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.