Morning Grumps - LJ Idol 3 Strikes, Week 3

"Bubs, it's time for school!"  

Walking down the stairs, I see him pull his blanket over his head and curl as far into the couch as he can as though hiding from the morning means it won't actually happen. I can't help but smile.  I'm in a good mood and we have a little time before we need to go out the door.  I take a moment to pull down the blanket and ruffle his hair.

"You've got about an hour until we have to leave, baby.  Start to get up and get dressed!"  I hear a grunt as a hand pulls the blanket away from me to bury himself once more.  I chuckle as I move to get myself some much needed breakfast and coffee.

About 15 minutes later, I come back to him with his morning meds.  I know that if I leave it to him, it will be forgotten.  "Bubs, 45 minutes! Here's your meds!" One slim hand slips from the cocoon and I set it in his palm.  The hand starts to slide back under the covers when I remind him that I need to see him take it.  We needed to start watching him when we found too many buried in the cushions of the couch. Luckily he isn't giving me a difficult time this morning, flipping the blanket down, rolling over and popping the pill into his mouth.  His blue eyes sparkle a little as he pulls the blanket back up.  My head shakes, a smile on my face.  "45 minutes," I remind him.

30 minutes later, I check to find him still naked, but now chuckling at something on his phone.  "Pete, I need you to get dressed. We're leaving in 15."  His eyes stay glued to his phone, acting as though I'd said nothing.

"Pete.  Get dressed."

Still nothing.

I walk over to get his attention.  "Pete.  Now please."  Nothing.

My voice gets sharp.  "Peter.  Get. Dressed."  Still nothing.

I take his phone.  "Now."

This is when the screams start.  "Give me my phone back!"  

"Get dressed."

"I heard you!  Give me my phone!"

I try to keep calm, but every scream, every insistence that he did nothing wrong, every attempt to pull the phone from my hand, makes it hard to keep control of my temper.

"When you get dressed, then you can have your phone."  Every time we have a problem, this is the way it goes.  I try to be nice, bright, happy.  He ignores me until I get annoyed.  I take away his phone since it is what's keeping him from doing what he's supposed to.  More yelling and screaming.  Reminding him that when he's done what he is supposed to, then he can have his phone.  More screaming.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

This morning, the fight doesn't take as long.  I hand him his clothes, keep my anger in check, and hold his phone where he can see it.  Within 5 minutes, he has on his everyday outfit of black jogging pants and his Sonic hoodie.  I hand his phone back, "Get your shoes and socks on while you're watching your phone."  It may take the full 10 minutes we have left, but I know that it will get done.  It's the way these mornings go.

I slip my own shoes on and grab his laptop bag.  Anything to make things a little easier, I tell myself.  Once I see him slide on his sneakers, I grab my keys.  "Don't forget your mask," I remind him, pointing to the mask on the back of couch.  "I've got your bag."

As I settle myself in the car, I think back on the last hour.  I recognize that these mornings of temper tantrums and anger are happening far less.  I note the things that went right - him taking his meds without trouble, the fact that the tug of war between us lasted less time than usual, getting his shoes on.   Maybe tomorrow will be a day without fighting.  Maybe tomorrow will be a day where I come down to find him fully dressed, smiling and us getting along great.  I have hope.  

I look up and smile as the front door opens and my growing 13 year old bounds out, his mask around his neck and his plo in his hand.  I start the car, rolling down the window to remind him to close the front door with a smile.

It may have been a rough morning, but I think it will be a great day.

Pete, getting ready to head out to school.

This is the way some mornings go.

Monday Musings - Then and Now

 

I see the world that my boys are growing up in and I can't help but compare it to my own life at their age.

At almost 13 (like Pete is now), I was living in rural New York.  I was attending a school that housed kindergarten through 12th grade, maybe about 400 kids in the whole school.  My 7th grade class was about 30, 35 kids.  They were the kids I'd known (for the most part) since kindergarten.  The furthest I had to move was from the bottom and 1st floor of the building up to the second floor.  It was neat to get a locker, to move from class to class.  Much like in elementary school, we had the same kind in every class.  We all moved together from Math to English to Social Studies to Spanish.  We had PE every day, all year round. I was able to be in chorus and, for a little while, band as well.  Though I stopped band so I could be in the color guard.  I had some very good friends, but there were also some (mainly the guys) who could be really cruel.  Every mistake I'd made - and, being an awkward kid, there were a lot - was remembered.  I was overweight, smart, and so very awkward.  I know I wasn't the only one that had trouble, but it really seemed like it sometimes.  

My days were often spent outside, sometimes running around our property, sometimes going down the hill to spend time with my cousins, often times with a book in hand.  It was an awkward time, partly because my dad had moved to Florida the year before so I didn't have him nearby (I was a true Daddy's girl) and partly because I was too much like my mom, and we would fight all the time.  While it wasn't the best year for me, it also wasn't the worst.

I was a strange one in middle school!

Pete has a different time in 7th grade.  He's at the same school he's been at for the last two years, but kindergarten through 4th grade were an elementary school.  He's been changing classes for several years now, and it's old hat for him.  For 5th and 6th grade, each class had different students in it (6th, of course, was partly because of virtual and hybrid learning).  This year, to make contact tracing easier if any of the kids get COVID, he has the same kids in all of his classes (except for related arts).  He doesn't have daily PE, though this year he is getting it for two quarters instead of just one.  He's learning a lot more than I ever did - pre-algebra instead of some lower level maths, chemistry instead of earth science, world history instead of American history. Computers are a part of his every day life and he knows them a bit better than I do - even after using them for almost 40 years!  Of course, he's also having to maneuver through a global pandemic - which isn't something that I had to worry about at his age.

But there are some things that are the same.  He doesn't have a lot of friends.  Part of it, I think, is because he doesn't care as much.  It's the ASD that makes some kids think he's weird.  Though I will say that all of the kids in his classes, while not good friends of his, are at least kind.  I can't complain about that.  And he spends a good deal of time outside.  Pretty much daily, he leaves the apartment to run up and down the streets within the complex.  He doesn't read as much as I do, but he does love to learn as much as I did.  And I'm watching him grow in ways I never could have expected even 2 years ago.

Growing tall, growing up.

By the time 15 and 10th grade came around, so much had changed for me.  I had moved to Florida to live with my dad and I went from the tiny school I was in to a high school with 400 students per grade level!  It was scary for me, because I didn't know anyone.  But I took a computer class over the summer and made a few friends.  When school started, I was put into the choral group where I ended up making most of my friends.  The classes weren't any harder for me than they'd been in NY (though I did have to do some class switching because they put me in some classes that I'd already taken).   I didn't participate in color guard any longer, but Chorus was a much bigger deal than it had been in NY.  I had friends close enough by to visit with, and the ability to take the bus home with my best friend's on several occasions.  It was one of the happiest years in school for me, giving me a bit of a chance to reinvent myself and put all the embarrassing past behind.

Me, in 10th or 11th grade.  I was so happy then!

 Tedd is in a strange situation.  He's at the same school he's been in since 7th grade, but in some ways, it's like a brand new school for him.  Last year, because of virtual learning, he didn't really keep up with the friends he'd made before.  There was no real time to talk to them in class because the videos were more about learning.  So when he came back in person this year, it was like it was a whole new school.  (I think he's got one friend that is still in a class with him.)  

He was also able to kind of reinvent himself mentally, thanks to the year of virtual schooling.  He has a lot of social anxiety  and that negatively affected his schooling in 7th and 8th grade.  Being able to take his time, not having to show his face, he was able to focus on the work and not on the fears that were holding him back.  He's got a heavy course load this year - Chinese III, IM III, English Honors II, Chemistry Honors, Men's Choral and his first AP class: AP Human Geography.  It's only been a few weeks, but he seems ore on top of things than he had been in the years before.  Hopefully, he'll also be able to make a few more friends.

Enjoying marshmallows over the summer

As I watch them both in this first few weeks of school, I can't help but think of my past and their present.  I think it's common for all parents.  And at first, I though this post would be talking about what was better for me and what's better for them but after writing, I don't think any of us have a better or worse time.  Just different.  And I'm glad that I get to see my boys growing.

Aging - MamaKat's Writing Prompt

 

6. Write a blog post in exactly 13 lines.

They must be taking an aging potion every night.

It is the only excuse I can think of for seeing hair grow above their lips, on their chests, their legs.

After all, it was only yesterday that they were able to curl up on my lap,  head curled in my shoulder and thumb firmly in mouth and pillow wrapped against their bodies.

Now I need to look up to both of them, much to their amusement.

The misspeaks that made me laugh have given way to intelligent conversation, opinions of their own that can be debated.

No longer are their days filled with playing with toys, instead they are spent on the computer, playing video games with friends.

Rather than being the ones to introduce them to new things, they regularly show us what they think we would enjoy.

More than I'd like, I can't recognize the children they were in the young adults they are becoming.

Is this something every parent goes through, or am I just mired in the past?

Don't get me wrong, I love who they are now, being able to have conversations I never would have imagined.

I love that they are growing into socially conscious individuals, with strong feelings of right and wrong. 

I adore that they are turning into men I am proud of.

I just sometimes miss the babies they were.

Then...

... and now.

Monday Musings - Back to School

 

On August 10th, my boys will be entering school for (almost) the first time in (almost) a year and a half.  The pandemic has kept them as virtual learners from mid March 2020, through the end of the 2020-2021 school year.  When school started last year, we were asked if we were going to want to keep our kids virtual for the year or if we would want them to go back in person when that option opened up.  We chose in person for the year, thinking better safe than sorry.  We were again given the choice at the end of the first semester, and again chose virtual.  This time, it was partly because we didn't really trust that COVID would be under control enough to feel safe sending them back, and partly because we wanted to keep things as stable for the boys as possible.

This year, we're not given an option to do virtual schooling.  In some ways, this is a good thing.  Being back in the school building will be good for Pete and his need for consistency.  It will also let him get back to the services that he's entitled to through his IEP.  Virtual schooling worked for him in one way - in that I knew what his assignments were and was able to keep on top of what he had to get turned in.  But it was so much harder to keep him focused and engaged unless I was sitting on him all the time.  Add to this the fact that being among people will help reinforce the socialization that he needs to practice.  At school, he won't be able to throw a temper tantrum whenever someone asks him to do something he doesn't want to do - which, sadly, becomes the norm here at home.  And if we're really lucky, he'll be able to make a friend or two as well.

Tedd is going to be trickier.  He really did well with virtual schooling.  Since his classes didn't require cameras to be in, he was able to focus on the lessons instead of his social anxiety.  He could engage with others at his own level.  He kept on top of his homework far more readily than he had when he was in the school building.  He felt more comfortable, and that translated to doing better in school.   Our school system does have a Virtual High School, and they opened that up as an option for more students for this upcoming school year, but for all the success that Tedd had in virtual schooling, we decided not to transfer.  A large part of it is because currently, he's at one of the top academic magnet schools in the state - Martin Luther King Jr Magnet.  Elementary and middle school before he transferred in to MLK bored him to death.  He needs the push that he gets at MLK.  And if we were to transfer out to Virtual, we wouldn't be able to get him transferred back in.  So, MLK he stays.

There are also a few other changes coming for the boys from the last time they were in the classroom.  For Pete, his middle school is allowing them to have a common-sense dress code - no offensive clothing, nothing ripped, no sandals, that kind of thing.  It means he can wear his comfortable T-shirts instead of collared polos.  His pants won't change - partly because he only has one kind he'll ever wear anyway.  But he'll be so much more comfortable in T-shirts.  Finding sneakers instead of his sandals... that might be tougher....  For Tedd, his school has been the same common-sense dress code since he started in 7th grade, so no changes for him there.  His change is the fact that the district has gone back to free school lunches for all.  Because the school zone that Pete is in is low-income, lunches were free for everyone there already.  But MLK, being a Magnet pulled from the whole district, didn't have a high enough number of low-income to allow it when they switched to individual school eligibility a couple years ago.  This year, they've announced that all schools are back to free lunches.  Tedd not having to remember to pack a lunch or bring cash with him will be a huge weight off his mind.

This upcoming weekend our school supply Tax Free Weekend, so I'll be going to pick up a lot of things that the kids will need.  Pants for Tedd, shirts for Pete, laptop bags for both, some school supplies (as much for me because I love them as for them - I still have a bunch that they never used last year.) , and probably a few new masks, because even if the schools aren't requiring them, I am.   On the 4th, we'll find out what Pete's schedule is and get a chance to meet his teachers.  On the 9th, I'll make sure their bags are all ready, laptops charged and in their bags, in bed early enough to have an awesome day.  Tedd will try to catch the city bus, I'll drive Pete in to school, and the year will be a touch closer to normal.

Tedd, focusing on his school work

Pete, at his most comfortable
for school

Monday Musings - Finding Out Way Through Meltdowns

 From around the time Pete was 3, he started having some pretty bad meltdowns.  At that age, I thought it WAS just the age.  Tedd had had some as well, but they never seemed to be as bad.  He made lots of problems for his teachers at PDO, and eventually we brought him to a rehab specialist for evaluation.  That's when I first heard of Sensory Perception Disorder (SPD).  Basically, he doesn't feel things physically the same way that we do.  Things that may feel soft to us is scratchty to him.  Sounds that might be a little loud to us are ringing through his head.  His senses were being overloaded by the things around him and he didn't know how to deal with it, so he acted out.  By kindergarten, he was diagnosed with ADHD and by 3rd grade, ASD.  All of those are things that go hand and hand with meltdowns.

When he was in kindergarten, there were meltdowns at least once a week.  I would go in to try to work with the teachers to get him to a place where he could learn.  I was so grateful for the teachers and administration because they were all willing to work with me to get him through this.  In first grade, there were fewer meltdowns.  In second, fewer still and none that caused me to have to come to the school to deal with him.  Third and fourth grade saw even fewer - in large part thanks to teachers that understood and recognized that some battles were better fought than others, as well as his SPED teacher that would just take him for a walk-and-talk.

Once he hit middle school (fifth grade here), school meltdowns were non-existent.  I sometimes wonder if the teachers and administration thought I was a crazy lady who thought my kid had problems when he didn't.  No, he was just better at controlling it.  We'd found little things - like letting him have something non-edible to chew on during the day, or letting him write with a pen instead of a pencil - that helped keep him on a more even keel.  Of course, that also meant that he saved up any meltdowns for home, usually when I wanted him to do something he didn't want to do.

Last year, of course, was a completely different kettle of fish.  He didn't step foot back in the classroom for the whole year.  It was better for us that way, even though trying to keep him in front of the computer and paying attention was difficult.  My thought was leaving him as a virtual learner for the year would cause less disruption to him overall.  And I think it did.  He still managed straight As in his classes and if he had meltdowns at home, I could find ways to get him calm.

That's not to say that I've perfected dealing with his meltdowns.  There are so many times when I'm depressed or tired, when he will flinch when I ask him something and it hits my last nerve because I wasn't even yelling and if he wanted to hear yelling I'd show him yelling.... And we'd spiral into angriness together.  Every time, I would feel bad that I wasn't the perfect mom, able to get him calm, able to stay calm myself.  Because I know that me getting upset doesn't help either one of us.  But sometimes it's hard, when you're in the middle of the feelings, to get out of them.

Right now, I'm trying hard to find ways for both of us to deal with things. I bought him a book that we're working on together for mindfulness, things he can do when he finds himself getting upset.  When he starts crying, "Don't yell at me," I try to talk to him more calmly, reiterating what I'd said in a calmer voice.  When a game of his gets him so wound up because he's having problems with it but refuses to step away on his own, I make him come talk to me and then suggest something he can do to get away for a bit - usually something needed like a bath, or taking out trash, getting the mail... anything that will help him break through the meltdown spiral.  

They don't always work.  I don't always work.  But every day is a new one, every situation is a new chance to try.  And that's what I'm doing.  Because he's worth it.  And we're worth it.  It's what family is about, as far as I'm concerned.

Pete, last week, eating a s'more.

Pete at three, listening to my audio book.

Monday Musings - Father's Day

 

Father's Day is always an interesting time around here.  Not only is it the day that we celebrate mine and Rich's dads (who made us into what we are today) as well as the awesome Father that Rich is himself, every few years it's a double holiday because Rich's birthday is around that time.

This year both weren't on the same day, but it's sometimes hard to get out of the mindset of them being together and celebrated together.  I'm used to Rich working if his birthday isn't on Father's Day, and us celebrating in one big "You are awesome and we love you!" celebration.  This time, he took time off between his birthday and this weekend so we celebrated his birthday first and, after a few days of just not doing much at all, found ourselves on Father's Day.

For his birthday, Tedd and I made him dinner, let him choose everything he wanted for the day.  Tedd had gotten him a D&D shirt, Pete had gotten him Earthworm Jim on Steam and I had picked up Ticket to Ride.  The boys and I made him a lemon cake with lemon frosting.  It was a great day and I think he felt very loved.

Yesterday, even though Tedd and I had gifts for him, we didn't quite get into the same gung ho mindset.  Tedd had been busy playing with his friends online, while I was trying not to stress over something I shouldn't have been stressing about anyway.  Pete was the only one that was interacting him with him, though he was playing his own game.  He was telling Rich all about the game he was playing. When Rich decided to take a nap at 10 am, I realized I'd screwed up.  I tried to make the rest of the day as awesome as possible - including going out for lunch at Uncle Bud's Catfish and Stuff (they make the BEST hushpuppies around!), taking him to Rick's Comic city to pick up some new reads, and playing Ticket to Ride when we got home - with the boys.  I think we managed to turn the day around, but I still feel bad that we didn't get on top of things from the beginning.  (We did, however, give him our gifts before going out to lunch.  Tedd got him a "Loading: Dad Jokes" shirt and I got him a "Science: It's Like Magic But Real" shirt.)  I have to try to do better next year.

Rich and the boys, Father's Day

Figuring out Ticket to Ride

It's the Little Things

 Tomorrow, two things are happening.  My apartment complex is coming to do the quarterly spraying and I'm getting some furniture from a friend.  As such, today is a day of cleaning. 

I came downstairs and told Pete that we needed to clean and his job was to clean the living room.  Rather than fussing or "waiting for Tedd", he got started.  When I was done with my breakfast, I went in and found he'd done a pretty good job.  There were still a few things to do, and he patiently picked up the things I pointed out.  It's not the way things usually run.  I'm grateful for it.

While he working on the living room, I was working on the entryway and the kitchen.  Tedd was working in the dining room.  Unusually, he was giving me a bit more grief than Pete in terms of cleaning.  But I knew that, unlike with his younger brother, he'd actually get the things done eventually so I left him to it.  I finished up the entryway and got started on the kitchen when I ran out of mental spoons*.  I must have looked like I was flagging because Tedd came up and put his arm around me in a hug.  "It's ok, Mom.  You've done enough.  We'll get the rest done."  For all the slight annoyance earlier, I needed that. I'm grateful for it.

Next I called Rich to let him know that I might need his help tonight.  He's been working in the office today and has to stop at the grocery store tonight, but so I was hoping that he could just do the vacuuming, maybe help a little in the kitchen.  "Tell me what the priorities are and I'll work on them.  It's ok, love."  I needed to hear that right then.  I'm grateful for it.

When I ran out to grab "thank you for helping" lunch for the boys, I dealt with kind people in the drive-thrus.  I was wished a blessed day and told to drive carefully with a smile.  It helped make my day a little better.  I'm grateful for it.

On Kind Words, I had someone tell me that my message asking to share something positive that my message WAS her positive for the day and thanked me for bringing joy into her life.  I always hope that my words, my messages asking people to share their joy with me, is helping.  Hearing that it does made me smile.  I'm grateful for it.

A lot of little things didn't go the way I wanted them to, but that's fine.  I'm choosing not to focus on those little things.  For today, I'm choosing to focus on the little things that lift my spirit rather than the little things that destroy it.  Because life is made up of the little things.  We just have to choose what little things we choose to make the focus of our day.

My books and games are little things that bring me joy.  Strange camera angles do as well.

* If you've never heard of the Spoon Theory of Chronic Illness, the whole story is here.  But basically it's about having a limited number of spoons, or things you can do, in a given day before your illness (be it mental or physical) kicks in.  Some days, I have more spoons than others.  I try to plan my days as though I'm going to have fewer spoons to do what I need to so those get done, and only worry about the other things if I've got any left.  The spoon theory is a more concrete way for me to understand why some days are more difficult than others.

Getting Things Done in a Virtual Environment

My kids haven't set foot inside a classroom since March of last year.  And honestly, I'm ok with that.   I would rather they be safely learning from home than be a danger of bringing COVID home to me or worrying that their teachers will die from it (as we've had happen in several of our surrounding counties).  However, I didn't realize just how much it would upset my own day to day work.

I don't think my house has been completely clean since before March.  Having all four of us home at once means more mess is being made and I'm having less free space to clean than I need.  Tedd and Rich both help, but they don't always see the messes that I see - rather, they are more likely to think something isn't part of the mess where it's driving me nuts.  

I usually like to have an audio book playing while I clean, which is difficult when I have people working in three different rooms, needing to listen to what a teacher or a collegue is saying.  The kitchen and the bathroom, which should be safe to clean, have the problem of being close enough to the rooms people are in that I disturb them or they disturb me.  I've tried using my headphones but they lose charge before I'm done.  And wired headphones have a tendency to get caught on things while I'm trying to clean.

On top of that, I have also found that I need to sit here while Pete is in class more often than not because he has a tendency to log out even though class is still ongoing.  I found out about that when one of his teachers called.  He's getting better, but I still need to keep checking on him to make sure he isn't skipping out.  And I need to make sure he's getting his homework done - though in a way, that's easier than when he was in person.  In person had him constantly telling me that he didn't have homework.  Then I'd find out from his teachers that he had so much outstanding it wasn't funny.  Now, I can check his schoology account and see what's due.  In person would be best for him, but at the moment virtual is safest.

Tedd has been doing great with virtual learning.  He's in all his classes, doing his homework immediately, and is being really responsible.  A lot of it, I think, is because he's able to keep his anxiety at bay.  He doesn't need to keep his camera on which helps him deal with things in ways that work best for him.  Also, he's a freshman now.  I think that makes a big difference.

So I've got to try to come up with a schedule that works for me.  I've been trying for the last 10 months, but I haven't found the one that works best for me yet.  Today is my day to focus on some of my organizational things.  I'm getting this post done.  I'm going to update my BuJo a bit more and try to figure out a schedule that makes sense.  I'm going to make lists of things that I want to get done in the next year.  I'm going to start my 52 week organization/cleaning book.  At least then I'll have something to write in my Today I...

Almost 3 years?

Yeah, I fell away from blogging hard for awhile.  I can't really say why - life, the universe, depression, kids... you know, the usual insanity that comes with being a mom who also suffers from depression and can't seem to keep on top of things.

 But I've decided that I need to make some changes, and regular writing is going to be one of those.  Will I keep a regular schedule?  Probably not.  At least, not at first.  At first, I'm just going to be writing about the day to day stuff, trying to get my thoughts out there, and give myself a bit of an outlet.  Over the last three years, I've tried a bunch of stuff - paper journaling, bullet journaling, apps to keep track of this, that and the other.  And very little of it has worked longer than a week or two.  I can't say for sure that this will work in the long run either.  But I'm hoping that it will.  Because I've got to do something more than a sentence at a time on Facebook.  It helps, too, that there probably aren't a lot of people that even check to see if this blog is active any more, so I'm hoping it won't be as much pressure.

I'm trying to remind myself that I don't need to be super-anything.  I need to remember that sometimes, just doing one small thing is enough.  Didn't get the house cleaned?  Well, at least there's a load of laundry done that hadn't been done yesterday.  Didn't write the number of posts I wanted to?  Hey, one post is more than I had this time last year.  Didn't read as much as I wanted to?  Hey, I'm enjoying binge-watching Criminal Minds so I'm still having fun.  That's what I need to remember above all else.

Right now, I feel like writing about some of the things happening in my life.  First, my boys are... growing.  A lot.  Teddy is 13. Thir. Teen.  As in, I have a teenager.  He's as tall as I am, his voice is starting to deepen and he's not my little boy any more.  He's got the teenage attitude, but still shows me love all the time.  He's also a chip off the old block, in that he is a super-geek with a wicked sense of humor.  He's at a 7 - 12 academic magnet school now (this past year was his first) and it's a big change for him.  He's finding it a lot more difficult than he'd expected so it's been a struggle, but he isn't giving up.  And that's what means the world to me.  That and the fact that he's now in his 3rd year of chorus (two at his old middle school, one here) and he's still loving it.  If nothing else, he's gotten that from me.

Pete is 10 and last year, we found out that he's on the Autism spectrum.  It explains a lot for us.  I'm still learning a lot when it comes to him - what I can and can't expect from him, how to deal with him when he has meltdowns, accepting that he probably won't have the same amount of friends that his brother has.  But he's still very much my baby - and probably always will be.  He loves math and science, hates reading and ELA.  Next year, he starts middle school (thank you school system that believes middle school should begin in 5th grade) and he's excited because his school has a robotics program.  He still follows his brother everywhere, wanting to be a lot like him.  He's got the same sense of humor and his geekiness is slightly different than Teddy's.  He's just 100% himself, and I wouldn't want it any other way.

Maybe next time, I'll talk a little more about me.  Right now, I need to get Pete and I ready for Teddy's end of year concert.  (And I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that school is over for the year a week from Thursday.)

Bring on the Labels!

A friend of mine over on Facebook shared this post from Scary Mommy's site. For those who don't feel like clicking through, it's a wonderful "heart to heart" post regarding labeling children and how, whether you like it or not, if you kid needs a label, your kid needs a label.

And I'm 157% behind her on this.  Because I've dealt with the system both with and without a label and let me tell you, having that diagnosis, that "label" makes a world of difference.

I remember the days before Pete got his ADHD diagnosis, even before he got his SPD diagnosis.  Days of wondering when the next phone call would come because of his bad behavior in his Parents' Day Out program.  Wondering why he didn't like almost any food.  Worrying about temper tantrums whenever we went out, or worrying that he would take his clothes off in the middle of the store.  Afraid that I was a bad parents because his behavior was so bad, and desperate to know what I had done differently between Teddy and Peter.  The fears that he'd never be successful in school because he was so far behind, academically and socially, what other kids his age were doing and how they were acting.  Despair that I would have to figure out how to home school him, because it would be his only option.

I remember the hope I had when we got into the Regional Intervention Program.  The tools they gave me made me feel so much more secure in what I was doing, even though the behavior problems were still there.  He was actually worse behaved on our last day at RIP than we were on our first.  But, even though there were the fears that he would still have problems in school, I knew that I was doing my best at home and I knew how to best let him know what was expected.

I remember talking to his doctor next about how far behind he was developmentally.  He wasn't holding a pencil as well as his peers, he wasn't quite as social, and didn't have the knowledge that he should have by then.  An evaluation at the Children's Rehab was in order, and that's where I found out about Sensory Perception Disorder (SPD).  I worked with his therapist on ways to make him more comfortable, to find where his limits were and to give him a little more of what he needed for starting school.

I remember being convinced that I had everything I needed to get him the help he would need at school.  I had a diagnosis, I'd requested a teacher both he and I already knew and I was ready to fill out an IEP for him.  But the SPD label wasn't enough.  The AAP (American Academy of Pediatricians) didn't recognize SPD as it's own separate disorder.  Because it was seen so often with children in the autism spectrum and children with ADHD, they bundled it as an effect rather than a disease itself.  So I had to fight to get his IEP meeting set up.  He had to go through a lot of the same testing again to get the considerations that he needed, like having speech therapy or having certain items in the classroom to help when he had sensory overload.  The school wanted to help, but their hands were tied because I didn't come in with the proper label.  (Though his teachers were fantastic in keeping in touch with me and helping work out ways to help him be in a position to learn.)

I remember his first suspension, when his lack of impulse control caused him to poke a friend in the chest with a pencil.  Not because he was angry or out of control but because he wanted to find out what would happen.  The anger fits, the taking off his shoes and chewing on his toes while sitting on the rug became worries of another time.  I knew that something more needed to be done.  That the IEP we had and the label of SPD wasn't enough.

I remember hearing back from his doctor when I told her about this and hearing the words "He may have ADHD.  If you and his teacher will fill out this paperwork, we can find out."  There was fear there.  ADHD brought visions of children drugged to zombiehood to mind, memories of "Ritilan Kids" when I was a girl.  I didn't want my wonderfully creative boy to lose that creativity and become someone other than himself. But I knew that something needed to be done.  So I passed the paperwork on to his teacher.  I filled out the paperwork myself.  And I turned them all in to his doctor, waiting to hear the verdict.

I remember a small sigh of relief, interspersed with the fear of "what now?!" when she told me that, based on the answers from his teacher and I, that he was ADHD.  And that we would need to meet to talk about the best medication to put him on.

I remember how much easier things got after that.  I was able to show the school an official diagnosis of ADHD and have it put into his file.  The label would follow him all through his school career, but it would mean he'd be able to get whatever help he'd need instead of having to fight over and over for it.  I was able to get him on Adderall, a drug that slowed his brain down enough that he became a fantastic student but didn't dull the creativity in the least.  Finally, we'd found the answer.  And if the answer came with a label, that wasn't what was important.  What was important was the answer.

We all have labels.  One of Pete's is ADHD.  One of mine is Depression Sufferer. One of Teddy's is Gifted  One of Rich's is Funny Guy.  But labels are just one part of what makes us who we are.  I can also label Pete as Creative.  Mine as Mommy.  Teddy's as Quick Tempered.  Rich's as Trivia Master.  The individual parts don't matter as much as the whole does.  And if anyone feels like that one label can define my child, me, or anyone else, they aren't someone whose opinion matters anyway.

Looking at the World Through a Different Filter

For a long time, we just thought that Pete was a difficult child.  He would throw temper tantrums if he was interrupted doing what he wanted to do.  He would run around, climbing on everything like a monkey.  He laughed at inappropriate times.  He was very picky about the foods he ate.  He never wanted to get dressed, sometimes running outside in our apartment complex naked.  He licked and bit a wide variety of things he shouldn't have.  He still sucked his thumb.

Because of his behavior, he was told that he wouldn't be able to come back to the Parents' Day Out that he'd been going to after his fourth year.  It just wasn't a good fit for him any more.  I tried the Regional Intervention Program. It gave me plenty of tools for dealing with him when he was driving me nuts, but he was still throwing fits when we graduated. He'd done a little better at the new PDO he went to the year before kindergarten, but he still had times when he would act out, or get out of control.  I wasn't sure where to go next, and the thought of him entering kindergarten scared me to death.

When we went for his 5 year Well Check Up, the doctor noticed that he was having some problems with his fine motor skills and suggested we have him evaluated in Pediatric Rehab.  So appointments were made, then rescheduled.  I took Pete in for an hour long evaluation.  I mentioned, along with the fine motor skills, some of the other behaviors that concerned me - the dislike of wearing clothing, the way he would chew on things that weren't food, how he'd get out of control sometimes and it was hard to get him calmed down.  After the evaluation was done, the therapist told me that, while she couldn't say for certain until all the scores were added up, she was pretty sure that Peter had Sensory Processing Disorder and they would most likely see him for therapy.

As we started therapy, I started to read up more on SPD.  What did it mean?  How did it effect Pete?  Where did it come from?  What I found out is that SPD is very controversial in the medical community.  The APA doesn't want doctors using it as a diagnosis because there is still so much unknown about it, and the symptoms of SPD were most often found in children that had other issues as well, such as autism, aspergers or ADHD. But there were a lot of therapies and tools out there to help children, regardless of what the diagnosis ended up being, to get the sensory input they need.

Pete is a sensory seeker. (Though he doesn't fit all the items on that list, he does fit some of them.) He always wants to snuggle with me or his dad or his brother. He needs that closeness whenever he's doing something. He has the TV loud a lot of the time. He crashes into things because he says it "feels good".  He has to have something in his mouth, especially when he's upset.

The problem, of course, is that SPD isn't an official diagnosis.  So in trying to get help for him at school, we're trying to figure out how to make his case fit so he'll get the help he needs.  I'm very lucky that his teacher is someone I know well and more than willing to work with me on things that will help him.  I'm also meeting with the school to see what we can do to get an IEP or a 504 in the works for him.   I'm very lucky that we are part of an excellent school with caring staff and teachers.

It amazes me, though, how much it's making me look at Peter differently.  No.  Not look at Pete differently, but at the way he sees the world.  His teacher noticed that every time they are walking in the hall, he has to touch the wall.  It's a byproduct of not having a good handle on the spatial world around him.  Today, I realized that he has an aversion to heat.  He needs bath or shower water several degrees cooler than any of the rest of my family.  If I have to wash Plo, he wants to have him out of the dryer long enough to be "cool" before he'll take him (or he'll get upset with me because I dared make Plo warm).  He lets his food cool almost completely before eating it.  Ice cream and ice pops are favorites.  Hot chocolate is not.  I've noticed that when he and Teddy fight, it's most often because Pete is getting too close, not accepting Teddy's personal space.  And that could be that desire for touch. (Or it could be that he's using his Little Brother powers to annoy the Big Brother.)  He doesn't like socks with his shoes.  Certain pieces of clothing that I think are comfortable are too scratchy.   The world is a very different place for my youngest, and I'm just learning to see how different.

It's hard, sometimes, to change from getting frustrated because I think Pete's just being difficult to realizing that it could be part of his sensory issues.  For so long, it was just Pete being Pete, always making things difficult.  And sometimes, I suspect he still is.  (Especially when he tries to tell me he doesn't know how to put on clothes and/or shoes I've seen him don 30 times before without any help.)  But I'm trying to teach myself to stop and look at the world with Pete's senses first before overreacting.  That maybe, just maybe, there's a pattern here and I can decode it to make life just a little easier for my sensitive boy.

The Past and the Present

Tomorrow, I will be braving the crowds of shoppers for Tax Free Weekend.  I will be armed with School Supply Lists, clothing and shoe sizes, and a list of other things that I want to pick up, since I'll be out. This year, I'll be supplying two kids for school instead of just one.  I'll be buying double the amount of pencils and erasers, sanitzers and Wet Wipes, than I've had to buy before.  And I don't know if it's because this is the first year I'm shopping for more than one child, or if it's just memories sparking as I'm getting older, but it brings to mind my mother returning home one year, a few weeks before I started school, laden with everything I would need to start the school year out right.

I can still see clearly my mother, sitting on the floor in our living room with a large bag or two from the store 30 minutes away from home.  I watched with anticipation as first one, then another, and another item came out that was going to have me ready for another year of school.  There was a school bag, and a metal lunch box with it's own thermos - what was on it is now lost to the mists of memory, but the feeling of having that wonderful lunch box with it's matching thermos, being in awe of the "new lunchbox smell" that it seemed to have for me, stays with me until this day.  I'm sure other things came out of the bag, like pencils and paper and other school essentials, but what I really remember most were the clothes.

One by one, my mother would pull out a new outfit for me to wear to school.  Cute dresses that would come up to my mid-thigh.  Matching pants and tops.  Shoes that matched perfectly with the clothes I was getting.  That day was like Christmas for me, all the new things that belonged to just me.  I was so excited to start school so I could begin using these things.

My kids probably won't share the same excitement.  School here in Nashville is very different than it was in small town New York.  The supplies will be communal for their classrooms.  The clothes will be Standard School Attire - blue, black or khaki pants, short sleeved collar shirts with nothing on them.  No lunch boxes, because school lunches are free for all students in the Metro Public School system.  Teddy may get excited over the backpack I get him (Pete already has an awesome Phineas and Ferb one), and Pete might be excited over the sneakers I buy for him (Teddy got a new pair at the end of last year that he has hardly worn).  And they may want to see what other goodies I get.  But I suspect they'll look at a few things and then, before I have a chance to finish pulling things from the bag, they'll ask if they can go play on the computer, or watch TV, or anything else that doesn't involve watching Mom pull items out of bags.

3 Weeks and Counting

3 Weeks from today, my youngest will start kindergarten. And I'm not sure I'm ready.

It's not for the reasons you'd think.  It's not the thought of him growing up, or being away from me all day.  I'm used to that from his Parents' Day Out program.  Granted, this is 5 days a week instead of 2, but I know that the consistency of being in a 5 day a week routine is going to be nothing but good for him.  Instead, I'm worried because... well, it's Pete.  And he's a very different kid than Teddy, with a bunch of different issues.

It started with behavior problems and other concerns in his PDO program.  He was combative with his teachers, he yelled and screamed, didn't learn his letters, couldn't hold a pencil right.  We thought it was mostly behavior rather than any kind of developmental delay, so we looked into the Regional Intervention Program.  It was highly recommended by both educators and other parents that I knew.  And it WAS good for me.  It gave me a lot more tools to deal with Pete when he got out of control.  And Pete did learn a few things there.  But by the time we "graduated", he was still having as many problems as he'd had before we started.  So I wasn't sure where to go next.

I met with his pediatrician, and she had expressed some concerns about his fine motor skills and suggested we go to Pediatric Rehab.  Ok, I figured.  Let's see what we can do there.  It took a couple months before they could see us and, as they were testing him, we found out that most of his problems weren't completely from stubbornness or bad parenting, but because he actually had something wrong with him - Sensory Processing Disorder. Basically, he needed sensation.  He wasn't getting it the same way most of us do, not feeling things as strongly (physically) or able to feel comfortable in the space around him.  So he pushed the limits to try to create the sensations he was craving.  Sitting still in a chair was tough on him.  He needed to wiggle and move because his body was telling him that's what had to happen.  He ran into walls at full speed so he could figure out where the boundaries were. He made loud noises and acted silly because that's what he felt he needed to do.  So what we needed to do was find a way to get him those things without being disruptive.  So we started Occupational Therapy with him once a week, both for the SPD and because his fine motor skills weren't where they should be at 5 1/2.

They've given me some great ideas for helping him deal with SPD.  Ways to help him get out the need to be active without being disruptive.  One of the things I do with him is have a "Push War".  He pushes against my hands as hard as he can, trying to push them back to my chest.  After we do it a couple of times, he's able to calm down a little.  Also, I try to give him "heavy work", like helping push the (full) laundry basket across the floor, or having to run to the dining room and bring me back one thing after another.  These little things are helping.

What worries me, though, is what will happen when school starts.  I'm trying to get an IEP or a 504 Plan for him so if he needs help with various things, we'll already have a plan in place for him to get that help.  Today, after many phone calls that weren't returned, I stopped by the school to talk with someone about it.  I need a diagnosis from a doctor - what they found at rehab just won't cut it.  And then, with the diagnosis, I need to bring it to the school and get the paperwork started. Then they'll have a meeting to discuss it, and the school psychologist will meet with Pete to test him again.  Only after all of that happens will be (hopefully) get something in place for him.  So I have an appointment with his pediatrician next Tuesday to see what I need to do to get a doctor's diagnosis.  I'm afraid that I'm going to have to go somewhere else to get him diagnosed and who knows how long that wait will be.  I'm worried that it will be October or December by the time we can finally get something in place for him, and by then, he'll be labeled a "problem child".

The one thing going for me is that I know his teacher this year.  It's the same teacher that Teddy had in kindergarten.  I have a good rapport with her, and her teaching style is one that Pete responds to positively.  (It's very similar to the style his current teacher at PDO has, which has worked wonders for him over this last year.)  But for all that I know she'll be willing to work with me on some things, I also know that her hands will be tied when it comes to how much leeway she can give him for things.  She will (I hope) understand that he's not meaning to be a problem.  And I know she'll get in touch with me if there are problems.  But the fear that he'll not get what he needs soon enough is one that won't leave me.

So now I wait, hope and pray.  Wait for school to start and see if he'll be ok.  Hope that we can get everything we need for him to succeed at school before it starts.  And pray that he'll be able to thrive because he's got who and what he needs behind him.

Graduation Day from PDO

I'm Coming Back

Obviously, I hadn't planned on being gone from my Blog for over a year.  If I had, I would have posted something to that effect.  Instead, life got very busy.  Trying to deal with Pete's behavior problems, trying to deal with my depression, trying to fight past constant fear that the apartment complex will kick me out.  And, honestly, my blog was the least important thing out of all the things I had going on.  I could put up short comments on Facebook to communicate.  It felt better for me that way.

But now, a lot of things are coming together.  We've found out what's wrong with Pete (Sensory Perception Disorder - and more on him in a later post).  I've gotten back on my meds.  I've made a plan to keep myself a bit more organized so I have time to have fun AND get things done.  I've started exercising with a Couch 2 5K program.  I'm following FlyLady again.  I'm giving myself permission to not be perfect. And, most importantly, both kids will be back in school starting August 6.

I'm not sure if I'll be able to get back to daily blogging, especially not before the kids start back to school.  But I am hoping that I'll be able to post at least once or twice a week.  I've got a lot of things on my mind that I want to write about, and I'm feeling like I have the time for it. So, if anyone is out there and actually still reading this blog, look out for more posts in the nearish future.  Because I'm glad to be back.

One of the big things that happened over this year was Teddy having his First Communion My handsome boys.

Sundays in My City

Yesterday was a day to be out and about for our family.  Lots and lots of errands to run, and a little time to play in the snow that was quickly melting from the night before.  I made sure to take lots of pics while we were out so I could share them today on Sundays in my City with Unknown Mami.

Sundays in My City

For the first time in many months, Rich and the boys have gone back to church.  Teddy's Religious Education Class is from 9:05 until 10:30 (when Mass starts) and Pete's is during Mass.  Rather than heading back home today while Teddy was in class, we let Pete play on the playground at the church.  He and Daddy had a great time, while I got a chance to take pictures.

Pour Your Heart Out - Finding What Works

Today was another rough day with Peter.  It started this morning when I told him it was time to get dressed.  He was watching a Pokemon video and didn't want to stop.  I warned him that if he didn't go pick out clothes and get dressed, I'd turn the video off.  He refused and the video went off.  And that's when the fit started.  Yelling. Screaming. Crying. Hitting.  Acting more like a two year old than a four and a half year old. I spanked him.  I chased him up the stairs.  I eventually picked out his clothes and told him that, because of his behavior, he wasn't having the video turned back on before going to school.  He still got angry and I had to forcibly dress him.  Of course, he still wanted his "movie" back on and got angrier when I didn't do it. Finally, I calmed myself down and had him sit on my lap.  I reminded him that I could't understand him when he cried and talked.  No one can.  I got him calm.  Then I told him that we were leaving in 10 minutes and that, no, he wouldn't have his video on before that.  But if he was good at school today, I would let him watch it when he got home.  Finally, he agreed, got his shoes and became the happy boy that I know is in there. On the way to school, we talked about vegetables.  He wants to plant some this spring.  I have a smaller planter and have been meaning, for several years now, to plant something so we can have fresh veggies at least part of the year without having to have the money to pay for them.  We talked about different vegetables that could go in salads and my son decided that he wanted all of them planted.  Not all, I assured him, but some.  Things were going really well when we walked in the door, still talking about vegetables and salads. I don't know why things went wrong from there.  He had the sillies, maybe.  But when we got to his hook to put up his things, he started acting like a goof.  Hitting his head back into the handle of his backpack and saying "Ow."  Pretending he couldn't put things away.  His teacher came out to help and told him that she wasn't going to have the nonsense from him today.  Which just made him mad.  We finally got him to put his stuff up, and he crossed his arms and I knew, I just knew, it was going to be a rough day.  I sat down and had him look at me.  I reminded him that he needed to be good and listen to Miss Kim if he wanted to watch Pokemon when he got home.  I asked him if he understood, he said yes, but still walked into the room with his arms crossed. I ran my (very brief) errand of going to the grocery store and was trying to decide if I had the energy to blog after all when my phone rang.  It was the name of the church that he has PDO at.  My heart sank. I knew what it was.  There was no other reason the director would be calling me.  And I was right.  Pete refused to pay attention to Miss Kim, having attitude when he was asked to do anything, or even flat out refusing to do so.  Laughing at her when she tried to discipline him.  So with tears in my eyes, I went to pick him up. I walked in and told him that I was not happy with him.  That we were going home and he was not watching TV.  He was being punished because I had to pick him up for misbehavior.  I talked with his teacher and, once again, ended up in tears.  I can't blame her for being frustrated with him.  He's 4 1/2.  He shouldn't be acting like this.  None of her other students do.  Teddy never did.  So it came as no surprise when she told me that if we can't figure out what will get him to behave, that they may have to ask him to stop coming.  (Though the director assures me that we'll do everything in our power to find that.  She doesn't want to give up on him.  And for that, I'm grateful.) Pete and I talked in the car.  He knew I was upset, and he knew why I was upset.  He knew that if he didn't stop misbehaving, he would be told he couldn't come back and be with his friends.  And he knew that neither of us wanted that.  I told him that we were going home.  I would not turn on the TV for him today.  When we got home, we would work on the worksheet he refused to do at school.  He would eat his lunch and then we would both lay down and take a nap.  He was very subdued as we drove home.
His pep came back as we pulled up in front of the apartment, though.  He started to try being silly as he got out of the van, but I reminded him that it was what got him in trouble earlier.  So a little of the silliness stayed, just enough to make him happy.  He put his jacket and bags up as soon as we got in the house, then came right to the kitchen table with me to work on his worksheet.  He listened to me and did what he was supposed to.  I got to help teach him.  Then lunch (which he ate all up) and finally, nap time.  No fighting, no screaming, no yelling.  And he napped for almost 3 1/2 hours.
He just woke up now, coming downstairs happy, no Plo in his hands, no thumb in his mouth, smiling.  He told me he had a good nap.  He sat on my lap and told me his truth for the day, "Sometimes monsters come out of closets and sometimes they don't."  He snuggled me for a few minutes before I sent him off to play with his toys.  "Teddy'll be home soon, right?" he asked, and walked away smiling when I assured him he would.
There are going to be some changes around here from now on.  Things that I'm hoping will work to make it easier here and easier at school.  No more TV on all the time.  (And no more tons-of-computer time for Teddy either.)  I'm going to pull out the Preschool workbook he has and make sure to work on it with him every day.  We're going to practice his letters, his numbers and everything else we can work on.  We're going to have Mommy and Peter play time every day.  If the weather cooperates, we're going to spend more time outside.  There's a play area here in the complex (though I don't care much for it) and plenty of playgrounds in the vicinity. We're going to have afternoon naps again, because it makes a difference for him. And we're contacting a group called RIP (Regional Intervention Program) that is set up for exactly these kinds of problems.
I'm afraid that so much of this is my fault.  That I haven't been doing the things with Teddy that I did with him and that I'm shorting him for it.  I know that it's not too late to have him learn how to behave.  I know that I'll be able, with help, to find the things that work for him.  He's not hopeless, and neither am I.  It's just a matter of finding what works to bring out the best in both of us.

My happy boy, playing with his toys