom and it felt for a moment that we had solved the riddle and everything would be clear sailing from here on out. Unfortunately, those changes weren't carrying over to his life outside the classroom and his peer interactions remained problematic to say the least. It appears that some of the issues we'd always thought were ADHD-related weren't and that left us once again trying to figure out what was going in that oh-so-smart little mind of his. This is not uncommon and is actually another great benefit to having put him on medication, since we would otherwise never have realized we might be missing something. Which brings us to tomorrow, when he will again sit in a room while someone asks him a lot of questions. I admit I hope that this will be the end of the evaluation process and that we will walk away with concrete information on what other challenges we might be facing. I do know that, if it's not the end, we'll simply gear up for Round 5, because I will not stop until we completely understand my little guy and what he needs.

Before we met with the clinical psychologist last week, I sent over all of the paperwork on CJ's last round of tests, along with his IEP and some other items. She was pretty blown away at all that we'd managed to get done for someone so young. Usually, she said, kids his age show up in her office at the very beginning of the process we have been embarked on for a very long time. "You should be proud of yourselves and all that you've accomplished," she told us, "give yourselves credit for all the answers you've found." And we do, of course, but as any parent will tell you, the satisfaction here is not in the effort but the result. I could spend the next five years working non-stop to help CJ and if, at the end of that time, he is not successfully integrated into his class, I will not congratulate myself on all I've done but will, rather, spend my time trying to figure out what I did wrong and how to fix it.

I know that I'm not a bad parent, that's not my worry. No, what keeps me awake at night is whether I can be a good enough parent to make sure that my son doesn't go through life not understanding why he struggles with things that other kids find easy. Put simply, I will be done when he is happy far more often than he is sad.

Anything less is unacceptable.

New Plan, Day Four

We are four days into our new medication regimen for CJ and things are going well. The real test will be tomorrow, when he heads back to school, but thus far we definitely have seen a big impact at home. A few moments that for me highlight the difference:

• He lost a part to his new plane Saturday night right before dinner and was in prime tantrum mode, refusing to eat dinner until he'd found it. Once, however, I explained to him that that was his choice but no one was going to be able to help him look until after we had eaten, he stopped fussing and quietly sat waiting for us to finish. He then found his plane part in about 10 min and immediately sat down and ate dinner. Huge progress.
• Sunday was Easter and we can all remember how interminable Easter service can be for little ones. Lots of hoopla in the beginning, a long sermon and longer than usual communion since there are so many people. He actually sat the entire service without wiggling or lying down or poking anyone. At the very end, during communion, he said "Mom, I'm feeling cooped up." So we left right after we got communion. I can't tell you how incredible this is. Without CJ setting them off, the other boys also were really well behaved.
• After church was a long car ride to Aunt Erica's, dinner and desert and then a long car ride home.  Once we got home, pretty much everyone had a lot of energy to burn off. Instead of simply bouncing off the walls, CJ followed dad's suggestion and did a whole workout using our playground equipment, pull-ups, push-ups, etc. For the first time, he was able to focus on what he needed to do to get rid of his excess energy, instead of just spinning out of control.

We'll still wait to see what his teacher has to say, but our experiment seems to be a big success. And, thus far, we also haven't seen any side effects (knock on wood). He seems to have less appetite for lunch but he is still eating a good breakfast before taking his medicine and eats a great dinner, so I'm not really worried.

I'll be honest and say that I still hate giving him medicine and I probably always will. I feel like I failed him because I couldn't figure out someway to help him without resorting to them. If it helps him to function better, however, I can't justify refusing to give it to him. I'd love to think that exercise and diet would do the trick, but he is not mildly ADHD and at his level extra help is probably needed.

On a positive note, we found out that there is a in-line speed skating club out here and I took CJ to check it out tonight. One of the best parts of being a mother is seeing your children click with an interest, and I saw that tonight in spades. Apparently, CJ was born to be a speed skater and was simply waiting for us to realize it and find him a place to practice. The coach seems great and actually has a step-son with ADHD so he was right there with CJ, always a relief. They have three 2-hour practices each week, which should take care of any excess energy left after his medicine.

I'm happy to report that this week is starting on a much brighter note than last week. We are not out of the woods yet, but we seem to have at least found a working compass and a map, which is a huge relief.

Back to the drawing board

This has not been a red-banner week for me. I had a complete meltdown on Monday, and when I say meltdown I mean it. Being a mom is challenging and being the mom of a child with special needs just adds to it. Strangely, I've found myself reluctant to write about what's been happening, as if it's selfish to admit weakness in myself or disloyal to CJ to acknowledge how challenging life can be at times. I feel like parents are often so focused on seeming like they have everything under control, that they don't always reach out for help when they need it. And boy did I need help.

People who know CJ recognize what a special soul he is and appreciate all that he brings to our lives, realizing that he is not defined by his challenges. His teacher this year told us a story about how they were reading Heidi and he was so moved by it that he started crying. When she asked him what was wrong he started talking about the book and how it made him feel and suddenly, for the first time ever, she found herself in tears in her classroom right along with him. He told his classmates his "deepest, darkest secret" last week, that he leaves home in the middle of the night to wait tables in a bistro where he drinks alcohol and smokes pipes filled with coffee grounds. When the principal called to talk to me about it, she spent most of the time focused on how impressive his storytelling was, with amazing details added. Apparently, the GT teacher will just come in and sit and watch him when they are doing activities in class because she loves the way his mind works. That is the boy that we all love and want to see succeed.

Unfortunately, not everyone sees that child and it's hard to handle people who only recognize his limitations, simply because they don't have a chance to see the whole package. And I get it, obviously. On any given day there will be moments when I want to pull my hair out because I've asked him to do the same thing 5 times and yet he looks at me blankly when I remind him yet again. So, yes, I understand. I understand the teacher, who has never seen him before he completely loses it in the gym during pick-up because it's loud and he's tired, telling me that my child "has a problem." I understand the parent who hears that some little boy at school hit their daughter in the face for no logical reason and isn't happy about it. I understand that the hockey coach doesn't want a player telling him that pulling another kid out of the game isn't fair because everyone deserves to play the same amount of time. I understand that the GT teacher comes to watch him in his classroom because he can't function in her's. And when AJ tells me that his brother embarrasses him sometimes and he wishes I would just make him stop, I understand it.

I understand and yet it kills me to know that people are looking at him and thinking he is a problem and looking at me and thinking I'm a crappy mom who hasn't figured out how to control her kid. I may be doing everything wrong, but it is not because I'm not trying. I try to let it roll-off, always sage advice, and it does work mostly. Recently, however, it's just felt like things are getting more extreme. Not, I think, because he is changing but simply because he is getting bigger and the consequences of his actions are more serious than they were when he was 4 or 5. I've been feeling this panic that people are right and I'm failing him and he'll end up in a place where I've never wanted him to be.

And so, I cracked. And it wasn't pretty, but it was reality. And it's okay because once it's over, you go back to doing what you can to help the boy you love. Sometimes, you even come out of it better than you were before. Sometimes, you come out of it with a plan.

Today, I filled a prescription for an ADHD drug for my son, my brilliant, wonderful son. Because I want him to have playdates and sleep-overs. I want every teacher he meets to know how great he is. I want him in that GT classroom. I want not only to help him work on his weaknesses, I also want to help him make the most of his strengths. He deserves nothing less and we aren't there right now.

I hate medicine, as every doctor I've had in the last 5 years will tell you, but when it meant saving my life I took them. I hate giving my children medicine just as much, but I will if it means saving the life that I know CJ should be having. I don't want him to get by or make do, I want him to soar. And if a pill can help, I'm not going to stand in its way. And if it doesn't work, we simply stop it. No harm, no foul.

So, fingers crossed, tomorrow starts a new day and new path. It won't be smooth, but that's okay, the best things in life are rarely the most easily achieved.

Growing Up...

I bought 4 pairs of size 12 jeans today for my oldest boy, as well as a 24" bike, and two days ago signed him up for his first sleep-away camp experience. How crazy is that? I just last week dressed my youngest in one of the outfits his biggest brother wore when he was a toddler. I have an incredibly vivid memory of how much fun I had buying it for him and how completely adorable he was in it. I can still feel the great big hugs he used to give me during his occasional love checks while playing at that same age. I am not ready to be the mom of this boy who is almost my height. I am certainly not ready for how ready he is to embrace independence.

When I mentioned camp to him, he didn't even blink. A yell of happiness at going was quickly followed by a howl of disappointment once he realized he had to wait 4 whole months before heading out to explore the world on his own for the first time. I know it will be harder for him as the time gets closer and reality sets in, but part of me wondered how this child, who was my one and only for 19 months, can be so happy at the thought of being on his own for a week. I know he'll miss me, but also recognize that we stand at the beginning of The Time When I Become Unnecessary.

The really sad thing is that it gets earlier and earlier with each child. My youngest already seems bored when it is just the two of us. He wants his brothers and their friends around to keep him entertained. Mom sitting on the floor playing with some blocks just doesn't cut it anymore. We have started going to storytime at the library and that seems acceptable so far, but really, at 14 months, our oldest thought watching mom put away dishes was incredible exciting. Oh, how jaded we have become. Apparently, he is as keen to start daycare two mornings a week and make his own friends as I am to have the time to focus on work. Luckily, I have learned that you can't try and make your children operate on your timetable. They are ready for the next step when they are ready, whether it's at 14 months or 9 years, even if you are not.

Actually, I do feel a sense a pride that we have managed to create a child who is confident enough in himself that he is excited by the thought of being on his own. And, after all, you do know going into parenthood that the goal is to do a good enough job that you put yourself out of work. But, as with most things, KNOWING something and FEELING it are entirely different experiences.

I find that I am still learning a lot about being a parent, like the fact that you can miss someone even before they physically leave you.

Claiming my own space (with pics)

My office!

I have an office. This might not sound like a big deal, but it is enormous for me. For the first time in over a decade I have a space that is all mine. (Okay, I do have some kid furniture in there, but that's just being realistic about my life right now.) Really though, it's amazing. My computer, printer, paper, bills and files are all in one place, so I'm not constantly having to go to another room to get something. It now tops my list of best things about my new house. I loved our old house, but it was so small that every inch was dedicated to the kids or the family as a whole. I spent the most time in that house every day and somehow had the least amount of space. Craig had the basement and the boys had basically everywhere else. I kind of perched in different places but didn't have anywhere to call my own.

This is no longer true. Here I took a space that wasn't being completely utilized and made it mine. I chose the paint color and the furniture and even did all the work myself, although Craig did have to jump in and help a few times. I'm not quite done, want to put either pictures or a memo board over the console and I need an office chair, but I'll get there. It was so much fun to put together. I had a very small glimpse at how the pioneers must have felt a hundred years ago as they claimed something and made it their own. I even have my own displaced persons, since the room I took over was the room on the first floor that my parents use when they visit. Not to worry, though, I left the center of the room open and have a nifty portable bed from Front Gate they can use. Don't want any unfortunate incidents to occur if the former inhabitants rebel.

I also feel like it was the first step in making this Laura's house instead of Amy's house. As I said before, the former owner had a great sense of style, which is why I didn't feel like I had to do much of anything before moving in here, but it was odd to live somewhere someone else had decorated. Starting to put my stamp on it has made me feel more at home. It actually inspired me to paint my kitchen. My mom helped with this, which was great since it turned out to be a much bigger project than I imagined. I picked a darker and warmer color and love how it makes the space feel cosier. I'll apologize for the pictures now, the boys broke my camera so I took these using our mini-camcorder and the resolution could be better.

Old color

New color

I probably broke some design rule because the new color is very different from the color in the living room next to it in the open plan, but I actually like that it makes a visual break in the space. 

living room right next to kitchen

Transition between the two

I also still need to do some decorating in the kitchen. My plates didn't work with the new color so I've moved them to the dining room and I'm not really sure what else to use. I also need to finish organizing the area by the desk and the door to the garage. That will be boy central, with a place for backpacks, coats and all things school related. Oh, and the light over the table is the one I spray-painted. It used to be an icky putty color, but I like it much better in antique bronze.

Anyway, I am off to my office to finish my latest work assignment. Yes, I have managed to say the words "my office" a ridiculous number of times in the last week and it still makes me smile.

Missing Dad

I am incredibly lucky that Craig's job requires very little travel. I have several friends and a sister-in-law whose husbands are regularly away from home. You'd think, therefore, that when he does head out of town we'd be able to go with the flow, and, for the most part, we do. During the week our lives are not so different since he's gone for 12 hours a day as it is. Weekends aren't fun but that is far less common anyway. Really, it wouldn't be that bad if it weren't for the cosmic chaos that seems to descend every time.

What's cosmic chaos? Cosmic chaos is having a sick baby and finding out you and your 5 year old have lice 24 hours after Craig leaves. It's the fact that in the last 24 hours, I've hurt my ankle and AR now has a butterfly bandage over the cut on his eyelid that almost required general anesthesia and sutures. It's those moments when you feel like one more event will push you over the edge and the result won't be pretty. I wonder, though, if it's really that much more chaotic than our normal life or if it just seems that way when I'm on my own.

Economists and politicians talk all the time about the economic benefits of two-parent households and I can see what they mean. I'm grateful that Craig working means I can stay home and it's great to know that if we really needed extra money it would be easy to achieve with my returning to work. I do not want to downplay the advantages all this provides to me and my children. But, to me, the real advantage to having that second parent in the house is not financial, but emotional.

I love knowing that someone has my back when things start to feel like they are spinning out of control. When I've had one of those days, the sight of Craig walking in the door is enough to put a song in my heart. You can almost sense a shift in the emotional balance of the room as he takes over soothing whichever child is in tears or cautioning the child who put them there. The space just to walk away and shut a door for 15 minutes and know that everything will go on out in the other room as it should is an amazing gift.

Just like bad days are made better by his presence, so too good days achieve new heights. Children already in good moods bubble over in their eagerness to tell dad all about the great things they did that day. More and better stories are told and plans made for the future add to the mix of happiness. Smiles seem brighter and the games we play simply more fun when we add in another adult to help guide the way and ensure every child feels they are receiving sufficient attention.

Could I do it all on my own? Of course I could, and in a way that meant my children were as well-adjusted as any others. I see single parents in action every day and the amazing amount of love and attention they shower on their children makes you realize just how great a parent one person can be. While I could do it on my own, however, I am grateful every day for the support from Craig that means I'm not managing the cosmic chaos alone. I'm also grateful for the occasional business trip to help remind me just how lucky I am.

A Sense of Style

I freely admit that I am about as far from a designer as one can get. When it comes to my home, organization is essential to me and I can do a good job at that. The aesthetic side of design, however, is not my thing. Which is actually funny, because apparently the woman who built our current house is completely enamored with design and good at it. In fact, I have been intimated by that knowledge. It has made for an odd situation as I try to claim the space as my own, yet feel somehow like I don't have the right to critique someone who obviously knows what they are doing far more than I do.

It has taken me a while to realize that just because she has good taste, doesn't mean I have to like everything she did and my choices can be equally valid. Since I reason best while writing, this is to help me sort out what I want to do. You're welcome to come along for the ride and I would love advice from all my friends with a great sense of style. There are pictures to help visualize. If you don't like HGTV, you should probably stop reading now.

Color is a big deal, mainly because I hate picking them. She had some great colors in the house and I will definitely keep a couple. The color in the main room is perfect since it accents all the great light that comes in through the windows. The amount of light in the house was one of the top three reasons we bought it so keeping this space nice and bright is a big priority. Given that the fireplace is this 2 story stone monstrosity (not something we would have picked at all), having a neutral color on the walls is also important.

My only pet peeve about the house is the crazy TV accoutrement on all the walls. First thing I did was set up a media room in the basement and that is the only location with a TV in the house. I love this as it is definitely out of sight, out of mind! As you can see, they had a TV in the living room and behind it there are cable hook-ups and what I assume are spots for surround sound. I had to find something big enough to hang there and cover it all. The front room (aka the formal living room) has the same thing. I suppose if you are a family with 7 TVs this is important, if you are not they are simply a pain in the butt.

A color I can appreciate but don't want to keep is in the dining room.

I like the chocolate, but it is too dark for me. Ideally, I'd keep the color below the chair rail and paint a lighter color above it but I'm not sure about finding a complimentary color without knowing what this one is called. We also need to paint all the trim since I'm sensing she painted in a hurry before it went on the market, most of the rooms are a pretty sloppy job. I am happy to report that the chandelier is gone, gone, gone. Neither Craig nor I like those fake candle lights (Craig particularly since they are apparently as far from Energy Star as you can get in a light bulb) and the putty color is not us. We put up the one from our old house, which is antique bronze, replaced the small lights in the halls and then I spray painted the lights in the foyer and over the kitchen table to match (so HGTV of me). Our dining room furniture is dark wood so I'd like something lighter, but haven't sorted out what yet. Anyone have a favorite color they'd like to share with me?

The front room is directly across from the dining room and fades into the background in comparison.

See? Completely lacking in character. I have to admit I also don't understand the furniture placement, the couch is actually facing the dining room table, which is across the foyer. I see this in a lot of houses, so I assume there must be a design principle I don't know behind it, but to me it simply seems to draw attention away from the room you're in and send it elsewhere. We put our sofa on the wall with the framed picture, so it is facing the windows and a set of chairs. Can't decide if I need a bolder color in here or not. We have some big furniture in this room now so it might be okay.

Two areas that must change color very quickly are the foyer and the kitchen. The foyer has this faux paint finish, not my thing in the first place, and then they patched the top of one wall and didn't replace the finish and put Spackle on some nail holes that makes the walls look diseased in places. I think I'm going to try and match the color of the living room for this area. The kitchen is a shade of blue that I don't get at all. (Warning: the color in the picture doesn't seem as off as it does in real life.)



Kitchen



Long View of Kitchen from Living Room

I do love the kitchen, especially that it does not have granite countertops, cherry cabinets and stainless steel appliances. I am a white kitchen kind of girl and a light wood is the next best thing. There was the random stainless fridge, but I brought my awesome french door fridge from DC, which is white, and we bought a new white dishwasher. This fridge is now out in the garage, and it's great having a second fridge along with the freezer we brought with us. We did not replace the oven, mainly because I am hoping to figure out a way to put in a double oven with a separate cooktop without having to redo the entire kitchen. The color must go, however. The baby blue drives me crazy. I love yellow kitchens, but don't think it would go with the cabinets. Was actually thinking of a darker blue but it might be risky, we'll see. The light over the kitchen table, FYI, is the one I painted bronze. It was really easy and looks great.

Well, there you have it. I actually feel much better. I have admitted publicly that I don't like everything she did to the house and no one has shown up at the house to drag me away in cuffs. I am not a designer of any sort, but I don't have to be. I just have to know what I like and be willing to go boldly forth with it. I have often suspected that a sense of style was more about chutzpa than taste and if that's true then I'm set. Chutzpa I have in spades.

Assuming I find the time to actually fix all this, I'll post the after pictures and you can judge whether I make the house better, worse, or simply change it to a different style.

Trapped and thankful for it...

Today I endured day 7 of my confinement, waiting for AR to recover from his never-ending and pretty nasty cold. I have made a couple of necessary trips to the store and church to teach Sunday School and Craig took time off last week so I could go to the gym and run an errand or two. We also went to a party on Saturday, when we incorrectly thought he was better. Other than that, however, it's been me and the little guy hanging out in our house sniffling and getting lots and lots of hugs (the cold has apparently brought on separation anxiety). Particularly amusing about all this is that it is simultaneously the type of experience that makes me want to go back to work and a big reason why I'm not working in the first place.

A sick child is the Achilles Heel of the working parent. I imagine most couples have had the debate over whose turn it is to stay home with a sick child, and for single parents the challenge is even greater. As a teacher, I've had students get sick in class and then tell me they threw up in the parking lot as well but their parents told them they had to go to school because the parent couldn't miss work or at least had to go in for a few hours. I know a lot of parents who have dosed their kids with Tylenol to conceal a fever and sent them to school or daycare or even taken them into work with them because they have a deadline they can't miss.  Don't get me wrong, I pass no judgement on this. In a world with limited leave and huge pressure to perform, parents do what they have to do in order to keep their jobs. I'm sure none of them want to take a sick child anywhere and wouldn't if they had a true choice.

I, however, did have a choice and made it when we decided to give up the second income and all that it provides to have me at home. This situation is exactly why we made that sacrifice. We're lucky that it was an option and our kids are lucky that, as crazy it might make me, there will be someone home with them for as long as it takes them to get well.

I am, however, wishing really hard that day is not too far away for AR. Although, given the way he was tugging on his ear today, I'm sensing we might not be as close as I'd like. Luckily, I've got nowhere to be but here - and the doctor's office.