Caleb's week
Mood:  a-ok
So, Caleb has been on Concerta for 1 week, minus one day when I forgot to give it to him. My greatest interest was in seeing how he would do at school. I had to rely on my mom and my boyfriend for how he did over the weekend because I had to work every day.
But on Monday afternoon, I got an email from his teacher and she said that he had a good day. He only needed 7 redirections and seemed to be much happier.
On Tuesday, the email said he only needed 5 redirections and she commented that she thought Caleb actually had "Fun" that day. When I talked with him about it, he told me he did have fun. He even played football with some boys he has not ever played with. When I asked him about that he told me that he likes football but he doesn't like being tackled.
On Wednesday, the email from the teacher was much more lighthearted and she said that she even teased Caleb a little bit when she asked him what she should write about his day. He told her, "Tell my mom I only got in a little bit of trouble..." She said she laughed and teased him and he was smiling.
Thursday, there was no email from his teacher but I am thinking that "NO news is good news."
It is amazing to me how he is doing. He is much more of his sweet, funny self. My worries about putting him on medication were that he would be sedated and lethargic. But he is still spunky but the difference is that I can redirect him and he will respond and he will even be pleasant about it and not get mouthy. He is much more pleasant to be around and I think he feels better to.
I talked to him about how he felt the days he took his medicine compared to the day he didn't take it. He told me that his tummy hurt but he didn't feel angry all the time. The psychologist was right, if the med was going to work, we would see a change immediately. And we have.
It isnt all rosy. I can tell in the evening when the medication is beginning to wear off because he is much more owly and cranky and he will get a bit argumentative. Last night, he was trying to draw "the perfect bat" and was growing more and more frustrated. I told him that he should stop working on it right now because he was getting frustrated and angry. That did not help. He did however, walk away for a few minutes and then come back and try again.
Perfectionism is going to be another battle for him. He loves to draw and do crafts but he has an idea in his head about what it should look like and when his skill level can't produce that, he gets mad. These may be some of the things the psychologist and I can work on.
A friend asked me how the other kids are doing in relation to Caleb and his diagnosis. I think that for the most part, they don't seem affected. But I do see them playing with him more and he is more pleasant company to be with. He still likes to strike off and do his own thing but he will sometimes join in their play. This may be his personality. It's hard to say.

Posted by purpletulipmn at 10:31 AM CDT

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Waking the Bear
Mood:  sad
Mama Bear protects her cubs with tooth and claw and nothing comes between her babies. That's teh kind of mom I am and want to continue being. I've had to stand up and fight for my kids before--I fought their father. I learned he was molesting our daughter and I packed up my babies adn left.
That was 3 years ago. I learned then that I had strenght and courage and that I would (and could) do anything to keep my kids safe. It was hard. It hurt. I cried myself to sleep many nights in the midst of it. But I was determined to go through all the hard stuff I had to if it meant a better life for my kids.
Over the last month, I have come to realize that Mama Bear needs to return. My 2nd child, and my first son, is struggling. He is 6 1/2 years old and he needs his Mama Bear to stand up and fight for him. He's in the beginning stage of being diagnosed with ADHD. This is his story.
My son, as I said, is the 2nd of 4 kids and the oldest of my 3 boys. I knew from his birth that he was special. After 16 hours of induced labor, he was born via C-section. He had the cord wrapped around his neck 3 times and once around his shoulders. The doctor had given me a choice of going home and then coming back in a few days to try labor again but really felt that we would wind up in the same spot. The decision to have a C-section that day may have very well saved his life. So at 12:45am on Jan. 5, 1999, with a loud, fiesty cry, he was born. I named him Caleb. It means "Bold One". I had no idea how prophetic his name was. h grabbed hold of life with passion and a fighting nature. Perhaps it is this fiesty nature that will give him the strength and the drive to go through this challenge.
I think I noticed that Caleb was different when he was a little less than 2 years old. I would put him down for a nap and he would scream and fight the nap for hours until I would just give up and get him out of bed. Nothing I did could help him settle down. I was exhausted and in tears by the end of that fight.
When he was 2, he started speaking in full sentences. My joke is that he hasn't shut up since. It seemed that despite his enormous vocabulary, he had little comprehendsion because he needed constant redirection and correction. If I told him not to do something, I had to qualify it by saying, 'No, you may not kick the wall...or kick the headboard...or the footboard...or the door...or..." At first, I thought it was because he was a boy. But then I had 2 more boys and didn't have the same problem. Don't get me wrong, they are just as loud and rowdy as their brother but they can be redirected and corrected and they don't fight me on every detail.
When Caleb was 3, and I had separated from their father, he seemed to have the worst time adjusting. My daughter was depressed for many months, I was grieving but Caleb's behavior grew more and more out of control. He would thrash, kick and scream (the most blood curdling,horrific screams you can imagine) until he exhausted himself. I put him into therapy too. But his psychologist said that he was a normal, active boy who was just dealing with a traumatic event in his young life. And therapy ended.
Gradually, the tantrums lessened and my cheerful, funny and sweet boy returned. But the house still bears the scars. There are holes adn gouges in the walls, a ruined antique table, many broken toys and then there are the scars on my memory.
Before Kindergarten he was tested and shown to be bright and creative. But I kept waiting for phone calls from his teacher despite that. He did have a brief period of difficulty until he adjusted to the routine and then he had good days and bad days but nothing that sent off any warning bells.
So, when he began 1st grade, I figured he would take a few weeks to adjust adn then he would settle in. One afternoon, a few weeks ago, as I was leaving my class and headed for the next thing on the agenda, I had a message from his teacher. My stomach hit the floor and I gulped. He was having a horrible day and was hiding under his desk. I got a phone call the next day and then one every day the next week. Until I got the calls from the principal. His behavior was so out of control that he had had to leave his classroom twice to sit in the principal's office. I had to take him home that day and then he lost 3 days of recess and had a day of before-school detention. The principal began saying things to me about "Special Ed.". Gulp.
For being Mama Bear, I was pathetically hiding in my cave. I couldn't deal with it. I had a full plate just by myself. I am in school full time. I work part time, I have 4 kids and homework, deadlines, housework and laundry. And now the school is piling more on me. I was in denial. I was angry. I thought Caleb was punishing me for starting to date again or for being gone so much between school and work. I didn't want to believe that he could be genuinely suffering and have problems that would not "just go away" given enough time and persistance.
But when my son sat at the dinner table one night, put his hand to his forhead and began hitting himself saying,"I'm so stupid, stupid, stupid..." well, Mama Bear woke up, stood on her hind legs and roared, "I will FIGHT for my son!"
I called and got the psychologist appt moved up. It was the best thing. This man explained things to me in a way no one had done before and when he started talking about medication, I wasn't so scared. I said to myself, "Whatever it takes...I will do whatever it takes..."
A week later, I sat in the pediatrician's office, telling the Dr. about the struggle and she looked at me and said, "He's a boy who needs help. So here's what we will do..."
That was last Thursday. On Friday he had his first dose of Concerta. He told me, "I don't feel angry. But my tummy hurts." And then he couldn't fall asleep because his tongue kept moving. I'm watching him like a hawk but my mom tells me I need to back off because Caleb knows I am worried adn because of that, he worries too.
Tomorrow he goes to school on medication. I wonder how the day will go. I asked his teacher to email me with how the day goes. We shall see.