The backpack is packed.

I have no idea why kiddo needs a highlighter, but the list says he does, so there you go. I'm just not picturing him marking relevant points in his addition and subtraction workbook, is all. Also unclear on the index cards and the dry-erase board markers. But they're in the backpack, along with the folders and the pencil case and the Ziploc bags and the extra crayons and the kitchen sink. I had him carry the backpack around just to make sure he could, because it's heavy. At least most of that stuff is going in his desk once he gets there.

So the supplies are ready. I'm a little unclear on whether kiddo is ready. He's been OK this summer -- some extra bounciness in the transition from kindergarten to full-day daycare, more running around and less listening, but he more or less settled down as far as we can tell. At least we didn't get complaints from the teachers. We did the library's summer reading program, kind of, except the library wasn't open on Sundays, and if we were busy that Saturday, we weren't getting to the library that week. Once again I suspect that library programs are meant for stay-at-home parents. The killer, of course, is that we read to the kids all the time -- we just don't always get the chance to prove it by marking the minutes down on a sheet.

Kiddo seems excited, I think, though he may just be excited by the new backpack (it's Angry Birds). I'm hoping at least one of his buddies from daycare, or from kindergarten, ends up in his class, although honestly he's so uber-friendly it might not matter that much. We were at the playground yesterday, and within two minutes he was running around with a couple other boys he'd never met before, and they were taking turns spinning each other around on the giant swing by twisting the chains and letting go (pretty sure this was not an approved use of the swing but OK).


Am I ready? Well. I'm never going to react to these milestones the way a mother of a neurotypical kid would. I won't get all teary-eyed about my baby growing up; I'll worry about whether he listens well or has a meltdown, or runs around on the bus, or throws things -- most of which he quit doing last year, but still. I'll keep pushing for our first meeting with the new 504 coordinator. I'll try and figure out when to start sending the weighted vest to school. I'll obsess about trying to get extra protein into a kid who doesn't like lunchmeat and can't bring nuts to school. (At least he likes soy nut butter. And cheese. Anything cheese.)

I feel robbed, in a way, that I don't get to just sit back and coo over my brand-new first-grader, and go on with my day. But he's my kiddo and I wouldn't trade him for anything. So I'll do whatever it takes to help him get through this school business. For the first day, and all the days afterward.

Dear back, you are stupid and I hate you.

I mean honestly, how do I go from "hmm, my back is bothering me, I must be sitting too much, let me get a little more active this weekend" to "oh wow, I can't get out of bed without crawling"? Should there not be some sort of in-between step there? Like a warning light that comes on right before my back gives out? Some sort of computer voice doing a countdown to a chiropractor visit?

And "getting active" did not exactly mean running a 5K. Which trust me I will never in my life be doing. I picked up some plants at a plant farm, and then went to BJ's. Granted pushing a cart around at BJ's probably qualifies as resistance training for football players. But I'd done it before with no problem, until now. So much for stocking up on cereal and roasted almonds.

So I went to the doctor, started physical therapy and went back to the chiropractor. The doctor (naturally) gave me medication. The physical therapy facility has way better heating pads than I do, and they're all nice, and they have me do particular exercises to stretch out the areas that need stretching. The chiropractor did not approve of my doing gardening without a back brace, and so now I own one. A back brace. It attaches with Velcro. Perhaps I can get a walker for the next breakdown and then have the complete "I'm an Old Fart!" set.

Next I'll be eating dinner at 4 p.m. daily and complaining loudly about kids today.

(Side note: While DH and I lived in Florida, we for whatever reason opted for an early dinner at a restaurant -- and were the youngest people in it by about 40 years. I make early bird special jokes because they're true.)

I am starting to feel more normalish again this week, although I'm still in physical therapy. I also switched out my purse, since according to Oprah, certain types of bags are better for the back than others. If Oprah says so, it must be true. Thankfully I don't have to carry the children around anymore, as much as they would like me to do so. Still it's aggravating to have to shut down horseplaying and overenthusiastic hugging with, "Not now, sweetie, Mommy's back hurts."

Stupid back.

I was so sidelined by this that I almost didn't get to send out the letter I wrote to kiddo's new teacher, explaining who he is, what he has and what techniques work with him. I got it in the mail today. (No, school hasn't started yet here. Yes, we do start late. I agree, it is strange.) I'm hoping the letter does something -- anything? -- but we won't know until after school starts, I guess.

I also sincerely hope kiddo wasn't meant to have finished that entire summer typing program before September, because that is not happening. Mainly because he thinks practice-typing the same two letters over and over is torture. (I can see his point.) Speaking as someone who types for a living, and has worked with lots of other people who type for a living, I'm pretty sure hunt-and-peck is the preferred method anyway.

He has been typing, though. So, credit for that.

I got all his school supplies before my back gave out, so we're set there. We just need to pick out a first-day outfit, and show him his room, and hope he doesn't get overstimulated or oppositional or otherwise act out. A normal first day of school for us, in other words.

In the meantime, my old-fart back and I will continue the healing process.

I thought about being offended

when I saw this movie review which says, "If the original felt like it was designed for adolescents, however, this follow-up feels like it was made by an adolescent, one with a whopping case of ADHD." The good folks at The Wrap liked that line so much, in fact, they used it again under the headline. I thought about being mightily offended, because ADHD is a neurological condition and not a lazy slang term meaning "poorly organized filmmaking."

It's also a fairly ill-informed thing to write, in that folks with ADHD tend to be extra-creative and frequently end up working in the arts (see my previous post on that); someone with ADHD isn't necessarily going to be a bad storyteller. They're more likely to be a wonderful storyteller who forgot to pay their electric bill five months in a row. Or a genius filmmaker whose clothes never match because he can't find the clean laundry.

This is additionally a pretty obnoxious thing for someone with ADHD to read, since the condition they've struggled with for a good chunk of their life is now being played for laughs in the service of trashing a summer movie sequel. Frankly trashing a summer movie sequel shouldn't even require so much work. If the movie were any good, it wouldn't be released in August. All you really need to write is "It's August and this is a sequel. Half a star. Moving on."

(Bear in mind, I liked the first "Kick-Ass." I thought it did a pretty good job being meta right up until the end when it didn't, and I love Chloe Grace Moretz because she is the coolest and I'll even go see her in the "Carrie" remake. But not even my liking for the first film can justify the existence of the second film.)

I'm not loving the fact that my son, who can read, and who's been known to read what I'm reading right over my shoulder, could stumble upon such a sentence right up there in a movie review. What's he supposed to think, the first time he sees something like that? Or the second or the third?

So I debated being offended. I considered going into full all-out self-righteous mode and trashing the writer eight ways from Sunday. And then I considered some more.

I'm not a huge fan of some people's tendency to get hysterically offended over every little thing. I don't necessarily want to be one of those people. It's no fun to be around, for one thing. They tend to get a "cry wolf" response after a while; people stop listening to them. For another, there are definitely better things in this society/this world/this century/etc. to get worked up about than the use of a word.

It's clueless and obnoxious to use "ADHD" like it's some sort of goofy slang word. But it's also a pretty good indicator of someone who isn't worth listening to. For instance, I will never seek out this writer's movie reviews again. And I think that's what I'm going to tell my son, the first time he sees or hears something like this: Now you know not to bother listening to this person, because they are ignorant.

You can't change the ignorant people. But you can decide how to respond to them, or whether to respond to them at all. And that, in a way, is sort of freeing. 

Catching up on ADHD news

I was on vacation. Well actually, I was on vacation the previous week and spent this past week being exhausted, because long road trips apparently wreck you when you have arthritis, even if you take your lumbar pillow with you because you have become an old fart. I'm going to have to change the name of this blog to "Angry Old Mom With Arthritis."

We went to the circus at Lake George, and then left the kids with MIL (thanks, MIL) and went to Burlington, Vt., overnight. It's a lovely place and totally crunchy. Vegan everything. Sarongs for sale everywhere. Extensively used bike parking. A ton of breweries seemingly. (I'm guessing that's a necessary thing in the winter.) We also hit up the Ben and Jerry's factory tour, and I guess we should've felt guilty about doing that without the kids, but uh, no.

Anyhow. I'd still like to weigh in on the FDA approving the first brain wave test for ADHD a couple weeks ago. The test involves an EEG and sensors hooked up to a child's head, and measuring the brain waves, which appear differently in an ADHDer. The FDA says using the test helped doctors make a more accurate diagnosis. The commenters on the Times article, of course, are saying various variants on "The FDA is ripping people off and all psychiatrists are snake-oil salesmen and parents should let their kids be kids!" (paraphrasing, of course), rebutted by the adult ADHDers and parents of ADHDers who say, "Oh yeah? You deal with this for a while and see if you think it's made up." So, the usual back-and-forth then.

Then ABC had this story about experts' skepticism about the validity of the test and their belief that they can diagnose just fine on their own, thank you very much. Sorry -- two experts' skepticism. I guess all the others were busy. Anyway one of them said this about general practitioners using the test:

"They can charge for it and it gives you a pseudo-scientific basis for the diagnosis – a piece of paper with little wiggles and you can say they're not the wiggles you expect," she said, adding that she hopes parents "understand the limitations of the test" and "realize they don't have to rely on commercial promotions."

The company that makes the test, says this article, is a tiny start-up in Georgia and they've been working on the test for seven years. The (uninsured) cost to parents for the test would be $300, it would take about an hour and the company's president said they're looking to sell it to clinicians and hospitals. He also said the ABC News article hurt, and called it misinformed, adding:

"While there are some upfront costs, NEBA is worth it because of the increase in accuracy it brings the clinician and the overall costs associated with misdiagnosis."

Here's the thing. I don't especially expect the test to be perfect. I don't have any especial need to have my son tested. (Believe me, we already know what he's got.) But I'm glad the test is around. Because if there is such a test, and it works at all, then people can't keep snarking that ADHD is made up and blame kids' behavior on lousy parents, incompetent teachers and money-grubbing psychiatrists. A test takes the emotion and knee-jerk moralizing out of it. A test puts things on neutral ground.

The other piece of this is, and I've said this before, that general practitioners shouldn't be diagnosing. They don't have the experience, they're probably not up on the research and, at least in my experience, they're way too quick to throw a pill at a problem and move on with their lives. Medicating ADHD, which I'm generally in favor of as necessary, is a fairly delicate process -- finding the right drug at the right dosage, figuring out how to handle the side effects -- and that's a specialist's job. It's such a fraught topic, and causes parents so much angst, that it shouldn't be the automatic solution. It should be the last resort after other methods -- OT, behavioral therapy, classroom accommodations -- have been tried. Yes, that takes time. So does doing anything right.

And frankly ADHD is on occasion misdiagnosed, per my various readings. Sometimes the child actually has bipolar disorder. Sometimes it's purely sensory processing issues and not hyperactivity/inattention at all. Some of the things my kiddo does, a child with Asperger's would also do, or a child with SPD. So getting to the right conclusion is crucial. The wrong diagnosis means the wrong treatment, means, most likely, the wrong medication and then a worsening of the situation. Anything that could prevent such an outcome is welcome, as far as I'm concerned.

Though I will note that $300 is a lot of money and it would be nice if that cost could be offset somehow to ease the burden on families. Offset by insurance, say.

In other news, that Charlotte Observer series appears to have reached its conclusion. And it's a lovely conclusion. The writer (actually guest blogger on the paper's website), in part, said this:

"I realized that my son John, my forever challenging son, had immeasurable gifts, maybe some as a result of his unique brain. As I reflected on his perpetual insights about people and behaviors, I knew that if I could just safely guide John to adulthood, he would do great things."

Well, yes! I think kiddo will too. He's smart, he loves telling stories, he's totally charming (he has dimples. Seriously), he builds fascinating things with Legos, he's sensitive to other people's emotions, he's wonderful around babies. He plays very nicely with his little sister, even though their "playing" sometimes consists of bonking themselves into the (closed) basement door, falling to the floor and yelling "Ow!" then giggling and doing it again. Yes, really. I figure they're not strong enough to give themselves concussions. (This is still an improvement over their previous game, in which they said to each other, "Let me smell your foot. Eww!" "Let me smell your foot. Eww!" Honestly. They are like the world's littlest fraternity, minus the beer.)

And they appear to be awake, since kiddo has unlocked the gate and I can hear them chattering downstairs, so that would be my cue to go give them breakfast.

Read more here: http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2013/07/30/4200702/life-as-a-mom-of-a-child-with.html#storylink=cpy

  

The Happy Mama Conference, and why it was cool

First off, I'd like to note that every single airport on the planet is nicer than Newark. It's dingy. It's unpleasant. It's impossible to find an outlet even if you go up to the people at the gate and nicely ask where one is, because they don't know either, and you're bothering them. Also, my flight was delayed both ways. Foo on you, Newark. The nice thing about being an aspiring writer, at least, is that when your flight gets delayed by several hours because of rain, you can just crack open the laptop and get some extra writing time in. Once you find a working outlet, that is.

(Raleigh-Durham airport? So much nicer. Sparkling clean and friendly and I had a fried oyster sandwich at one of the restaurants. And tons of outlets.)

Things obviously improved when I got to the conference. About 64 women attended, which (says Happy Mama's Facebook page) is a jump of 20 or so from last year, which is pretty good, considering this is only the second year of the conference. This is how every single conversation went:

"So where are you from?" (All over. I met a mom from Texas, two from Toronto, one from Philly, one from Boston, several North Carolinians and one from the South by way of England, and I do love listening to English accents. One other mom from Jersey. Absolutely no one made Jersey jokes.)

And then immediately after: "And what are you dealing with?" Meaning, ADHD, ASD, OCD, ODD, PDD-NOS, Fragile-X Syndrome, what? And then we would talk openly about our kids, and their diagnoses, therapies, medications. What was working. What wasn't. This is the conversation you can only really have with other parents who are going through the same thing, or close to the same thing, you are, and I had it over and over again all weekend. The ability to speak freely, without judgment: Totally worth the price of admission alone.

Also, all the moms were cool. Funny, and smart, and unafraid to fight for their child.

Some random things I picked up at the workshops:

From Vikki Spencer, aka The Mom Whisperer:

-- Don't parent out of frustration.

-- If you feel triggered to anger, stop and focus on your breath (ironically this is what I've been trying to teach kiddo)

-- She told us about a useful Sesame Street video in which Elmo learns how to "belly breathe" in order to calm himself down. I still have to show it to kiddo -- listen, if I'm blogging about the conference a week after the fact it's because I haven't exactly had tons of time and energy this week -- but if you're interested, here's the video. It's kind of adorable and I don't even like Elmo. (I do, however, like Common. So that's cool.)

-- Another way to teach deep breathing to your child is to have them lie down and put a stuffed animal on their belly -- they have to breathe to raise the toy up and down.

From Margit Crane, family coach and co-author/blogger at Good-Enough Parenting:

-- Setting the bar high for kids isn't effective, and intrinsic motivation (do this because you're supposed to) isn't necessarily better than extrinsic motivation (do this and you can receive XX reward). (The point she made, and I agree, is that getting paid to do your job is an extrinsic motivation, so what's wrong with using a similar motivator on your kids?)

-- She says there are three kinds of motivation: baby bird (shove it out of the nest and it flies), car (needs gas, but has basic needs met) and hothouse flower (needs special care and attention). You'll naturally do the "bird" things, need a little help on the "car" things and a whole lot of help on "flower" things, and that's OK.

-- She also suggests finding someone to be your "executive assistant" in order to get things done, while also being one for your child. (If your child happens to have ADHD, you have to do that anyway, as his executive function skills will be lacking. I've discovered.)

We had a few breakout discussion groups; in the first one I attended on social skills, a mom suggested this method of stopping your kid's interruptions: have him touch your arm to signal he has something to say, then touch his arm back to show you heard him and to ask him to wait another minute. I haven't tried it yet but I will. Another mom suggested the "social thinking" writings of Michelle Garcia Winner; I haven't explored them in detail yet, but her website is here.

I need to pause here and say that the slides the organizers had up on a loop at the front of the room were so. Funny. Here's my favorite. Because it has Ryan Gosling. The entire room paused to study this one. And then one of the moms announced: "He's hot." And everyone laughed.

(I fully understand if Ryan hates being an Interwebs meme, but it really is funny. And he really is hot. Just go with it, Ryan.)

Robert Tudisco of the Edge Foundation, which offers coaching for high school and college kids with ADHD, had some things to say on parent advocacy:

-- Every movement in the disability community -- CHADD, Autism Speaks -- was started by moms 

-- You must educate your child's school about the disability and show them how it affects your child

-- Communicate diplomatically and in writing, and don't be a slave to your emotion

-- Think like an attorney so you don't have to hire one

-- Consider: Who do you have to win over to get what you want? What services can you get for your child that don't cost anything?

-- Meet with your child's teacher separately before the year starts, introduce her to your child. One of the moms offered that she gives the teacher a packet every year explaining her son's strengths and needs, along with a flattering photo (and chocolate, although I'm not sure how I feel about that part. I like the idea otherwise, though, and am going to do it this year).

Margit returned to discuss surviving family gatherings, which was hilarious and I won't do justice to it here. And that was all the first day. Plus a yoga class and a spa session. Incidentally? Try not to schedule your spa session too close to the end of the yoga class. Or you will be running frantically through the hotel to change out of your workout pants and back into your skirt (because you hate shorts and refuse to wear them) so that you can catch the hotel shuttle over to the spa in time for your eye treatment. This probably negates the nice relaxing feelings you acquired from the yoga class.

Day 2, the big workshop was about "funding your self-care," the point of which being, you deserve to spend money on yourself every once in a while, and here are some simple tips to put money aside for that purpose. Vikki said she has her own change jar, which I thought was a fabulous idea, so now I do too. Perhaps that will keep me from spending it on the vending machine at work. (Really, it's been a long week.) She also noted we should "leverage" gift-giving holidays for stuff we actually want, instead of going "oh, no, you don't have to buy me anything." To that end, I'd like a new laptop bag for Christmas/Hanukkah, because the current one is beat up and the zippers stick (and frankly it's not that stylish). I only note this because I know certain family members are reading this blog.

The other breakout session I attended had to do with building a community of support, which is excellent timing, actually, because my friend L., whose son also has ADHD, reached out to a bunch of other area moms on the ADDitude boards and we're planning a get-together next month. At the breakout session, one suggestion I liked was, set a time and place to meet every month, so it takes some of the stress out of planning something.  Another mom suggested starting a special needs PTA, which actually PTA.org has tips on here. A different mom was wondering out loud how to accommodate everyone in her group, since they're all several hours apart from each other. Now that's dedication.

"Dedication" was pretty much the overriding theme really. Everyone was there because they love their kids, and are trying to do right by them despite circumstances and lack of resources and prejudices and ignorance from others. If there was a bit of an "us against the world" mentality, well ... it can seem that way sometimes. But mainly, I think, everyone was just happy to be in each other's presence. To be around other women who get it, instantly.

Also, I had a fine time hanging out with cousin H. and her friend, who is cool.

... and the hotel gave us free drinks.

Ultimately, though, I came away feeling lucky. I only have one special-needs kid to contend with; some of the others had multiples (one mom I met has four kids with ADHD. I can't even imagine. I said to her, "And you still have a brain left!" She said, "You don't know me very well!"). DH and I have been pretty much in sync on what's going on with kiddo, and how to handle it, and what treatments to try; other moms clearly had spouses who disagreed with them, or weren't involved. Our family is across-the-board supportive, even including the medication issue; other moms talked about being judged by relatives. True story from the mom's view of ADHD Facebook page: The parents went away for a few days and left the kids with relatives. The relatives, not believing ADHD exists, refused to give the son his medication the entire time they had him. His behavior, naturally, worsened. When the parents came back, the relatives had the utter chutzpah to lecture the mom about her son's behavior. Completely ignoring the fact that they CAUSED the behavior by denying him meds, which incidentally is a pretty dangerous thing to do; you can wean someone off meds like that but you should not ever just stop cold. Which is something said relatives might have paid attention to if they believed that ADHD is an actual neurological condition. Or, you know, if they weren't idiots.

So yeah, we haven't had to deal with any of that and I am quite grateful.

It was a good weekend. I came home energized and loaded down with reading material (what? all the speakers were selling books), and if I come across anything in my reading that seem helpful, I'll note that here too. DH and kids had a fine weekend of library visits, pool visits and ice cream trips. How fine were the kids when I walked in? Kiddo was in bed (flight delay. Again. I hate you, Newark), and kiddette was playing with her kiddie tablet. She didn't actually look up. 

Which means I won't feel at all guilty about going again next year. Looking forward to it.

Fireworks, and some recommended reading

We're having a bit of a late start this morning, on account of the fireworks show last night, which was also part of a town carnival. The kids went on the kiddie coaster and the merry-go-round and the bounce house (where we witnessed a helicopter parent supreme practically screaming in agony anytime another child bounced too close to her child; DH made some snarky Harold the Helicopter comments, which went over my head because we've been out of the Thomas loop for some time now. Thankfully).

Then we sat on a blanket and watched the fireworks, at which the kids were alternately thrilled and terrified, which seems about right. They were both hiding under their jackets at various points. Then all the fireworks fragments fell down on our general area, proving that we need to find a better viewing spot next year. Ah well.

Today, kiddo has been an emotional wreck because he's off his sleep and meds schedule, which I kinda figured would happen, but we have no especial plans so it's sort of OK. He threw a grand mal screechy screamy fit about being asked to brush his teeth before his sister, and then I counted him down to time out, and then he threw another fit or three, and finally he sort of calmed down enough to do the time out, and then we brushed teeth (and took meds, and yes, of course this was a factor). Apologies to my neighbors for the screeching, and just let me know if you call DYFS, OK? I'd like to straighten up the house first.

This all proves -- as if we didn't know -- that any deviation from his normal sleep/wake/meds schedule will cause issues. It's like he has absolutely no coping skills for anything, and everything upsets him. Duly noted for the next school year.

He's fine now, though, currently immersed in Legos. Kiddette is trying to diagnose me with a bad case of imaginary hiccups, and insisting I need to take medicine for it.

Me: "Sweetie, you don't take medicine for hiccups."

Kiddette: "Yes, you do!"

Truly, she is strong in her own (wrong) convictions. She'll have a fine career as a pundit. But probably not a doctor.

Meantime, I've been reading this series from the Charlotte Observer, in which a mom of a boy with ADHD recounts her experiences trying to parent him. (Note: I linked to the latest installment, which has links to all the previous installments.) It's pretty well written, and I recognize a lot of what she's describing. Frankly, we're lucky kiddo's medication works with no side effects, because that's just not the case with a lot of kids, and then it's an endless revolving loop of new meds and dropping meds, which is what this mom has been going through. Just imagine the stress.

I think it's pretty brave of her to share her story so openly, especially considering what most of the comments on the articles are like. A representative sample:

"My fourth grade teacher had the perfect cure for ADHD many years ago. You got caught looking out of the window and you got a ruler across your knuckiles."

My favorite part of that? The dude's inability to spell "knuckles." Guess your teacher should've rapped you harder, huh?

(Side note: Why is it trolls never know how to spell? Do they take illiteracy as some sort of badge of honor? Do they secretly give out prizes to each other for Most Humiliating Typo of the Year? Because I'd like to nominate this one.)

But that's the general tone. For every commenter who says "thank you for writing this, I'm going through the same thing," there's a few others who write "ADHD is made up and you're a lousy parent and you should try beating your kid a few times." Typical, I guess.

Anyway, please read the series. It's nice to see some mainstream media attention that isn't all about how kids are ODing on ADHD drugs.

Incidentally, the Happy Mama Conference and Retreat is this weekend. Looking forward to it, in between angst about not missing the flight and wondering what to wear, because I am that shallow. Any useful info I gather, I will of course share on thishere blog. Also, since it's in The South, I'm looking forward to some sweet tea. And maybe grits.

Summertime and the living is ...

... not easy exactly, but easier, in that we don't have that panicked rush out the door in the morning so that kiddo doesn't miss the bus. Not once all year did we miss the bus, incidentally, and for that I want a medal, or a gold star, or perhaps some sort of grown-up Girl Scout badge.

Kiddo of course is loving the fact that he doesn't have classwork or homework and gets to stay at day care all day and run around on the playground. Because he has no idea how many workbooks I'm going to be making him do, not to mention the school-mandated typing program (which was not working this morning, dear school, can you get on that?) or all the books we'll be reading, not least because I signed both kids up for the library's summer reading program. This made me nostalgic, because I always did those programs when I was growing up, and (nerd alert) loved them. Because I would've been reading all summer anyway. These days you don't even have to fill out the book titles; now you just fill in a little circle for every 10 minutes you spent reading. Technically I suppose you could count reading the goofy stuff on cereal boxes. Fortunately I am an honest sort, and already know (thanks to a similar exercise during kindergarten) that the average picture book takes five minutes to read out loud, so I told kiddo we'll fill in a circle for every two books he reads. This gives us a reason to go to the library once a week, which kiddo loves because he can play games on the computers in the children's area. Not exactly the point of the library, but it's typing practice, right?

He's staying on medication this summer. One of the big points of contention in ADHD circles is whether to give your child a "drug holiday" during summer and winter vacations, and sometimes also on weekends. The Child Mind Institute in New York has a pretty good summation of the issue here. Sometimes the side effects of a particular drug are tough on a kid; sometimes the kid doesn't grow or gain weight the way he should. Sometimes (I think) parents feel so horrible about medicating their child just so he'll survive school that they look for an excuse to quit, even temporarily.

It was never in question that kiddo would stay on medication. For one thing, we haven't noticed any side effects. For another, he's more even-tempered and able to listen and follow instructions -- just as relevant at day care, karate class and at home as it is at school. Social development is all the time, not just during the school year, and socially and behaviorally are where he needs the most help. Academically, not so much.

Look, if you're on medication for a specific issue, that issue likely isn't situational. A favorite example in the pieces I've read is diabetes medication; if you need it, you need it every day. Kiddo doesn't stop having his alphabet soup of ADHD/ODD/OCD just because it's summer. He's been frankly a bit of a nutbar this past week or so anyway, in the transition from day care plus school to just day care -- running around, getting the other kids wound up -- and I can't even imagine how much worse that would have been unmedicated.

In retrospect, I can see signs of issues in him going back to age 2 at least. Easily frustrated, temperamental, constantly running, strangely agitated by things that shouldn't be upsetting (for instance, the Defcon 1 meltdown he had at a breakfast event once, because the bagel was pre-sliced; he called it "broken," dissolved into tears, wouldn't touch it). No concept of personal space, to the point where kids were biting him at day care because he got in their face and they didn't have the words to tell him they didn't like it. Total inability to listen, to the point where you could look him right in the face, tell him to do something and honestly, truly, he didn't hear you.

He's much improved over this past year or so, but you want to build on successes, not ignore them. And therefore he stays on medication. ADHD isn't just a school thing. It's a life thing.

Anyhow. I am unlikely to post again before the holiday, what with work and cleaning and cooking and possibly filling in the new garden bed I dug this morning (and not a moment too soon, since I have veggies overgrowing their pot), so I'll just say now Happy Fourth, and may your burgers be perfectly grilled, and if you -- unlike me -- live in a state where fireworks are legal, may you please be careful with those things.