ADHD Parenting Blog

Archives: December 2008

Advice for ADHD Wigglebottoms

ADHD preschoolers don't have to sit still to enjoy Howard B. Wigglebottom's basic listening lessons.

I was checking my ADHD parenting blog for comments this morning, and found a new comment from Howard Binkow. Hey, I recognize that name! Howard B. Wigglebottom--is that you?

Howard says he’s the CEO of the We Do Listen Non Profit Foundation, but I recognize his name as the author of the book: Howard B. Wigglebottom Learns to Listen, one of my favorite picture books. It's great for the preschool through first grade crowd, and especially good for kids with ADHD, because it introduces some basic listening skills--without insisting that kids have to sit still in order to listen and take in info.

Howard is a white rabbit that gets into a little trouble at school because he doesn’t listen. After picking up some listening pointers, his day goes more smoothly. There's a summary of the listening skills at the end of the book. The book is beautifully illustrated—I absolutely love the color scheme. The colors themselves are calming.

This book is the perfect gift for the early childhood teacher on your list, or to read at home to help your little wigglebottom prepare for school. Natalie loved it when she was a couple years younger. Come to think of it, she’d probably like it now! I’ll have to bring it back out.

A quick look at Amazon shows that since we last met, Howard has taken on feeling good about himself and bullying. I’ll have to take a look at his latest adventures!

Happy reading, wigglebottoms! Thanks for contacting me, Howard!

ADHD Stole Your Holiday Card

How is it that Natalie's ADHD permeates our whole household? And where the heck are all those Christmas cards hiding?

If you're one of those people who found the time, energy, and organizational skills to send out Christmas cards, I salute you. I haven’t managed to send Christmas cards for several years.

If you are one of the kind folks who sent a card to my family, thank you -- and I’m sorry. I hope to find it and read it sometime before next Christmas.

No, I do not have ADHD. My daughter Natalie does. Although she’s the only person in the family with ADHD, she generates enough chaos throughout our home to create the illusion that ADHD is a family-wide trait. If you walked in our front door, you’d be convinced that even Smokey Joe, our fat gray cat, must have it.

This year’s Christmas cards have gone the way of everything else that enters our house, which is to say: they’re everywhere. It’s not that I don’t have a designated spot to display them—I do. I have a nice green basket on a table in the dining room. You’d think it would be simple enough to get the cards out of the mailbox, through the front door, and into this basket. You’d be wrong.

The card from Don’s cousin Deb and her family flew right past the dining room and came to rest in the bathroom. Natalie made an emergency pit stop when we got home from work and daycare one night. I set the mail down on the counter next to the sink while I helped her, and it’s still there. I managed to at least read the return address — Denver -- before following Natalie to her next crisis. For several weeks I wondered when Deb’s family moved to Colorado without me hearing about it, but I kept forgetting to ask Don. I found out at Christmas with Don’s family that they didn’t move to Colorado — they’re living in Denver, Iowa.

Pat and Tracey sent a gorgeous card with red flocking and a little jewel-type embellishment on the front. It was so beautiful and fragile that it had to be hand-cancelled at the post office. Inside was a great black and white photo of her three kids. I admire it every time I walk up the stairs. It’s still sitting on the bottom step--right next to the bill from daycare and the overdue library books-- where I dropped it in a failed attempt to catch Natalie as she ran through the house in her snow boots, tracking snow across the living room floor. So much for: “handle with care”.

I gathered a whole handful of cards from around the house one day last week, and sat down at the kitchen table to open them. The sounds of Natalie in a rage in her room reached me before I could read -- before I could even open -- a single one. I have no idea where that pile of cards is now.

So, if you sent a card this holiday season, forgive me for not reciprocating. Forgive me for not commenting on the lovely picture, the newsy letter. Apologizing is the story of my life -- my life with a child with ADHD.

Christmas Craziness: Not Just for ADHD Kids

Holiday stress isn't just for families with ADHD children. The excitement of Christmas and the upcoming vacation has everyone a little wired.

It’s not just the ADHD kids now: the excitement of the Holiday season has permeated Natalie’s entire school.

Natalie has never had a major problem with her behavior at school. Trouble focusing, yes. Serious acting out, no. (She saves that for me.)

But, last week, from her reports, there was a disturbing change. She was getting “strikes” and “warnings”. Teachers were “yelling” at her.

Oh, no. Is her new ADHD medication not working after all?

I stopped in one morning to touch base with Natalie’s special ed teacher, Mrs. Carter. She hadn’t heard that Natalie was getting into any trouble. She’d check with the other teachers.

She called me later that day. The music teacher asked Natalie to take the string from her shirt, which was supposed to be tied behind her back, out of her mouth. She hadn’t yelled, or given her a strike or a warning.

In fact, no one had yelled. No one was seeing any changes in her school behavior.

When Mrs. Carter talked to Natalie, even she denied any problems. (She later told me that she’d “fooled” Mrs. Carter.)

But, the kids throughout the school were wired. The special ed room was loud, the hallways were loud, the lunch room was loud. Mrs. Carter, personally, had experienced the hardest week of her entire teaching career.

The day-before-vacation-craziness had taken hold of all the kids -- two whole weeks early.

Added to that, Nat’s regular classroom teacher was gone a couple of days. First, to a meeting, and then out sick. Natalie has always reacted to the uncertainty of subs with weird behavior, so her false reports, and her “fooling” of Mrs. Carter fit. As did the day Dad had to pick her up after lunch because she had a bad headache.

Last night, she started angling to stay home sick today. Her ear hurt. Her throat hurt. She woke up this morning with cold sores bubbling up on her bottom lip.

I sent her to school anyway, with the reassurance that her classroom teacher will probably be back today. Do your best, I told her. If the teachers seem stressed, look around you. Could they be reacting to the other kids, not you? You don’t want to miss your party at religious ed Wednesday night, or your class party at school on Friday.

Winter break from school — Christmas -- then readjusting to school resuming in January.

Ho, ho, ho! Looks like this joke’s on the teachers and parents.

Waiting for Christmas: ADHD Torture

For a child with ADHD, waiting for Christmas is challenge beyond her capabilities. When Natalie says, “I can’t wait for Christmas!” she means it literally.

Christmas is coming, but not fast enough for Natalie.

Do you know that holiday song? “It’s the most wonderful time of the year!”

Not at the Marner house. When there is a child with ADHD in the family, the song goes more like this: “It’s the most challenging wait of the year!”

I’ve written before in my Parenting ADHD Children Blog about how hard it is for Natalie to wait for special occasions, and about what we’ve done to try and help her. Making a paper chain, and removing one link each day helped her to wait for her first Girl Scout meeting. It gave her a visual to help her see the progression of time—see that time was passing, that she was getting closer each day to her goal.

With the coming of Christmas, I hoped an Advent calendar would do the same. It’s the same concept—counting down, being able to see the big day getting closer. The calendar I gave her even has a piece of chocolate behind each little window, so it’s kind of like a behavioral reward system.

To my great disappointment, it’s not working. As with many things we’ve tried, what worked once doesn’t necessary do the trick a second time. Sure, Nat likes to open the little windows. She like the chocolate. But it’s doing nothing to prevent her from obsessing about getting a Nintendo DS, a Matchbox space ship toy, and Lucky, the electronic dog--the top three things on her Christmas list. She wants them, and she wants them now!

Aaron gets excited about Christmas too. But for him, this excitement is normal. When he says, “I can’t wait!” he doesn’t mean it literally. When Natalie says, “I can’t wait!” she’s warning you of an impending ADHD meltdown that’s likely to result in physical injury or property damage.

Forget trying to teach her that Christmas isn’t about the presents. And don’t assume that learning to wait is just a matter of normal development—I’m telling you, it ain’t happenin’. My mommy-radar tells me that her inability to handle anticipation isn’t normal.

Is this typical for kids with ADHD? And, if so, does anyone have any advice to share about helping our kids learn to cope with waiting?

If not, then for me, this month will be: “The most patience-trying time of the year.”

Blame It on the ADHD

I tend to cope with my daughter's negative behavior and temper tantrums by blaming it on the ADHD. Is that a parenting cop-out?

Last week, our in-home therapist, Gayle, helped me to feel good about an instinct I have when it comes to parenting my ADHD child.

When Natalie is totally out of control—you know the drill—flailing around, kicking and screaming, biting, grabbing everything in sight to throw or to rip apart (shall I go on?) I try to figure out what set her off. I work on putting that into words for her. I focus on helping her to calm down and regain control. I don’t address each individual negative behavior.

Last Thursday night my niece Hannah was at our house (she works for Gayle) to work with Natalie. Gayle stopped in, as she does every few sessions, to guide Hannah’s work.

Nat was wild, and Gayle suggested Hannah help Nat to release some energy by doing some sit-ups and using her exercise ball. Nat complied, just barely, but this coping skill wasn’t working-yet.

Nat was being mouthy, disrespectful. Gayle and I ignored it.

Hannah didn’t.

And I felt embarrassed; deeply ashamed.

Hannah didn’t say this, of course, but this is what I heard: “No wonder your child acts this way. How can you let her get away with talking to you like that?”

Somehow, Gayle sensed I felt this way, and she brought it up later, after Nat had calmed down. My instincts weren’t wrong, according to Gayle. For a kid with ADHD, in those particular circumstances, focusing on using a coping skill trumped confronting her smart-mouth comments.

It takes understanding where a child’s behavior is coming from to see this. I strive for just that, and I can certainly see how looking for ways to connect her behavior to ADHD can look like a parenting-cop-out.

I’m not a perfect parent. Not even a “very good” one. My feelings will continue to get hurt.

But I’m trying.

ADHD Water Park Magic

Nat's weekend away with her ADHD friend and his parents worked wonders for her behavior and she's sleeping like a baby.

Natalie arrived home from her weekend away with her friend Harry late Sunday afternoon.

“We got some great pictures,” Harry’s mom, Victoria said. “There’s one of the two of them at a restaurant. Both of them are resting their heads on the table.”

Two kids with ADHD tired out before midnight? Their strategy—let the kids play at the indoor water park until they wear themselves out—apparently worked.

“What you don’t see in the picture is Steve and I clinking our glasses of wine!”

Most of the weekend, it turns out, Natalie and Harry had the water park to themselves. Two ADHD kids vs. two lifeguards and two parents: I like those odds.

Nat’s re-entry into family life went smoothly as well. I used to dread her homecomings from weekends away—not because I didn’t miss her like crazy, but because she’d inevitably freak out. All the control she’d exerted over her behavior for Grandma or Aunt Ann would suddenly give out, and the dam would break. Have you seen that pattern with your ADHD kid? This doesn’t seem to happen anymore with Natalie.

We had a wonderful evening together—decorating our Christmas tree as a family. Sharing some cake for my birthday, which was Saturday.

And when bedtime came, the water’s magic was still working. Nat went right to sleep, no Benadryl needed.

Water park weekend, anyone?

ADHD Childcare: Taking Turns

We’ve created a wonderful arrangement with another family of trading off caring for each other's ADHD kids while one set of parents takes a break.

I kissed Natalie good-bye this morning at the door to her second grade classroom knowing I wouldn’t get another kiss until Sunday night. She’s leaving town at 1:00 pm today (getting out of school early!) with her friend and soul-sibling, Harry, and his family. They’re spending the weekend at a new hotel with an indoor water park at Iowa’s Lake Rathbun.

Harry’s mom, Victoria, said Harry’s dad, Steve, called the resort to find out what time the water park closes. He was told that it closes at 9:00 pm. So early? They were hoping for 11:00! Their plan is to let the kids wear themselves out until they’re ready to collapse, then give them their teddy bears and call it a night. I hope that’s exactly how it turns out, but there’s a good chance that Natalie’s ADHD-fueled excitement will outlast their best efforts—especially this first night--so I sent along some Benadryl.

We’re so blessed to have friends that we can trust to take care of Natalie. They accept her and love her just the way she is. They understand her behavior, and are willing to deal with it; in the car, in the hotel, in restaurants. Natalie will feel safe, loved, and happy.

We’ll owe Harry’s family big time for giving us this break! And we’ll reciprocate gladly sometime soon, with just as much love and understanding.

We’ve fallen into a habit with Harry and his family of trading off caring for the two kids while one set of parents takes a break. Not long ago, this arrangement was fairly difficult. The demands of caring for two super-high-energy kids was hardly worth the break we got in return. But as the kids have matured it’s gotten easier and easier. It’s now—clearly—a win-win arrangement.

Have you ever thought of trading childcare with another special needs family?

The ADHD Guilt Stops Here!

ADHD is real. And as the parent of a child who lives with it each day, I hereby vow to stop people like 'Ray' from questioning my judgment or imposing any false guilt. Are you with me, Moms?

To respond or not to respond to an ADHD “non-believer”? That is today’s question.

In a comment to one of my recent posts about ADHD medications, Ray writes that he doesn’t believe in ADHD or the use of “mind-altering” medications to treat children.

My first instinct, upon reading this, was to argue. But that’s been done by folks who know a lot more about science and medicine than I do. ADHD is real. My child has it. I wouldn’t withhold safe, necessary treatment from my child any more than I’d tell a diabetic not to use insulin. ‘Nough said.

My second thought was to ignore the comment, give no response at all. Assume that the people who visit ADDitudeMag.com are mostly like-minded — after all, they’re seeking out information and support from a respected source. People will read the comment; maybe go “hmmm,” and then move on.

Finally, I decided to respond. Not to argue. Not to express outrage. Just to say this:

Parents, make a silent cyber-vow with me. Ready?

“We hereby refuse to take on an unwarranted burden of guilt and questioning.”

Mmmm. That felt good.

That’s all I have for you, Ray. Have a good day.

Truly Thankful

On Thursday, the whole family gave heartfelt thanks for Natalie's new medication - Focalin XR - and the calm peace of a happy child.

Over the river and through the woods to Grandmother’s house we went. Well, east on I-80, actually. To Hills, Iowa, a tiny little town that doesn’t have any. Any hills, that is. For Thanksgiving. A scrumptious, traditional Thanksgiving with family.

The big story of The Marner Family Thanksgiving, 2008 is a non-story, a story of nothing happening. Of a calm, peaceful, 2 ½ hour car ride. With Natalie in the car. Living. Breathing. But calm and quiet.

Somebody pinch me!

We’ve always dreaded long car rides with Natalie. Her ADHD makes it hard for her to sit still. She gets bored, she whines. She has fits, she throws things. She can’t keep her hands—feet—elbows—knees—spit—to herself.

Until...ta da! Focalin XR!

I’m sold. Sign me up for a commercial — a public service announcement. I’ll tell the world.

And no, it wasn’t just a fluke — she was the same way on the drive back!

Happy Thanksgiving? Yep.

How ‘bout you?