ADHD Parenting Blog

Archives: July 2008

Summer School Lessons for Parent and Child

Make sure everyone knows that, when it comes to the education of your ADHD child: You’re watching, you expect excellence, and you’ll complain if you don’t get it.

It’s day eight of summer school—four days to go. We stuck it out, and it’s gotten better. But, I came really close to pulling Natalie out.

I consulted the director of special education a second time, to ask about the goals of the program. Is there an academic component, or is the goal to provide structure? She referred me to a new school administrator, in charge of the at-risk program. We talked, and I came away from the conversation believing that the program will be much different, and much stronger, next year.

Don and I talked, and we decided to have Natalie finish the session.

The next day, I got a phone call from Gayle, Nat’s in-home therapist. Based on how Natalie described interactions with her teacher, she recommended pulling her out. The teacher’s style was counterproductive to Nat’s emotional needs.

Another long talk with Don. We didn’t pull her out. And I think it was the right decision.

I learned two things from this summer school experience.

The first is to make sure everyone knows that, when it comes to the welfare of your ADHD child: You’re watching. You expect excellence. And you’ll complain if you don’t get it.

And second, expect a tough adjustment period with any new experience. Don’t pull your child out, or let her quit something too soon. Given time, your child might do better.

And if so, you’ve both learned something.

Is Summer School Right for My ADHD Child?

I’m leaning toward pulling Natalie out of summer school. Even if Nat’s special education needs will be met, I’m not sure there’s a good fit.

Here I am at Stomping Grounds again, and I feel the tears coming--AGAIN. Not out of anger, this time, but from worry. This summer school shit--I don’t know if it’s worth it.

The IEP business is resolved, and I expressed my gratitude by phone--without a single tear--to the director of special ed this morning. Now, I’m left with figuring out if the goals of the summer school program are a match for ADHD daughter's needs. And, if the teacher herself is a good fit for Natalie.

So far, Natalie, who will be in 2nd grade this fall, colored pictures, watched a movie about birds, and rode a city bus to the mall and back. The teacher is probably using these activities to teach language arts, as the summer school program promises. However, Natalie’s answers to my many questions didn’t confirm that.

Since the summer school program is primarily for at-risk kids, it may be that the main goal is to provide a structured setting, rather than to teach academic skills. And, there are kids in the program for whom English is their second language. Maybe the mall trip was used for vocabulary building. Neither of those are important goals for Natalie. I prefer the structure she receives at daycare, and her academic needs are for review and practice with reading and writing.

Today I left a message with the person in charge of the summer school program, asking her to clarify the program’s goals. I want to hear what she has to say, but, at this point, I’m leaning toward pulling Natalie out after today or tomorrow. Even if Nat’s academic needs will be met, I’m not sure there’s a good fit between Natalie and her teacher.

I’m trying to separate out my own feelings, and to take into account that we got off to a rough start. I also respect the fact that this teacher has years of experience, including teaching special ed and at-risk kids. She has a long track record with the district. But, Natalie is expressing quite clearly that she is unhappy.

Both of my kids have had incredible teachers in the Ames school district. Not just acceptable, but really, really good. The teacher that Aaron has this past school year was not a good fit for his personality. I’m confident that she was a good teacher, but Aaron had a really rough year—the only rough year he’s had so far in school. I told Aaron to suck it up and deal with it. Learn to get along. Do your part to make it better—ask questions, clarify things you don’t understand. Do your very best. This will happen off and on throughout life. Just remember, next year will be different.

I’d do the same with Nat if I thought it was worth it—academically and emotionally. Is it, or isn’t it? That’s what I have to decide.

TGFR: Thank Goodness for Ritalin

Thank Goodness For Ritalin. There is a distinct difference between Natalie ON medication and Natalie OFF medication.

TGIF? Not this time!

Friday afternoon, I picked Natalie up from daycare around 4:30. Whew! She was wild! Grabbing everything within her field of vision; not hearing a single redirect.

Her friend Japanna stopped over to play right about the time we got home, and within minutes, he was gawking at Nat and me, as I half-drug her flailing body to her room for a time out. “If you calm down and handle your room time, Japanna can stay. If not, I’ll send Japanna home!” I was embarrassed for Nat. Who’d want to play with a kid who acts like that?

Was this just a really bad transition time, I wondered? The time between daycare and supper is often tough. Or, was Nat super hungry? Or… did she miss her 4:00 pm dose of Ritalin? Natalie couldn’t remember.

Phone call to daycare. Would they please check the med chart and see if it was documented that Nat received her 4:00 meds? They can’t find the Room 6 med chart, and the Room 6 teachers are both gone for the day. They’ll call Allie, the lead teacher, at home, and find out where the chart is and then call me back.

Allie calls back herself, all apologies, but no answers. “I’ve seen Natalie with medication, and without medication, and there’s a distinct difference,” Allie commiserates. (See why we love and trust Allie?) Tell me about it, I think. I’m living it! But I couldn’t bring myself to give Natalie Ritalin until I found out for sure that she’d missed it. What if she’d already had it?

It’s 6:30 when Allie calls again to verify that yes; the teacher on duty forgot to give Nat her Ritalin. She’s very sorry. So am I! I just endured two LONG hours on high alert. Two hours of Japanna wondering why Natalie seems so different today. Two hours of Japanna hearing me say things like, “You have to really think, Nat. You have to work your hardest to slow down and make good choices.”

“Nat will be herself again in 20 minutes or so, Japanna,” I say, as Nat swallows her meds. “She can’t really help it that she’s been getting in trouble tonight. Thanks for putting up with us; for being a good friend,” I say. (Matter of fact. Up front. It’s not a secret; it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I hope this is the best approach!) Sure enough, Nat calms down and the rest of her evening is great.

I’m not upset with daycare. It’s easy to make mistakes. I forget to give Nat her meds now and then, too, until her behavior reminds me. “What the heck is going on? Oh, it’s past med time!”

I don’t know what Japanna thought about the whole experience — my constant verbal prompts, my frantic phone calls, Nat’s wildness. Maybe it all went right over his head. Maybe it didn’t effect how he sees Nat. I hope that’s the case.

TGIF? Not for me! For me, Friday night was a long ending to a long week. I was thinking TGFR, instead. Thank God for Ritalin!

First Day of Summer School

I have the honor of being known forever as that psycho-mom who runs bawling to school admin every time someone looks sideways at her ADHD kid.

Stomping Grounds has gone from being my place to drink coffee and write my blog to my place to cry and write rants. If I keep this up, they’ll be calling for a psych consult, to see what drugs they should slip into my coffee. Or they’ll kick me out. “We’re sorry, but we must ask you to leave. This is a happy place. You’re ruining our good karma.”

I cry when I’m mad, and once again, I’m pissed as hell.

Summer school started this morning. As I mentioned in earlier posts, I’ve been trying to set the stage for Nat to have a good experience.

At Natalie’s last IEP meeting, I advocated that the summer school teacher be made aware that Nat has an IEP, and that she should read it. Last year, the teacher had no information.

"Give her a copy yourself," I was told.

I wrote about readjusting our schedules to get up early, in light of Nat’s recent sleep disturbance.

Our preparation also included a lot of talk:

Natalie: “I don’t want to go! I’m scared!”

Me: “You’ll be fine! You had fun last year, remember?”

Natalie: “I want Mrs. Bakshi! Mrs. Bakshi was nice!”

Me: “You’ll like Mrs. Braun. You’ll recognize her when you see her. Her room was right across the hall from Mrs. Junck’s. Bekah says Mrs. Braun is REALLY nice.”

Nice my ass.

I walk Natalie into a strange school this morning. A poster inside the front door tells us that Mrs. Braun’s class will be in room 9. Down the hall we go. Along the way, teachers are greeting kids, welcoming them into classrooms. We get to room 9. Door closed. Dark.

“What room are you looking for?” a teacher asks.

“The poster said room 9, but it’s dark.”

“That’s the right room. Mrs. Braun isn’t here yet.”

We go in, turn on the lights.

“Oh, here she is!” I say. Mrs. Braun walks in. After a moment, I approach Mrs. Braun. “This is my copy of Natalie’s IEP. I was wondering if you’d be willing to read it?”

“This isn’t special ed! She can’t be here!”

“She was here last year,” I say. “We talked about her coming at her IEP meeting in the spring. Her special ed teacher referred her.”

“This isn’t special ed,” she repeats. “You can leave her today, but she might not be able to come back.”

Natalie’s holding my hand, listening to this. “This is adult stuff. I’ll take care of it. I don’t want you to worry about it.”

“I’m scared!” Natalie repeats.

Thirty minutes later, I’m in the office of the district’s director of special ed. Not only did the school decline my request to provide Natalie’s IEP to her summer school teacher (“Give it to her yourself”). Nat, who was already scared about starting summer school, was greeted by a dark room, then: “This isn’t special ed! She can’t be here!”

“The summer school program isn’t funded by special ed dollars. The fact that some special ed students are allowed to attend is a gift.”

“It’s not a gift if they have a bad experience,” I say. Don’t I sound all smart and in control!? I blubbered every word and used up half a box of Kleenex.)

She consults with Natalie’s principal. They’ll sort things out, so that Nat will have a good experience. Message on my voicemail later: All is well. The teacher will be happy to read the IEP and make the outlined accommodations. Nat had a fabulous first day.

Hmmph. Fabulous. I have a f@#% fabulous headache. And I have the honor of being known forever more as that psycho-mom who runs bawling to admin every time someone looks sideways at her kid.

Get used to it, everyone. I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

Praise for an ADHD Babysitter's Guide

ADDitude's Babysitter's Guide is a helpful tool for all caregivers of ADHD children.

The copy of ADDitude’s babysitter’s guide, ADDventures in Babysitting, which I ordered last week, was waiting in our mailbox when we arrived home from vacation on Tuesday. Fast service!

I read it through — and I LOVE it! It does what ADDitude does best — summarizes information in a precise, easy-to-read, easy-to-apply format. I learned a lot that I didn’t know about attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), and, in addition to sharing it with new babysitters, I plan to share it with a variety of others — teachers, service providers, family, parents of Natalie’s friends.

It provides a great outline for me to use in creating my own orientation materials for new babysitters for my ADHD child. I’m picturing personalizing each section by describing Natalie’s symptoms and behaviors.

It also gave me ideas for questions to ask when I interview potential new caregivers. It warns parents not to leave ADHD kids with babysitters — or relatives — who don’t “believe in” ADHD. Since that turned out to be an issue with the Exorcist I’ll certainly come up with a few interview questions about ADHD and the use of ADHD medication to try and uncover any preconceived notions that potential caregivers might have about the disorder.

Whew! What a relief! What a great resource. I highly recommend it.

ADHD Sleepy-Time Secrets

Like many kids with ADHD, Natalie sometimes has problems getting to sleep, and right now, her sleep schedule is as messed up as I’ve ever seen it.

Natalie starts summer school Monday morning, and she and I are both in for a rude awakening. Literally. The reminder postcard that came in the mail admonished: “Class begins promptly at 8:15 am”. It will be harder than heck for both of us to get up early enough in the morning to get ready and arrive at school on time.

Me; I’m just plain lazy. But, like many kids with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder(ADHD), Natalie sometimes has problems getting to sleep, and right now, her sleep schedule is as messed up as I’ve ever seen it. She’s in a cycle of not being able to get to sleep at night, then sleeping late the next morning to make up for it — a vicious cycle.

During her last Ritalin recheck I talked to our pediatrician about Nat’s sleep problems. Natalie’s Ritalin schedule is atypical. She takes a dose at 7:00 pm. Although taking a stimulant in the evening would keep some kids awake, without it to calm her down, Natalie is too wound up at bedtime to try to get to sleep. The evening dose helps both her evening behavior and her ability to sleep — most of the time.

However, anywhere from 1-3 times per month to 3-4 times per week, she has trouble falling asleep. Dr. Halbur suggested that as long as we only use it occasionally, we could try giving her Benadryl when she can’t get to sleep.

Luckily, the Benadryl seems to help Natalie. It doesn’t have the opposite effect — making her hyper — that it can have in some kids with ADHD. Now, when Natalie isn’t asleep by 11:00 or 11:30 pm, I’ll offer her some “sleepy time medicine.” After she takes it, we stay up for an extra snack, or read a book or two, then give getting to sleep another try.

Last night, even the Benadryl didn’t work. I gave Natalie one tablet around 11:30 pm, and Don told me this morning that she was still awake at 2:00 am. She woke up 9:30 this morning.

I’m going to be the meanest mom in the world this weekend — making Nat go to bed early, then waking her up early in the morning. She’ll be crabby as heck without enough sleep, but we have to break this cycle. Summer school is only three days away!

A Vacation for ME!

It’s important for me to take a vacation from my ADHD child and spend some time reconnecting with the adults in my life.

Let me share a sentiment I just read in the bathroom (too much information!) at Arnold’s Perk, a funky coffee shop in Arnolds Park, Lake Okoboji, Iowa: “If you’re rich you live in Beverly Hills. If you’re famous you live in Malibu. If you’re lucky, you live at Lake Okoboji.”

I feel lucky just to be here on vacation!

To me, Okoboji is synonymous with friendship. This is the 14th straight summer that Don and I have vacationed with friends Mark and Debbie Flannery. The first joint vacation took place here, just the four of us. In subsequent years, the group and location has varied. Sometimes, mutual friends Steve and Joani Gent join us. Sometimes we bring the kids, sometimes it’s adults only.

We’ve traveled to Colorado, Door County, Wisconsin, and each other’s homes. This year is an adults-only year, with both Gents and Flannerys, and we’re back at Lake Okoboji. The guys are golfing, and the women are relaxing at Arnold’s Perk, starting our morning with way too much coffee.

The six of us had a deep conversation late last night — in part alcohol-assisted and in part an inevitable occurrence that happens when Joani Gent and Mark Flannery are in the same place at the same time. I talked about our experience with the Exorcist, and about life with Natalie in general. One of Gent’s children has special needs, too, and we talked about how plans for her future are unfolding. We even talked about how each of our marriages is doing, and about how we deal with conflict within our marriages. The two main themes I came away with are these:

It’s important to spend time with and reconnect with your spouse. And it’s important to spend time with and reconnect with your friends.

The next time I feel guilty about taking time away Natalie and the endless demands of her ADHD, or from both kids, to spend time with Don or with friends, I hope to recall this picture in my mind: the six of us sitting on the deck of our rented condo, looking out over the peaceful dark lake. I’ll hear the voices of my friends reassuring me that taking a break is the right thing to do: for my kids, for myself, and for my marriage.

If I was rich, I’d live in Beverly Hills. If I was famous, I’d live in Malibu. I’m lucky. I vacation at Okoboji with good friends.

Talking to Strangers

I learned something from my impulsive, loving, ADHD child. Sometimes it pays to talk to strangers.

Sometimes, Natalie’s ADHD impulsivity and her loving personality are a winning combination.

Friday night, Natalie, Aaron, and I got a jump start on a mini vacation. Don and I were scheduled to arrive at Iowa’s Lake Okoboji at 4:00 pm on Saturday to meet treasured friends, Steve and Joani Gent, and Mark and Debbie Flannery, for an annual reunion/vacation. The kids would stay with Aunt Ann and Uncle Fred while we were gone. They were excited about going to “Camp Aunt Ann”. When Don finally faced the fact that he couldn’t get away from work until late Friday night, I decided to take the kids as far as Aunt Ann’s house. Don would meet us the next morning, and he and I would leave for Okoboji from there.

Natalie has been going to “Camp Ann Aunt” monthly for respite weekends since January, and, although Aaron understands that the intention of these visits is to allow Don and me to spend quality time with him, Aaron feels left out. So, Aaron spent Friday night at Ann and Fred’s, and Natalie and I spent the night in a hotel. That way Aaron got his own special time with them, before Natalie descended on them and sucked up all their attention.

Natalie was wound up and happy Friday night--her sweet wild-child self, not her alter-ego demon-child self (I can joke about that—don’t you DARE try it.) As I unloaded our luggage at the hotel, Nat said, “Sorry, mom! I talked to a stranger! Sorry!” She’d greeted the couple two parking spots down. “That’s okay. Mom’s right here watching, so you’re safe.”

Our short stay at the hotel was marked by Nat continuously converting strangers into friends. She made friends with 10-year-old Dalton at the pool, then continued the friendship at the continental breakfast the next morning. He seemed flattered by Nat’s endless attention, and answered her constant questions sweetly, with a slightly puzzled smile on his face.

When we made an 11:00 pm foray to the parking lot to retrieve Hello Kitty blanky from the trunk of the car, Nat made pony-tailed, 18ish Joe feel like the most important person in the world: “Promise me this will the last cigarette you ever smoke! Smoking is bad for you!” Joe chatted with her, and extracted a sincere promise from her that she’d never start smoking.

And she begged to return to the front desk again and again to talk to Brianna, a community college nursing student who is working as many hours as she can this summer-student style. We learned that Brianna graduated from Clear Lake High School with my nephew, Marshall. She went to Iowa State University in Ames, where we live, and studied elementary education, in hopes of becoming a special ed teacher. Her grandfather is credited with bringing Special Olympics to Iowa, and her family has long involved with people with disabilities in their lives. Brianna changed her career plans from education to nursing, but hopes to live and work in Ames after finishing her degree. “Natalie receives some special services,” I whispered. “Call us if you move to Ames. We’re always on the look-out for good providers.” She seemed genuinely excited. “Wouldn’t it be fun to hang out sometime, Natalie?” she asked.

I learned something from my impulsive, loving child. We may or may not hear from Brianna, but I feel like I could trust my instincts again (and Natalie’s) about child care providers after meeting Brianna.

Natalie taught me that, sometimes, it pays to talk to strangers!

ADHD Damage Control

If Nat believes an adult is going to hurt her, and she can’t stop it from happening, she tries to take control in her own ADHD way.

Gayle, our in-home therapist, stopped over last night. Nat’s behavior toward her was really weird, and, at first, I couldn’t figure out what was happening.

Nat pestered Gayle. She nearly hit her with toys and faked Tae-Kwon-Do moves that she learned from Harry — almost making contact with her fists and feet. She only spoke to Gayle when her mouth was stuffed with food, and she could spray wet debris in Gayle’s face.

“Natalie, I don’t like the way you’re treating Gayle. What’s going on?” I asked.

“I don’t want Gayle to come back!” Natalie said.

“You’re stuck with me,” Gayle said.

Oh, now I get it, I thought. "Gayle, I want you to come back. Would you please keep coming back to see me?" I asked.

"Yes, I’ll keep coming back to see you." Gayle answered, with a wink.

Since I fired the Exorcist, Nat’s worried that her caretakers are going to leave her. And if she can’t prevent them from leaving, she’ll damn well take charge of how and when they leave.

Gayle is being tested, and I’m confident she’ll pass the test. I'm certainly being tested. Nat actually seemed relieved last night when I followed through with giving her a time out, then praised her afterwards for handling her room time well, and we went back to our evening still loving each other.

I believe Nat’s “demonic” laughter, the laughter that led the Exorcist to believe Nat was possessed, was the same type of response — a powerless child’s way of trying to regain control. If Nat believes an adult is going to hurt her, and she can’t stop it from happening, she can at least make it happen on her terms.

Gayle, of course, didn’t hurt her. She didn’t even correct her. She said, “I feel connected to you. I won’t hurt you.” Gayle told Nat that she’s proud of Nat for telling me what the Exorcist did.

The Exorcist may not have left marks, but clearly, she harmed Natalie. Last night proved that.

Last night, I handed over the Exorcist’s name, address and phone number to Gayle. It was the right thing to do.

The ADHD Juggling Act

Sometimes it feels like managing all of Natalie’s special services is a full time job.

Today, we started our morning at ChildServe, for Nat’s occupational therapy.

We arrived home just in time for an appointment with Nat’s case manager, who oversees the services Natalie receives through a children’s mental health waiver.

When she left, I called a therapist Nat saw in the past, to schedule a re-evaluation, to determine if Nat is eligible for another year on the children’s mental health waiver. I need to call Gayle to schedule times for the 3 or 4 different types of services her agency provides. I need to follow up with the school on all of the things that I asked for in Natalie’s IEP meeting, that didn’t show up on the completed IEP, before summer school starts in two weeks.

(By the way, at Natalie’s IEP meeting in the spring, I asked the school to be sure the summer school teacher knows that Natalie has an IEP, and to give her a copy of it. Last summer, the teacher wasn’t aware of it, and never saw it. I was told to just copy the accommodations page and give it to her myself. Does that sound a little lax to anyone else?!)

And, I need to develop written training materials for new care providers, to try and avoid exposing Natalie to another Exorcist. I’m afraid — and experience confirms this fear — that Natalie is at risk when she’s around adults who don’t understand her ADHD behavior!

Can anyone out there help me with this? A long time ago I ordered the babysitters' guide from the ADDitude website, but when someone called to get my credit card info, I wasn’t home, and returning that one little phone call fell into the category of one too many things to do.

I should order it again. But I’d also like to know if other parents have come up with their own written materials, or found other existing resources that help you to train other adults to take care of your kids with ADHD. Maybe having a couple of samples in front of me would make this project seem less overwhelming, and give me a jumpstart to actually start researching and writing.

If you’ll share with me, then if/when I ever come up with something (no promises!) I’ll share with you.

Super Aunt to the ADHD Rescue

Mom used to claim that the things you worry about the most never happen. She was right more often than not. But she didn't have an ADHD child.

My mom used to say, “The things you worry about the most never happen.” She was right more often than not.

We spent the long 4th of July weekend with Don’s family in eastern Iowa. We kicked off the festivities Thursday evening with dinner at Tuscan Moon, a beautiful upscale restaurant in Kalona, Iowa, in celebration of Don’s parents’ 44th anniversary.

I worried about that dinner for weeks. We’d spend over two hours in the car getting to Kalona, then walk straight into a nice restaurant and Natalie would have to sit some more. It was a recipe for disaster for a child with ADHD.

I tried to plan ahead; to do everything I could to make this dinner a success.

Strategy # 1: Keep Natalie busy and happy throughout the car ride.

Strategy #2: Arrive 30 minutes early, so Natalie can run off energy before entering the restaurant.

Strategy # 3: Enter the restaurant clean and appropriately dressed.

Strategy #4: Keep Natalie busy, happy, seated, and quiet throughout dinner.

One by one, my plans failed.

Failure #1: Natalie hates long car rides. When we go to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, Aaron sits in the front seat with Don. I sit in the back with Natalie, and try to entertain her. For this trip, I bought a new book of word find puzzles, a coloring book with black pages and ultra-bright crayons, a travel size Lite-Brite, and a new Wiggles DVD in hopes of keeping Natalie busy. She tore through all of them and declared that she was bored before we even left town.

Failure #2: We’re ALWAYS late. Why should this be any different? Don called his mom when we were about 20 minutes away. She was already in the restaurant, seated.

Failure #3: Nat wore her play clothes in the car, and then changed in the car as we neared Kalona. She managed to stay fairly clean during the drive, in spite of eating McDonalds’ chicken nuggets and fries and an M & M McFlurry. Her secret for staying clean? She spilled her sweet and sour sauce all over me instead of herself! I, of course, brought nothing to change into.

Failure #4: We rushed into Tuscan Moon to find Don’s parents, his brother Gary, sister-in-law Sandy, and nieces Carlee and Haylee enjoying appetizers. I was exhausted, frustrated, and more than ready for a big glass of wine. Since Nat had depleted every activity I could think of during the car ride—I sat down empty handed. No coloring book, no word find puzzles — nothing. I even forgot Nat’s evening dose of Ritalin in the car.

Recipe for disaster? Hell, this was suicide! Until…

Aunt Sandy to the rescue!

From inside her purse Sandy produced a baggie full of colorful, polished rocks, then retrieved a pile of clean appetizer plates from the waiter’s hands. Nat’s cousins, Karlee and Haylee, had outgrown their rock collections, and were handing down their treasures to Nat. Nat stood beside the table (we were outside, at the rear of a patio area, so Nat could move around, and didn’t have to be especially quiet) and sorted her new rocks happily. She sorted by size. She sorted by color. She had everyone pick out their favorites. She served us all rocky cheesecake and rocky pie.

By the time we finished the main course, Natalie was tired of the rocks, and was starting to get antsy. Aunt Sandy to the rescue again! She had Carlee, age 14, lead the kids around the block for an ice cream cone, before meeting us back at the restaurant.

We relaxed, drank wine, ate a delicious meal — even enjoyed coffee and dessert, for TWO AND A HALF HOURS!!

Even though all of my strategies failed, the dinner was a huge success. Happy Anniversary, Marv and Helen!

Thank you, Aunt Sandy!

Daycare Daze

I hate having to choose between Nat's safety and her happiness.

Natalie is not happy. Since I fired The Exorcist, I’ve been taking Natalie to Formative Years when I’m at work.

Formative Years is a commercial daycare center near our home. Nat’s gone there off and on for several years — mostly after school and on some school holidays. It’s a really good place, as far as group care goes. Great staff. Lots of toys and activities. The lead teacher in Natalie’s room, Allie, is also one of our favorite babysitters / respite providers. Nat’s friend Harry goes there daily. What’s not to like?

“I hate waiting!” Natalie wails. “We always have to wait at Formative Years!” They wait in line to go outside. They wait in line to go the bathrooms. They wait in line to get in the vans for field trips. Nat’s right. That’s a lot of waiting for a kid with ADHD.

When I pictured Natalie’s summer, I envisioned lazy mornings. Sleeping in. Staying in pajamas for hours. Now we’re back to: “Eat your breakfast — we need to leave! Get dressed! Find your shoes!”

I wanted Natalie to have carefree afternoons - playing with friends, going to the park, swimming. Now, “swimming” means 14 kids sharing two small plastic wading pools.

I could try to find another babysitter, but I’m scared. Without other adults watching, how will I know Natalie is safe? It’ll be a long time before I trust my instincts again; take a chance on bringing a “stranger” into our home, and trusting her with my children.

I was nearly in tears today as I packed Nat’s backback. “I hate Formative Years! I’m not going!” Nat yelled. I hope I’m doing the right thing. I hope Nat is better off safe than happy.

Ritalin Roundup

Now remember, I don’t have ADHD. My child does. But I sure do act like it sometimes.

Now remember, I don’t have ADHD.

My child does. I don’t.

Really! But I sure do act like it sometimes.

The last time Natalie saw her pediatrician, Dr. Halbur, for a re-check, she told us that laws about controlled substances had changed, and that she could write out three prescriptions for Ritalin at a time, rather than only one. Wow! That’s a lot easier, right?

I took the prescriptions to Walgreen’s, and asked them to fill the first one, and keep the other two on file. Here’s what I remembered them saying: We can only keep one on file, you’ll have to keep the third one.

Okay, I thought. I’ll keep it in my car, in the compartment where I keep my supply of Advil! It’ll be safe there.

The next month, I called the pharmacy. Could they fill the prescription that they have on file? We don’t keep prescriptions for Ritalin on file, they said. Well, you did, I said. I was told you could keep one! We don’t have it, they said.

Sure enough, I found it in my car. I must have remembered wrong. I had the prescription, everything was okay.

The next day, I got a phone message from the pediatrician’s office, "Your prescription is ready to be picked up." Oh, no. The pharmacy must have called them! I don’t need another prescription. I just won’t pick it up.

Several weeks later, we’ve been on the road for 30 minutes when I realize we’ve left town for the day and I didn’t bring any Ritalin! What am I going to do? I look in my special hiding place... ta dah! I have a prescription with me! All is well.

We stop at Walgreen’s in Iowa City. They have Nat’s info on their computer, and it’s time to fill the prescription anyway. Unfortunately, they only have 14 tablets. Our prescription if for 180! If they do a partial fill, they cannot give us the rest later. We’ll need a new prescription. Okay, I have to have it — an hour ago!! Give me what you have.

Back in Ames. On Monday morning I go to the doctor’s office. The replacement prescription is still waiting for me to pick it up. But if I try to fill it, it’s going to look suspicious. I wait to talk to Dr. Halbur’s nurse, to explain the whole mess. She writes me a nice note to take to Walgreen's, telling them the prescription is valid, and to call their office if there is any problem. There’s not. Nat and I pick up the filled prescription the next morning after O.T. Just in time -- we’re down to two doses!

This morning Nat wakes up, I go to the kitchen to get her meds. The new bottle is not there. Is it still in the car? I rummage through all the trash in the car. I find an empty Walgreens bag. Yep, the receipt says Ritalin was in this bag.

The bag is empty.

Did someone steal it out of my car? Did it fall out of the bag while we were still in the store?

I think about calling Walgreen's to see if someone turned it in. Surely, they would of called me! If I call Dr. Halbur’s nurse, and try to explain this, she’ll never believe me. "I heard a new one today," she’ll tell the other nurses. "This mom claimed her kid’s Ritalin fell out of the bag before she ever left the drugstore! She filled a prescription yesterday, and she wants a new one today."

I look at the empty bag again. Oh my gosh, this is the bag from Iowa City! Not the new bag!

I finally find the new bag, with the new bottle, filled with 180 beautiful yellow tablets, on the counter in the bathroom. Now I remember. I’d rushed Natalie to the bathroom the minute we got home from the pharmacy. I put the stuff I was carrying down on the counter, and forgot about it.

Whew! Now I can calm down. I have nothing to worry about, except... which neighbors saw me frantically tearing my car apart this morning wearing nothing but a ratty t-shirt?

No matter — it was worth it!

Demon Child? Seriously?

Today’s post is the third in a series about adults who misunderstand and react horribly to our children's ADHD behavior. This is my rant!

Today’s post is the third in a series about adults who misunderstand our children's behavior. For example, a college-educated young adult who BELIEVES MY DAUGHTER IS POSSESSED BY DEMONS!

This post is my rant about the topic. Please bear with me, because I will be insensitive. I will be disrespectful of your religious beliefs... if you believe in demon possession. Someone messed with my loving, innocent kid, and I DON’T LIKE IT.

No-good-crazy-babysitter-from-HELL prayed over Natalie to rid her of a demon. Did she pray out loud? Did Nat hear this bulls#@t and internalize anything? What will that do to her developing self-image?

Plus, she spanked her, and pinched her. When we adopted this poor child, she was scared to move. She held her little hands in fists, like she was afraid to touch anything. She pursed her lips like she was afraid to talk. She had a serious, sad look on her face. She had bruises all over her skinny butt. We’ve spent 5 years gaining her trust, telling her that we’ll take care of her, keep her safe.

So, she was “calm” after you spanked her, prayed over her, and chased out the demon? She regressed, you xxxxxx xxxxxx. Thanks for this wonderful setback. I’ll think of you every time Natalie acts out.

Next time, save your prayers for your own Goddamn soul. You’re the one who needs it.

When the Punishment Is Too Harsh, Part II

More tales of poor ADHD child care: There’s nothing wrong with her that a little discipline won’t cure. Yeah right!

In yesterday’s post I described an incident where a substitute teacher showed a lack of skill, finesse — even plain common sense — when Natalie wasn’t attending to a task. She grabbed Natalie’s head and forced her to look at her work.

I can imagine the circumstances that led up to the incident: the sub is still asleep when her phone rings. She’s asked to sub in a first grade classroom, and she agrees.

An hour later she’s in a room full of kids — she doesn’t even know their names, let alone that 2 or 3 of the kids have IEPs. Maybe the kids are taking advantage of having a sub, and are not on their best behavior. Natalie isn’t paying attention. She’s talking to her friend Harry instead.

The sub gives her a verbal cue, which she doesn’t respond to. The sub thinks she’s being defiant, just being naughty. She doesn’t know that staying focused is hard for Natalie, and that her anxiety and the lack of calm in the room are making it harder than ever. The sub is frustrated. She gets Nat’s attention the old fashioned way — she MAKES her pay attention, through physical force. In her mind, she’s done nothing wrong.

Would it have made a difference if she knew Natalie had ADHD; if she’d read her IEP? Maybe, maybe not.

When I hired Nat’s summer babysitter, I spent some time telling her about Natalie’s background. I explained that she has ADHD, Sensory Processing Disorder, developmental delays, and some problems with anxiety. I gave her examples of some behaviors she might see, and talked with her about how to handle them.

We use time outs, but short ones, since it’s hard for Nat to sit still for any length of time. We use privileges — having friends over, playing with her latest favorite toy, being outside—as rewards and punishments. We don’t spank. We don’t use food as either a reward or a punishment. She should be allowed to eat whenever she wants to. If she gets “wild”, the first thing you should assume is that she’s hungry.

The first couple of weeks of summer went well. Natalie seemed happy enough when the babysitter showed up in the mornings. No complaints that she was “mean.” Until Thursday.

Natalie, Aaron, my sister Ann, and I were in the car, driving to Iowa City, where Nat had her annual appointment with a specialist at University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics.

She told us that the babysitter spanked her and pinched her the day before. They were working on her occupational therapy “homework,” practicing Handwriting without Tears, and Nat wasn’t focusing. (Sound familiar?) When the babysitter started getting firm with Nat, Nat started to laugh. The babysitter spanked her, squeezed her shoulder too hard, and put her in time out.

The next morning when the babysitter arrived, I told her we needed to talk. I said that I understood that she might be frustrated when Natalie laughed in her face. Nat does this, and it can be maddening. But when Nat laughs, she isn’t “laughing in your face” in a defiant manner. She’s actually scared. This is a sign that she’s afraid you’re going to hurt her. What you need to do is say, “I can see that you are afraid. I’m not going to hurt you, but I need you to pay attention. You need to follow directions... calm down... pick up what you threw... chew the food in your mouth..."

The babysitter looked me right in the eye, and said this: “I don’t believe that’s what was happening. When Natalie started laughing, she didn’t even look like herself anymore. Her laughter sounded demonic. I believe she was possessed by a demon. I was being impatient with her, and the devil saw an opportunity. He entered her body to teach me a lesson. After I spanked her, and prayed over her, the demon left her body. She was completely calm afterwards. It was amazing. I believe Natalie is perfectly capable of following any direction she is given.” (Read: There’s nothing wrong with her that a little discipline won’t cure.)

I paid her for an extra week and told her we couldn’t have her back again.

In my next few posts, I’ll sort through... OH MY GOSH... I’ve been a mess ever since... blubbering phone calls to Nat’s service providers, Natalie’s return to group daycare... stuff like that.

In the meantime, I need to know: What’s your reaction? I need some reality checks. Please, I need some support!