Discipline, rights, and privileges

I've been hearing from a few different sources about what may constitute appropriate rewards for a token economy and this concept of special time with parents keeps coming up. And I've got to tell you, it raises my hackles. If this works for your children, in your family, that is awesome. As I've said before and will no doubt say again, just because something is wrong for my family doesn't mean it is wrong for your family. And to me, the idea that a child needs to earn the privilege of spending special time with his parents sets off the kind of deep, bellowing alarm bells every mother knows not to ignore.

To me, there is a big difference between special outings and special moments. A trip to the movies? Sure, that can be earned. Chuck E. Cheese (or as we refer to it, The Hideous Rat) or a dinner out at a favorite restaurant? Absoulutely. Things of that ilk can be put firmly into the category of "privileges Sam earns for good behavior."

But reading a story with me? A walk on a spring evening? Heading to the farm to see newborn animals? Going to the creek to see the first bluebells? Catching fireflies with his father on the first summer nights? These are the rights of childhood. I will not make these experiences conditional on behavior. Obviously, if his behavior is atrocious I might elect to postpone these, but he doesn't need to earn these. Spending special time with your loved ones is unconditional in this family. You don't need to be good, or smart, or funny, or obedient, or having a good day to participate in family life. These activities are ones that nourish our souls and replenish the wellspring from which we draw on in times of stress and trouble. I will not ration my son's childhood.

Doctor, Doctor, give me the news

So we went to Children's National Medical Center yesterday, which kind of rocked. Except for the horrifically long wait, but I always pack for bear when going to a doctor's office, so that didn't really bother me. I really liked the developmental ped we saw. She was personable, had great rapport with Sam, and told me exactly what I wanted to hear in terms of her reliance on meds--that they can be incredibly helpful, but tend to be a short term fix, and behavior modification is at least as important. Also that it would be inappropriate to drug my preshus baybee at this point on the game.

As expected, we did not come away with an official diagnosis. Other than her official diagnosis of "a delightful child, and clearly extremely bright." That's right. It has finally been declared by a disinterested third party. He is delightful. But in terms of his Very Unique Qualities, she said he was showing characteristics of both ADHD and some sensory issues. She suggested occupational therapy, and we'll come back for a follow-up in about six months, after the school year starts next year. We're on the road to getting Sam an official diagnosis by the time he's in kindergarten.

The good news is that we are fully on track in terms of getting him the services he needs. The doctor said she actually didn't have much she could tell me, because I was already doing so well with him. She was impressed at how well I understood Sam and his issues and how well I manage them. Which is the significant upside of being a mother-child ADD pair. I get him. I never look at him and think what the hell is going on in your brain? At least not more than most mothers do. I mean, I ask that when he tells me that my new! precious! exquisite! candle smells like Angry Birds. (It does NOT. It smells like Tuscan Blood Orange! And spring! and cleanliness! And LUXURY!) But when he's doing his Funky Stuff, I know what he is going through. I'm able to do a lot of the things he needs because they are the same things that I needed when I was a child--and often the same things I still need today.

Which is hardly to say I am a perfect mom. Just because I know ADHD intimately does not mean I don't also get overwhelmed with what it means to parent a child who is so much more intense than his peers. I lose patience, and I yell, and I let him get away with things he shouldn't sometimes because I am just so damn tired and I don't have the energy to deal with it. I try to let that happen as infrequently as possible, but I think the vast majority of parents have times when they pretend they don't see something because they just cannot deal with it. Not don't want to deal with it, but can not.

In other news, we are getting Sam the Man his new twin bed this weekend. I earned the money for it all by myself with hours and hours of painstaking editing. I am a mother who slaves away for my child's benefit. You know, in my pajamas, but still.

Steps to diagnosis

We have an appointment with a developmental pediatrician at Children's National tomorrow. Woot.

I also have a metric fuck ton of editing to do (yes, I now freelance, call me for all your academic editing needs), so this will be short and sweet.

An update tomorrow or Thursday. I do NOT expect to walk out the door with a diagnosis, but at least we're stepping onto the path now.

Take Me for a Ride in Your Car, Car

So one of the more interesting aspects of being an ADD mom with an ADHD kid comes to play in the car. Sam talks in the car, CONSTANTLY. Like, demanding interactive answer kind of talking. I have ADD too. Which means it is super hard for me to tune him out. Ignoring him takes about 50-60% effort level for me. AND when there is traffic, or I'm trying to find my way someplace, it really requires 100% of my attention. So what's a mom to do?

A dear friend gave me some great tools for behavior modification, but for right now, the car isn't the place to start working on those. I need a solution that will work immediately, not one that gets worse before it gets better, which tends to be the case with behavior mod. Even if the "getting worse" period is just a few days, that presents a safety risk that I am unwilling to take.

So instead we're going with distraction. This has worked pretty well so far--I tell Sam that we can't talk right now, and pass back some coloring sheets and markers. Except then when we get to our destination, he is covered with marker, the caps are all missing, and it is a frightening hassle to try to get everything all put back together. I'm looking for ways to make my life easier, not trade one difficulty for another. Sure, I can substitute crayons for markers, and I will, but there are two main problems with that--Sam will break the crayons and then bitch about it, AND he'll get tired of it pretty quickly. So I need a grab-bag of quiet, mess-free activities for the car.  Here are the ideas I have so far:

• I'm going to make a bunch of CDs with his favorite music on them so he can sing along. I can ignore singing, just not questions. 
• Some string and cheerios so he can make necklaces. 
• Craft sticks with velcro attached so he can build. 
• A cloth bag with magnetic toys inside and his magnetic fishing pole
• Various snacks

That's about all I got. Your ideas??

Playing your cards right

So yesterday I officially played the special needs card for the first time. Sam is now taking swimming lessons, and as he does with many new(-ish) physical experiences, he really needs 10 minutes or so to warm up to the idea. It's not like he'll scream and throw a bloody freaking fit if he doesn't get those ten minutes (at least not anymore), but the whole experience is just so much smoother, more productive, and pleasant for all those involved (and anyone in earshot) if he gets to warm up first. BUT. There is no "free swim time" before lessons. So I got some bitchface from the lifeguard, and I just said "My son has some special needs and he really needs to warm up to the idea of being in the water for 10 minutes or so before his lesson starts." She gave me a "what a pain in the ass" look and then said okay. I was within arm's reach of Sam at all times and made sure he didn't interfere with any other lessons.

Which is bullshit. I suspect that there are any number of kids that need some time to warm up to being in the water before they start a lesson, and there's no reason why everyone shouldn't be allowed to do that if they genuinely need it. But because we, as a society, treat disorders instead of children, having that special needs label can work wonders. It was, quite frankly, pretty awesome to be able to play that card to get my kid what he needed, no more questions asked.

Of course, it also SUCKS to label your child. Sam is SO much more than just a "special needs" label, and I'd lay money that every mother feels the same way about her child, regardless of how severe the disability.  I don't even consider ADHD to BE a disability, just a different way of experiencing the world. And so it feels really weird and awful to say "Oh yes, my kid has special needs." Even though it's true; he DOES need accommodations that most other children don't because of how his brain works. And the very fact that I feel shitty saying so is an indication of just how much stigma society still attaches to anyone who is different.  That's clearly an issue I need to work on. No parent should feel shame in asking for what their child needs.

The Long and Winding Road (to a diagnosis)

So I went and talked to the pediatrician about Sam's stuff. She suggested getting him evaluated through through the schools. I documented, got his teacher to document, and today we had his re-evaluation meeting. Well, it turns out that I documented SO WELL that a formal behavior evaluation would be superfluous. So, awesome?

I agreed that it didn't make sense to do an evaluation since it wouldn't lead to a diagnosis, and it's not like he'd qualify for services with the eval that he wouldn't now. I got the draft of his new IEP and it has some behavior-related goals on there, which is pretty much all I want out of the schools right now. So we're good. (Except his goals are kind of laughable to me. "With 80% accuracy on 4 out of 5 opportunities Sam will comply with adult requests and directions with no more than one prompt." Have you MET my kid?)

But now I'm back at square one again in terms of a diagnosis. I'm trying to get Sam an appointment with the Children's National ADHD clinic. I initially didn't want to do that because the clinic in Northern Virginia is all filled up and I didn't want to go into the city. But now I'm starting to realize that the options for getting a preschooler diagnosed are probably going to dictate going into the city.  I'm hopeful that THIS step will result in getting us closer to a diagnosis so we can start to get some services rolling.

Today at preschool pickup I had to park the car and get Sam off the playground because he wouldn't come when his teacher called him. It was embarrassing, frustrating, and increasingly common. Today I feel like whenever we make progress on these behavior issues, it is two steps forward and two steps back. I think it is time to try to figure out some new techniques.

Re-Eval

So tomorrow I get to do Sam's re-evaluation through the public schools. I spent about 45 minutes last night typing up a list of accommodations that we find ourselves making for Sam, accommodations that affect our day-to-day lives. For instance, we can't do anything before Sam has school, because he needs a couple hours to start mentally preparing himself. If he doesn't have that time, he has a really bad day at school. Its as though he needs to save up all his mental energy to focus at school, and if he needs to expand any of it to deal with anything even slightly out of the norm, like a playdate, or going to the park, he doesn't have enough to get through circle time. I would love to learn some techniques for making this all easier for him. Next year he'll be going to school first thing in the morning, which I think might also help.