I want to write a happy post ...

... full of cheerful holiday snark and recounting the Great Flying Menorah Incident of 2012, as well as the Quest for the Purple Bunny, but first I want to say this.

If you haven't yet read this blog post, that is one sturdy rock you've been hiding under. Read it now.

Because I agree with the writer (and my heart goes out to her). I think this country needs to have a serious discussion about mental illness. And about learning disabilities and mental disorders and how to handle kids who have clear issues without A. pretending there is no issue or B. writing the kid off as a loner/geek/nutbar and doing absolutely nothing about it.

Look, my kid is not on the level of the writer's son, or Adam Lanza or Jared Loughner or etc. He is the exact opposite of antisocial -- he loves people and thinks they should all be his friends. Kiddo has trouble with impulsivity and hyperactivity. He can't sit still. He misses social cues. He needs constant reminders about personal space. He's gotten better about not running in parking lots (thankfully). My point is this: He's not a "maybe" case of ADHD. He's a "totally." Every medical or educational professional who evaluates him says the same thing. The school OT, examining him last month, saw all the exact same sensory and impulsivity issues that the private OT saw during their examination in April. He was initially diagnosed in February. And where are we at, 10 months later? He's got a 504 plan that may or may not be enough for him. He's got a behavioral therapist who's dropping our insurance. He's disrupting class activities. He's still under observation by the school social worker, who will present her report to us when next we all meet, whenever that is, though not this calendar year, obviously.

He's got an acknowledged problem, and 10 months later I would not consider that problem even close to solved, or properly dealt with. Now imagine kiddo was more like Adam Lanza. Imagine waiting to deal with the problem when the problem could be fatal.

Learning disabilities, mental disorders, mental illness, do not just go away or get better on their own. Early intervention is crucial. And that intervention needs to be across the board -- school, home, wherever. Everywhere. Parents can't deal with this stuff on their own. They need help. 

There has to be a way to speed up the bureaucracy. There has to be a way to increase federal funding. There has to be something more we can do.

Not just because I want kiddo to be able to reach his full potential. Because I think he should be able to sit in class without fearing for his life.

Sigh.

I don't really know what to say about the Connecticut shootings, other than it's horrible and I don't know why this keeps happening. I can't even imagine being those parents right now. I feel profoundly lucky that our biggest concern today is buying a new tree stand, not planning a funeral.

I don't know why the shooters are always boys. What possesses them? What are they thinking? Are they so unable to process their pain or their anger or their trauma or whatever it is that they need to spread that pain around before ending everything?

How do we stop it from happening?

I will say it concerns me that the suspect was (allegedly) autistic, or had some other sort of disorder (no one seems clear on that yet). Because I would hate to have people leap to conclusions about autistic kids.

Clearly I'm not the only one concerned about that. From cnn.com:

"Autism is not a mental health disorder - it is a neurodevelopmental disorder," said the Autism Research Institute's Autistic Global Initiative Project. "The eyes of the world are on this wrenching tragedy -- with 1 in 88 now diagnosed, misinformation could easily trigger increased prejudice and misunderstanding."

There are a few similarities between autistic (at least Asperger's) kids and ADHD kids -- increased smarts coupled with an inability to read social cues. So I have an interest in these matters.

I spent most of yesterday checking in on the story on my phone, even while DH and I were doing gift shopping, even while we were out at a rare kid-free dinner (thanks to MIL). At one point we were in the car and a rock station played "Jeremy," and while I'm normally happy to hear Pearl Jam this struck me as unbelievably inappropriate and we switched stations. Hey, why not play Boomtown Rats while you're at it? Throw in Foster the People's "Pumped Up Kicks" and you can have a whole school shooting playlist. How totally ironic and postmodern. Jerks.

Sigh.

Anyway. Kiddo is doing okay-ish. Still acting up in class, with a little less hitting and pushing. He's already started OT, which is wonderful, and the school agreed to some other accommodations, including a behavior chart with specific rewards he can earn (the school social worker who set it up for him reported he seemed pretty excited about it) and a squishy fidget toy for him to hold during class. I think compression shirts seem to help him, so I'm going to buy a few more. The school is still balking at an IEP but they did say it's the next step if these modifications don't work. So we'll see. Being patient is annoying but no bureaucracy in the history of ever has moved quickly on anything.


I think we could all use the holiday break, frankly. I'm wiped. Kiddo whines every morning, "I don't want to go to school!" Some time away would do us all good.

And again, so grateful that we get to have a normal Christmas vacation.

The up-and-down day

Yesterday morning, we were heading out to buy a dryer. Yes, we are exciting folk. Our current dryer needs a new motor, and a few other things, and since the dryer is probably original to the house (we're the second owners), along with all the other appliances, it just made more sense to replace it. And soon, because hauling wet clothes to the Laundromat is nowhere near as much fun as it sounds.

So we were driving out to the main road and we saw a dog running loose, and a woman and several kids running after him. We watched worriedly as the dog kept dodging them, thisway thatway thisway, and then he ran across the road, with a boy chasing him, and we both gasped a little. The dog came back across and we pulled over. DH called out to the woman, asking if she needed help. Then the dog dodged them again and I hopped out of the car and started running after him myself.

The dog, whose name was Patches and appeared to be some sort of tall pitbull mix, if that's even possible, was fast, and clearly having the time of his life. This was the best game of Keep-Away ever! I got really close a couple of times and reached out to grab his collar, and at the last second he dodged me and ran off again. The woman, flustered, kept explaining that this was the first time he had ever gotten out. Random other people kept pulling over to help too, including a big burly guy in a delivery truck, but he was uncatchable. Finally I just crouched down nearby and started calling him, hand out. "Patches, c'mere! You know you don't belong out here!" Curiously, he came over and sniffed my hand.

"I'll grab his collar!" the owner said behind me, as one of the kids handed me a dog treat to give him.

"I've got it," I said calmly, and once he realized he was about to be leashed, he started trying to jerk away, but I gave him the treat and he calmed down some.

The owner and I introduced ourselves to each other, and she thanked me profusely, saying her biggest worry was all the kids running around after the dog. She couldn't understand why Patches would come to a stranger but not her. "Strangers have more interesting smells," I pointed out.

So that happened. And then this happened.

We went to two stores -- one to order the dryer (yay), one to buy a Hanukkah present for my sister and her husband. It was not kiddo's most shining hour. He kept wandering off, not listening, yanking back on my hand and collapsing on the floor when I tried to make him walk with us. As he does. The second store was the worst, because it was crowded with holiday shoppers and full of pretty lights and sparkly things. He's lousy in crowds and easily overstimulated by bright lights and toys to buy and such. So we were basically just dragging him around, and periodically this sort of thing gets in my head and I think the other shoppers must think he's such a brat and then I start snapping at him, because I get tired of looking like That Mom. So we made it to the register and paid with a minimum of whining and tantruming and then he tried to wander off the other direction afterward, and I yanked on his hand and he stumbled into the counter with a clunk. And then he lost it entirely, and I had to hustle him out of there before he broke the other customers' eardrums. I let him have it outside the store, and DH calmed him down, and the good cop/bad cop routine more or less worked.

Why is it I have more patience for a strange dog than I do for my own son?

Because the dog doesn't know any better? But neither does my son. And even though intellectually I know he can't help himself, that a crowded store is probably the last place on Earth we should be bringing him, it's sometimes impossible to remember in the moment. And I can't help wishing that one time we could bring him somewhere without worrying that he's going to bolt in the opposite direction, just because he feels like it.

On the plus side, we're halfway done with the shopping.

The week in ADHD news

One of the more aggravating things about ADHD is feeling like you have to constantly convince people that it's real. And not some made-up excuse to drug a bratty kid into submission. Or a way of justifying bad parenting. Etc.

Which was why it was sort of heartening to read about this study out of Sweden, which found that teens and adults with ADHD were more likely to commit criminal behavior -- but dramatically less likely to commit criminal behavior if they were still on ADHD medication. Said a professor who's researched ADHD but wasn't involved in this study:
"There definitely is a perception that it's a disease of childhood and you outgrow your need for medicines. We're beginning to understand that ADHD is a condition for many people that really lasts throughout their life."

Probably I should be flipping out about the idea that kiddo is more prone to criminal behavior, but I'm just delighted to see an article based on the idea that ADHD is real. As opposed to wondering whether it is real, or whether it's overdiagnosed, etc.

On the other hand, there was this story, which found that the youngest kids in a class were more likely to have trouble with academics and behavioral issues, and were also 50 percent more likely than the oldest kids in their class to be prescribed ADHD medications by the time they hit seventh grade.

In other words: 1. Maybe meds are overprescribed after all. 2. The parents who obsess about school cutoff dates and holding their kids back an extra year might actually have the right idea. Although the researchers said the study might not be conclusive across the board, and could possibly also mean that ADHD is undertreated in the older kids, not overtreated in the younger kids.

So, a bit of an up-and-down week in news stories.

In more local (ahem) news, kiddo had a couple of good days this week, thus proving that it's possible for him to have good days. We restarted the star chart and that seems to have made an impression. I also, for whatever it's worth, started giving him gluten-free foods. I'm not being completely strict about it -- if I were, I would've banned all gluten from his diet for a few weeks to see if it made a difference -- but I am keeping him gluten-free at school, just to see what happens. Supposedly ADHD kids sometimes have food sensitivities -- not allergies -- to gluten and/or dairy.  If I get the sense that any of his behavior is somehow food-related, I'll modify his diet further.

There is of course the possibility that he'll be this way no matter what he eats, so I'm not being too obsessive about it.

The OT at school finished her assessment so we should have some results this coming week, when we meet with the school again. Kiddo's teacher noted that the OT said he seemed distracted during the evaluation. Again, glad they're seeing what we're seeing. The in-class observation won't happen till December -- thanks a lot, Sandy -- and we'll meet on those results in January. Progress is progress.

At any rate, kiddo and kiddette had a lovely Thanksgiving and even tried to dance along with the Rockettes during the parade. And since all of our immediate neighbors have already put up their Christmas lights, it's time to move on to the December Month of Shopping Madness and Way Too Much Sugar. Um ... hooray?

And now back to our regularly scheduled angst

Just before that whole storm thing, DH and I met with various school officials for that RTI meeting. It seemed promising. I don't think I've ever been in a meeting where everyone involved was so utterly on the same page. That being: Kiddo is smart -- even a little ahead of the game academically -- likable and happy, but he can't sit still, can't focus well, needs constant supervision, doesn't deal well with transitions and has trouble interacting with other kids. We knew all this already, but it was nice that the others all saw it, too. So they planned to do in-class observation to figure out what needs to be done next, and we were waiting on the evaluation from the school occupational therapist. And then the storm hit and I have no idea where we are on any of this.

In the meantime, he's had a lousy week. Not listening. Refusing to work. Getting in scuffles with the other kids. Pushing, apparently unprovoked. And then coming home and lying to us about how his day was. His teacher's been emailing us daily updates, of course, so we call him out on that. I even read him one of the emails.

The lying bothers me but it's apparently pretty common in ADHD kids (not to mention kids in general, I imagine). They can't control their behavior, they feel bad about what they did, they try to cover it up. I think as long as we keep reminding him it's wrong, and show him we know the truth anyway, he'll give it up. At least I hope.

He keeps name-checking one kid in class as taunting him, claiming the kid calls him a "bad boy." Which seems pretty plausible, considering I met this kid on the zoo trip and either he's got what kiddo has, or he's a jerk. But kiddo is going to have to be able to deal with this stuff. I told him not to play with the kid, and that just because someone calls you a name doesn't mean it's true. But his teacher has observed that kiddo seems drawn to the kids who are likely to clash with him and make fun of him. Not sure what that's about. Maybe he wants attention so badly he'll put up with negative attention? Maybe he doesn't know a jerk when he sees one?

Two other problems: His talking doctor -- aka his behavioral therapist -- is about to stop taking our insurance. And his gym doctor -- aka his occupational therapy facility -- is no longer a option, because of billing issues. As in, they agreed to take our insurance even though they don't usually, and they don't really have a medical billing person on staff, just an office assistant, and our insurer had no record of any of the claims all summer but we didn't know that until the owner called us in a panic, because there was this $2,000 unpaid bill and other people owed them money too and she was afraid they'd have to shut down. This was probably information we could've used before the bill became $2,000. Anyway I've been calling the insurer, and making the OT resend claims, and they've been getting payments slowly but complaining that the payments aren't enough, and trying to make us pay the balance, and then the last month's worth of claims were denied because the code on them was deemed not medically necessary. When I told the office assistant that, she told me to call the insurer and find out which codes they meant. And then I blew up at her via email, on the grounds that I was not doing her job for her.

The upshot: The owner called the insurer instead to try and work things out. She also frostily informed me via email that she had decided not to accept insurance in the future. I frostily replied that we appreciated all their help but were trying for in-school OT, and that would probably be best for everyone involved.

I'm hoping school OT comes through, obviously.

So: No talking doctor, no gym doctor. No support system for kiddo, right when he needs it most. That has to be a factor in his behavior. Frustrating because I know he loved going to both. I'll try and find another therapist, maybe one who focuses on social skills. I'll find him something else. I do hope the school comes through on some help.

At least they see there's a problem. A lot of times, school officials either think ADHD is bogus or they think the kid's problem is bad parenting, or they (illegally) push the parents to medicate. But here, they seem to know what they're doing. And they like him.

He really is a sweetheart of a kid. If we could just help him figure out how to be the best version of himself, instead of the worst.

Quite the fun week

It's an odd thing when nearly everyone you know has lost power, and you feel guilty because you haven't. And you don't have to exist on takeout and charging your phone at warming stations and standing in the cold for hours to get gas for your generator. And you drive home from work in the dark and it's extra darkness all around you because all the homes and businesses have no lights.

Not to mention the trees down everywhere and the power lines hanging down to the ground. Kiddo and I have already had the discussion about how he should never ever touch power lines.

We did wait on a gas line last weekend, because I had a quarter-tank left and it was an even day and I couldn't put it off any longer. (Seriously, I have no idea why the governor was so confident in our math skills with this even-odd rationing thing. Question I saw on Twitter: "Is zero even or odd?") I told kiddo to bring some books and a toy, and I took some snacks along just in case. We ended up only waiting a half-hour or so, which these days, isn't bad.

About the books: I've known for a while that kiddo basically could read. He's been trying to sound out whatever words he sees, and when his teacher sent home sheets of words to make into flash cards, he already knew every one. The only thing stopping him was that he hadn't realized it yet. So he was contentedly sounding out words in the car seat, and I was checking things on my phone, and suddenly he announced: "I can read!" I agreed that yes, he could, and that moment made the whole gas line worth it.

 The rescheduled Halloween went off as planned. At least in our neighborhood it did, because we had power, along with the quiet streets and sidewalks that usually attract kids from outside the development to begin with. Our neighborhood was probably one of the few in the area where kids could go trick or treating safely. So everyone came here. We didn't run out of candy, but if the doorbell-ringing had gone on too much past 8 we would've. DH took our kids around. I was working from home, so I sat on the floor near the front door with my laptop, ready to jump up and grab the candy bowl when necessary. Wonderful for my back, I'm sure. But still easier than getting up from the dining room, sitting back down, getting up, sitting down, etc.

I'm pretty sure some kids were repeat customers. I pretended not to notice.

Some of the neighbors were complaining afterward about all the non-residents showing up for candy, and how they like it better when they know all the kids they see. I wasn't really bothered. Mainly I feel bad for the kids. Two Halloweens in a row have been utter weather disasters, and instead of celebrating, the kids have been stuck in the dark and cold, watching their parents freak out about the spoiled food and the lack of child care. Or they've lost their roof or their whole house. Not fair, not right. They deserve to have the happy Halloweens I did when I was growing up. If that means their parents drive them to my street for candy, that's fine by me.

Anyway, if it's in the house I'll eat it. I've already been pilfering the kids' stash.

I think at this point everyone we know has power back, and the kids' schools are finally open again, so no more days of pounding away at our laptops while the kids watch way too much TV. I'm hoping they didn't lose too many brain cells. Monday should be back to normal. Ish.

I know we're profoundly lucky to have our house and our health, since a lot of other people can't say the same.

My Shore of ruins

With apologies to Springsteen. Who, for the record, I think should have played "Wrecking Ball" during the Sandy benefit concert, instead of "Land of Hope and Dreams," which after all lost a little resonance when it became the MLB postseason theme. Just saying.

We're OK. We shockingly didn't lose power. There were a few moments Monday night, very early Tuesday morning, when it went out and we thought, OK, that's it then, but then it came back on. DH and I sat in front of the TV, tuned to News 12, and listening to the wind whipping around the house and the creaking all around us, and waited for things to get worse but they never really did. Eventually we quit dozing on the couch and went to bed.

The kids slept through it. I have no idea how.

In the morning we still had power and school was closed. (We didn't know, of course, that school would be closed all week. It may or may not be open tomorrow. There is some cabin fever going on.) The house seemed OK. Here is how much we lucked out: Wednesday or Thursday, when we finally ventured outside, we discovered the two huge evergreens on either side of the house had both been uprooted. Completely out of the ground. Both of them fell away from the house. In opposite directions. They're like dead tree bookends.

We kept watching News 12. And hit up Twitter and Facebook. And then we started to see the images from the Shore.

Look, I'm from South Jersey. I grew up on boardwalks. I've been on the rides at Seaside Heights and I've played the cranes in Point Pleasant. I love that little aquarium there. I've admired the pretty beachside houses and hung out at Jenkinson's and eaten my share of funnel cake and boardwalk fries fresh out of the fryer, which are the best fries in the world.

When I was even younger, and we lived in Monmouth County, we used to go to Keansburg. There was a giant undulating slide that you went down sitting on a burlap sack, and there was a rotating helicopter ride where you could make the copters go up and down as they went around. There was a duck game, where you just picked up little plastic ducks as they floated past you and whatever was written on the bottom determined the prize you got.

All of that is wrecked now.

The images of devastation keep horrifying me over and over. I feel terrible for all the people who lost their homes. But the shot that really went right to my heart was seeing the roller coaster at Seaside Heights sitting in the ocean.

We didn't make it down to the beach this summer. It's a long drive now, and I hate sitting in Shore traffic -- like I'm somehow above it because I used to live 20 minutes away. Plus we have a pool nearby. But I wish we'd tried. Because I really liked bringing my kids to the places I used to love. I liked watching them on the beach and trying to win them stuffed animals in the arcades, the way my father did for me. I liked watching them shriek with pleasure on the kiddie rides. And I don't think we'll be able to do that again. Not for a long time, if ever.

Things might get better. But they won't be the same.