ADHD Parenting Blog

Archives: February 2009

Do I Need an ADHD Support Group?

If I get to take one evening a month for myself, having it revolve around ADHD is not the way I want to spend it.

"I read some of your blog," my supervisor said, "and now I understand your situation a little better. I have a better idea of why you're leaving."

And then, the question: "Do you go to a support group?"

I get that question a lot.

There is a support group in town for parents of kids with ADHD. And no, I don't go. The central Iowa chapter of the National Alliance for Mental Illness (NAMI) is offering an eight-week class for parents of kids with ADHD. Wow! That is so cool! But I'm not going. Village Enterprises, the agency that provides Natalie's in-home services, is starting a new parent support group. I'll go, but I don't really want to.

It's not that I don't need the support. And I'd love the professional advice and information. It's just that if I get to take one evening a month for myself, having it revolve around ADHD is not the way I want to spend it.

Make an appointment for me to have a massage. Sit me down in a comfy chair and hand me a good book. Put a glass of wine and a yummy meal in front of me. Let me go to bed early. Offer to watch my daughter so I can go to a movie with my son, or on a date with my husband. But don't talk to me about ADHD.

Maybe I need to get over that way of thinking. What do you think?

Do you attend a support group for parents of kids with ADHD? Is it helpful?

Medicate Me, Please!

I’m rambling on like a sleep-deprived fool. Hey Doc, how about some meds for me, too?

Natalie has always had problems with sleep, and, right or wrong, I tend to blame those problems on her attention deficit disorder (ADHD).

When Natalie was younger, falling asleep was the problem. Even though taking a stimulant to help with sleep seems counterintuitive, a 7 p.m. dose of Ritalin used to help with that issue.

In addition, Natalie has long had a pattern of waking up in the middle of the night, maybe two or three nights each month, and being unable to return to sleep for at least an hour and a half. Not ideal, but at that rate, I could live with it.

Recently, both of these problems have intensified. First, Natalie can't get to sleep. Then when she finally does, she's likely to reawaken between 2 and 4 a.m., and remain awake for several hours. Our old friend Benadryl, which we’ve used as needed upon the advice of our pediatrician, doesn't seem to help any more.

What's going on to account for these changes? And, more important, what can we do about it?

My mama-intuition tells me that it's a combination of factors, including:

• Making a zillion medication changes since November.
• The changing season and lengthening of days--I've noticed that Natalie's sleep pattern always changes as we approach time changes.
• A little thing I learned about from my good friend Google, called adrenarche, a stage that precedes puberty. (I thought that my skinny little baby girl was too young, at eight and a half, to start having underarm odor. I was afraid that her meds were messing with her development. Thankfully, I was wrong! Adrenarche begins between ages six and 10, and underarm odor is one of its indicators. She may be stinky, but she's perfectly normal--for once!)

Do any of you have folk wisdom to corroborate my theories?

I called the pediatrician's office--AGAIN--yesterday, four sleepless nights out of seven, and we're changing meds--AGAIN. We are tapering off Prozac over six long days and nights. This is just fine with Nat's special ed teacher. She never did like the idea of Nat taking Prozac. She believes it accounts for this manic-y love-fest thing Nat has going. We added it in the first place to help with sleep and anxiety, and it's done neither. So it's outta here.

We're trying Clonidine instead. (I'm trying to forget I ever read that stuff about sudden death in children who take Ritalin and Clonidine together--and praying this line doesn't come back to haunt me.)

If anyone has experience with the use of Clonidine to help with sleep in kids with ADHD, please share! I'll just take a little nap while I wait for your commentzzzzzzzz...

ADHD-Driven Unemployment

To paraphrase Ned Hallowell, ADHD drives some people to distraction. It’s driven me to unemployment.

I am turning in my letter of resignation in approximately 97 minutes. What in the world would lead me to give up a part-time, decent-paying job with paid vacation and sick time in this economy? At a library, no less, the perfect setting for someone who loves to read and write.

ADHD-fueled desperation, that's what. And I don't even have attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD)! My daughter, Natalie, does.

My knight in shining armor (husband) and I went out for dinner Friday night, and we talked the situation over: I'm terribly unhappy at work, and desperately overwhelmed at home. This isn't a new topic. You may remember that back in November I was ready to resign, and then chickened out. Now, the decision seems more clear-cut. I've given it time, and I've tried several tactics to make my work situation more tenable.

I've also tried a variety of tactics to make our home life more tolerable: setting up in-home services for Natalie, hiring a college student (briefly) to do the laundry, working with a professional organizer. And I'm still not coping.

It's time.

With the decision made, I feel fantastic. With less to cope with, I'll be able to get through times like last night, when Nat woke up at 3:30 a.m. and couldn't get back to sleep until 6:00. Fitting in all of her doctor and therapy appointments will be a lot easier. I'll have more emotional energy to call on when Nat's needy for attention.

So what if I'll have to give up coffee shops, my occasional pedicure, and my subscription to Audible.com? My children are worth it. My health is worth it.

68 minutes. Wish me luck!

Oh, and I'm not really unemployed, I'm a freelance writer. Spread the word: WILL WORK FOR COFFEE MONEY!

My Big Blowup

And the countdown to self-destruction continues: seven...six...five...

Last time, I wrote about how my part-time job has gone from being a stress reliever to a stress inducer, and how this impacts my ability to cope with the competing stresses of parenting my sweet, funny, exasperating child with ADHD.

You know that request for one week of unpaid time off work that I mentioned yesterday? DENIED!

Want to hear about my big blowup last week? The one I referred to in my last post?

I went in to work last Wednesday morning for a meeting with my supervisor and the head of another department. They are taking away one of my duties, which happens to be my favorite part of my job. I'd known it was coming--the change makes sense for the library and the tax payers. It just sucks for me.

So I decided to spend the rest of my day doing something to bring me joy--preparing for Natalie's Gotcha Day celebration. February 12 was the sixth anniversary of Natalie's adoption. Oh, the gains she has made! I love her so!

I bought treat bags and candy and printed a note to stick inside listing Nat's date and place of birth, the name we gave her when she joined our family, and the date of her adoption. It's our Gotcha Day tradition to distribute these treat bags to Nat's classmates and friends each year. I started filling bags, then stopped when it was time to pick up Natalie and two neighbor kids up from religious ed.

Nat had been to school, then daycare, then religious ed. Too many transitions. Add in that it was 5:15 and she was starving, always a trigger for out-of-control behavior. Top that with all of our ongoing ADHD medication changes. And Natalie was a wreck.

My afternoon of "finding joy" hadn't restocked my reserves of patience and energy. After 30 minutes with a whining, flailing, impulsive Natalie, I lost it. I burst into loud sobs. I grabbed the treat bags, the Gotcha Day notes, and the candy, and threw them by the fistful as hard as I could into the trash.

I really scared Natalie. She burst into tears. "Do you still love me, Mommy?" she bawled over and over. I pulled her onto my lap and we held each other, both sobbing and sobbing.

Actually, a small break is on the way, on the homefront. Natalie is going to Girl Scout camp--for the first time!--this weekend. And Don is taking me out for dinner tonight. Nat slept all night last night after being awake for hours in the middle of the night the two previous nights running. So, I might make it without completely cracking up, after all.

But now that my week off has been denied, what should I do? What would you do?

ADHD Parenting Cope-o-Meter

Lately, my ADHD parenting cope-o-meter has been hovering dangerously close to the “Danger: About to Self-Destruct” reading.

I had a real fuse-blowing, smoke-coming-out-of-my-ears, tears-running-down-my-face, sobbing-with-breath-hitching meltdown just last week. I threw a fit to rival Natalie's Top Ten Best of the ADHD Fit-Thrower's fits.

When I'm asked what my greatest stressor is, I always say it's parenting a special needs child. But it's really much more complicated than that. Thus, I discovered my cope-o-meter: a highly sensitive measurement of my ability to cope with everyday life. It's predicated on caring for Natalie, but factors in every aspect of my existence.

Take my job, for example. I work part-time at a public library, and have been there for nine years. When my children were young, this job was a pressure reliever. Going to work was a "vacation" from stuff like changing diapers, filling the dishwasher, and hearing the Barney theme song one time too many. I could be creative and social. I could think and contribute. It energize me--I created a hugely successful early literacy outreach program. I even wrote and published a book, which was released complete with a plush-toy tie in of the book's main character. Cope-o-meter reading: Highly satisfied, reaching lifelong goals, very nice balance between work and family.

The whole structure and culture of my job has changed in the last two years or so. I'm no longer allowed to contribute, because I'm part time, in too low of a job classification, don't have the correct degree, and because comp time has been outlawed. Or maybe it's really because they all hate me, I don't know. Cope-o-meter reading: Work is now a drain on my reserves--it sucks up my energy.

On the other side of the scale, writing this blog is cope-o-meter nirvana. Getting a good night's sleep, having a glass of wine with a friend, taking a walk in the sun: all coping pluses.

Cope-o-meter pressures include winter, a messy house, parking tickets, cancelled respite weekends...you get the picture.

I wrote a letter to my boss on Sunday, requesting one week of unpaid time off because I'm so stressed out by my ADHD child. I am...but it's not the only factor giving me a dangerously low cope-o-meter reading. I hope I get the time off, and I hope it relieves some pressure.

If not, anyone want to start a pool about when and where I’ll self-destruct? Or should we just start the countdown? Ten, nine, eight...

A Day in the Life of an ADHD Advocate

Between working with doctors on my ADHD daughter's medication adjustments and advocating for her special education, I spend a lot of time in ADHD-related appointments.

Another day, another ADHD-related appointment. Today’s outing was a med check with Natalie’s pediatrician.

This time, instead of making any major changes in Natalie’s ADHD medication, we’re just adjusting doses. Thank goodness. Natalie is taking Ritalin LA twice a day now, with fairly good results, and starting today, we’re moving up to what we hope will be the ideal dosage. I’m crossing my fingers.

Whew. It’s been a long journey since the special ed teacher’s report at Natalie’s fall teacher's conference had me rushing to call the doctor for med help. Natalie’s ability to focus was up and down, we were told. The measures they use to track her learning were really inconsistent. She wasn’t progressing like she has in earlier grades.

My mind went immediately to medicine, and the long, hard journey of trial and error began. Now that we’re back to Ritalin, I’m having second thoughts about how much of a factor medication really was in the first place.

I do believe that some med adjustments were coming due, and that using Ritalin LA will, in the end, offer more consistent symptom control than short acting Ritalin.

But…I’m not convinced that was the main issue.

Natalie started her educational career by receiving early intervention services at home. When she turned three she transitioned to preschool, and was in a great classroom that integrated kids with special needs and typical learners. She was pulled out part of each day for special ed from the very beginning. Her teachers tried various learning situations, and their data showed that Natalie learns best not 1:1, and not in a large group. She learns best in a small group with either one or two other children.

The school provided this exact situation during Nat’s special ed time throughout preschool, early kindergarten, kindergarten, and first grade. At that fateful fall conference, I heard, for the first time, that, now that Nat’s in second grade, the special ed teacher has a group of eight kids every time she works with Natalie.

I’m convinced that the number of kids in the group is a bigger factor in how Natalie is (not) learning than medication.

I did a little bit of wimpy advocacy about this problem. I emailed, and then talked briefly with the principal. This is typical around the state, and at the second grade level, I heard. The special ed program goes over budget every year anyway, and now there’s added pressure on the budget due to the economy. I could talk to the district’s head of special ed, but it wasn’t likely to make any difference.

Today I discussed this issue with Natalie’s doctor. She’s sending us to the University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics for a developmental evaluation. If they make recommendations, I can ask that those be included in Nat’s IEP. It’s worth a try.

Another day, another ADHD-related appointment…

The ADHD Fever Effect

As my daughter's temperature went up, her ADHD symptoms subsided--the fever effect made the ADD go away. For a few days.

Have you ever noticed that having a fever reduces your child’s ADHD symptoms?

Natalie crawled into bed with me at 5:30 Thursday morning. “I think I have a fever,” she said. Sure enough, she was broiling. On Friday, the fever persisted, and in addition, Nat complained of a sore throat. A trip to the pediatrician’s office resulted in a positive strep test. My poor baby.

While I’d never wish a fever on my child or anyone else’s, I’m always amazed by the improvement in Natalie’s ADHD symptoms when she has a fever.

She and I looked through dog books from her school library for over an hour. We watched TV. Nat usually can’t hold still long enough to read or watch TV for very long. No impulsive behaviors. No messes. No fits. Lots of snuggles.

When I gave Natalie Advil, and it took the fever away, my usual ADHD girl reappeared, and there was no keeping her quiet. We ended up playing outside for a couple of hours, despite her sickness. As the Advil wore off and her fever came back, she calmed down again.

I may be wrong, but I could swear that the changes I see in Natalie when she has a fever are more than just the illness slowing her down. I wish there was something researchers could learn from this fever phenomenon.

Thanks to a few doses of Amoxicillin, Natalie is much better. She’s ready to return to school, and I’m ready to return to work. I’m glad, of course, but at the same time, wouldn’t it be nice if the fever-effect (minus the fever) was available by prescription for the treatment of ADHD?

The Smell of ADHD Impulsiveness

Like many children with attention deficit, my ADHD daughter lets her impulsiveness get the better of her and it really stinks!

I went to bed with a headache. I woke up with a headache. Could that have anything to with the SMELL permeating our house?

Natalie and several friends were playing upstairs in Natalie’s room last weekend while I worked in the kitchen. Lindzey came down to find a Nintendo DS game, and then ran back upstairs. The scent of too much perfume followed her.

Lindzey, a real girly –girl, must have gotten into her mom’s perfume, I thought. But the smell didn’t dissipate after Lindzey left the room. It kept getting stronger. Where in the world was that smell coming from?

When I finally decided to investigate, the mystery wasn’t hard to solve. It turns out that Natalie was the culprit in The Case of the Sneaky Spritz-Happy Bandit. She’d emptied out a canister of vanilla body spray in her room, and then had gone on a search for more spray-ables. My good perfume sat on her dresser, and my nose told me that several good sprays had entered the mix.

I gave Natalie heck; reclaimed my perfume. I turned off the furnace, opened windows, turned on the ceiling fan. By bedtime, the smell was still too strong for Natalie to sleep in her room.

Fast forward a couple of days. Each time we open the door and enter the house, we’re still greeted by Natalie’s signature scent. Natalie, and this time, her friend Harry, are playing in Nat’s room. The smell, once again, starts to intensify. Would she…could she…REALLY do it AGAIN?

Yes! I guess spraying is a fascinating, fun, just-gotta-do-it-regardless-of-the- consequences activity! This time, Natalie had used up most of a bottle of aromatherapy room spray that she’d found in my bathroom. She came downstairs to show me how she’d refilled it with water, so she could spray even more. I grabbed it out of her hands, and threw it in the garbage. Upstairs, I found half a dozen bottles of hairsprays and styling products on the counter in her bathroom, and the tell-tale scent of hairspray filled the air. I could barely breath—yet I was fuming.

Natalie knew better! And she couldn’t stop herself. That damned ADHD impulsiveness at work, once again.

Ironically, Natalie’s spray of choice for today was designed to relieve stress.

Needless to say…it didn’t.

Medication Mix Up

Instead of treating my daughter's ADHD with Ritalin, I added a dose of stupidity.

As if it isn’t hard enough to feel okay about medicating my ADHD child, yesterday I gave her an added dose of my own stupidity.

Natalie was playing outside (thank God for a break from winter!) with several neighborhood friends when med time rolled around. I went into the house, grabbed her medicine and a glass of milk, and took them across the street to her.

“These are green,” Natalie said, as she tossed them in her mouth. “Dad gave me orange ones yesterday.”

What have I done?

I ran in the house, and checked the bottle that I’d taken the capsules from. Oh my god, I just gave my daughter an overdose of Prozac instead of her Ritalin LA.

I called First Nurse, our clinic’s after hours emergency service, and confessed.

“Call Poison Control,” the nurse said, giving me the number…but not before taking my name, Natalie’s name and date of birth, and the name of our pediatrician. Now I’ll be on the bad-mother watch list, I thought, as I gave her the information.

I called poison control. “She’ll be absolutely fine,” said the voice on the other end. “That’s not a toxic dose. If anything, she may seem a little tired.” She advised me to hold off on giving Natalie the Ritalin LA for a couple of hours.

Don walked in the door as I hung up the phone. He’d returned from buying groceries to find Natalie doing something she shouldn’t. The cat was outside, having made the great escape as I ran inside in a panic. I could tell he was wondering, “What the hell’s going on?”

I burst into tears as I confessed my latest mothering failure.

Thankfully, Nat seemed just fine for the rest of the day, although she wondered why I kept asking her how she felt. And she was extra sleepy this morning.

“That’s because you woke up so early yesterday,” I said.

“No, it’s because YOU gave me the wrong medicine,” she responded.

“You’re right. I’ll be so, so, careful to never do that again.” I said. Better confess my bad-mom behavior to her teachers, I thought, because I know they’ll hear about it from her.

Stupid, stupid, stupid me.

Why Can't I 'Fix' Her ADHD?

I know my daughter's not actually broken. But some days I just want a magic fix to make all the distractibility, impulsivity, and anxiety go away.

Last night a desperate thought fought its way through the harried chaos of my brain and into my consciousness:

I CAN’T DO THIS. I need to send Natalie away for a week -- somewhere — and have someone “fix” her.

Sadly, “somewhere” doesn’t exist. And what she has can’t be “fixed.”

I know, I know. She’s not actually broken, she’s just wired differently. And with the right ADHD medication and coping skills, she’ll have a perfectly marvelous life.

But getting there — to the right medication and to coping skill mastery — has gotten to me.

We’re in the midst of yet another med change, and so far, not so good. Nat’s taking 20 mg of Ritalin LA, twice a day, and Prozac at bedtime. On the positive side, the motor-craziness that the Focalin XR seemed to cause is gone. Nat seems more herself, somehow. And she’s sleeping beautifully. On the negative side, she’s very, very, distractible and impulsive. It’s clear she’s not being “naughty.” She really can’t control herself.

I have a call into the doctor again. Can we try a higher dose? I hope so.

Because the only “somewhere” that Natalie belongs is in my arms. I just need the strength to hold her.

An ADHD Kid's Best Friend

Natalie's love fests with our family cat often end in nips and yowls. Yet, still, Smokey Joe comes back for more. Does he know?

Aaron holds you upside down.
Natalie holds you way too tight.
Daddy doesn’t hold you at all.
Mama holds you just right!

Smokey Joe, our fat gray cat, loves Natalie, and Natalie loves him. And being Natalie, with her ADHD, she shows her love — sloppily, vigorously, exuberantly…

…and often! In fact, every single time Natalie spots him — whether he’s asleep on a bed, or walking over to the window to look for birds, if he enters Nat’s line of vision, she impulsively attacks.

Does “attack” sound like a strange choice of words to describe Natalie’s snuggle-style? If Smokey could talk, I think he’d concur with my description. Nat grabs him, scoops him up, and squeezes. She baby-talks words of love in his ears as she rubs her sticky hands and face and slobber on his fur. She scratches him ultra-vigorously under the chin and on the tummy.

She’d never hurt him on purpose, but she hurts him “accilly-dently” most every day. His yowls prove it.

Still, he rarely runs away. He hunkers down, ears back. He stares at me as if whispering, “Help?” If she gets too rough, he nips her.

But even when I wrench apart her vice-grip arms to free him, he doesn’t run away. He flops down and waits for more. He opens his eyes wide, rolls on his back, and kicks his back legs.

Why does he put up with — even invite — Natalie’s un-tempered ADHD-style attention? No one else could get away with treating him like she does.

I think Smokey views Nat as an extra-feisty kitten. Possibly even a kitten with special needs. I really believe that, on some level, he understands where she’s coming from…and, that she loves him.

How does your child with ADHD interact with your pets?

SuperBowl of No Impulse Control

This week's Top 5 ADHD-powered plays by my impulsive MVP, Natalie.

In just the past week, my all-star ADHD daughter has really opened up her impulse-powered playbook to...

1. Pick up Daddy’s razor and run a finger across the blade

2. Dump out every bottle of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash in the shower

3. Drink the last drops of beer out of the empty bottles under the sink

4. Pour several colors of paint on the garage floor, then brush it around with a toy broom

5. Climb in a plastic storage bin and position yourself at the top of the stairs… on your mark, get set — “STOP!”

“Why?”

“You’ll break your neck!”

Natalie is this week’s ADHD MVP!

(I’m so proud.)

Please share your ADHD MVP’s top plays!