Celebrating small successes

Sometimes finding evidence of positive behavior amidst the chaos of a defiant child is difficult.  However, I would be remiss if I failed to celebrate the small successes of the past few days.   So here begins my celebration!

Yesterday I had extra pieces of pie crust dough in a bowl on the counter.  Timothy wanted to play with it, and I let him.   I told him he could play with it if he stayed at the table.  The next thing I knew he had the dough and my rolling pin and he was trying to roll it out like he had seen me doing earlier.   He was imitating my behavior.  I will celebrate positive imitation.

He also used the beans I had used to weigh down the crust when I baked it earlier.  I let him play with the beans.  I knew they would likely get all over.  But if the dough and the beans were the worst that would get all over, I was willing to deal with the mess.

I generally hate the messes.   I get so stressed with kid messes.   But this time was different.  Timothy was actually entertaining himself.   He found the dough and the beans on his own.  He figured out what he needed to do with the rolling pin and the dough.   He was playing nicely with Emma who had decided she wanted in on his fun.   They worked together for quite some time without fighting.  

Yes, there was a mess on the table and on the floor around the table when they were done.  But I looked the other way and I choose to celebrate the small successes of positive behavior.

Then we headed to my dad's house for dinner.  Generally we have a difficult time getting Timothy to sit still long enough to eat a good dinner.  And if he does eat he is so squirmy in his seat.  Yesterday he sat quietly eating his dinner.  It wasn't until someone noticed he wasn't eating his potatoes "properly" that he started having issues.

Yes, he was picking at his potatoes, but he will not eat potato skins and he was so full that he really didn't want any more of his dinner.   Yes, he had started playing with his food, but he was sitting quietly, he wasn't underneath the table stomping on our feet.  But once again I am chose to look the other way and I choose to celebrate the small successes.  He was in his chair for about half an hour.  What more can I really ask of a child who generally does not do this?  

More small successes:

He allowed us to help him get dressed quickly yesterday morning.   Yes, it took quite a few times reminding him what he needed to do, but he got it done.  Breakfast went smoothly.  He ate breakfast without teasing the dog, without teasing Micah, and without spilling milk all over.

When we first got to church, the worst he did was run to the front and run around the choir seats.   He then lost the privilege to decide which parent he would sit by in Sacrament meeting.  He was mad at me, but he did sit quietly next to me until the sacrament had been passed.  Then I allowed him to sit by John as that is what he wanted to begin with.  He quietly colored pictures without fighting and without trying to climb underneath the pews.  He did not sit in his seat the entire time, and he was not perfectly quiet.   He wanted to talk about his picture.   But he wasn't screaming, hitting, biting, kicking, etc.  I choose to celebrate the fact that we got through sacrament meeting without a major all out meltdown.

In Primary, the worst he did was to throw his shoes at one of the girls in his class.  This is a far cry from the hitting and the biting and the running away.  Yes, I do not appreciate the shoe throwing, but I choose to celebrate the fact that his behavior in Primary is starting to improve.

This morning we were waiting for his ride to preschool to get here.   He sat through the story Micah choose and then we read one of Timothy's choice.   Then it was time for Timothy to find his backpack and something for show and tell.  He quickly found something to take and he put it in his backpack quickly.   When his ride got here, he went to the door and told me she was here, he walked out and said "Bye mom."   Such a sweet boy.  He generally doesn't acknowledge me when he leaves.    So I will celebrate the morning of stories and positive behavior again.

So in the grand scheme of things, has my child's behavior changed drastically?  No.  But in our moment to moment life, I am finding myself more capable of finding the positives and the negatives aren't so overwhelming.   I am finding positive moments to focus on when I need help during those moments of pure chaos.  

ADHD and my child

Nothing has ever made me want to be a recluse more than having a child with ADHD.   I hate that feeling that every eye is turned on me.  At times it is embarrassing that others have to see the meltdowns over which shopping cart to get, or having the wrong color crayon at the restaurant because he dropped the blue one and only the orange one is available.  Most times these meltdowns include full on screaming, crying, kicking, and flailing around.  Yep, embarrassing.

Somehow this word just does not fully encompass the feelings when I become the subject of others demeaning stares.   I loathe being the subject of negative attention.   Sometimes I find myself so frustrated that I just want to give up.  Unfortunately for me I cannot completely avoid going out in public with my child.  I have things that need to get done, and after 7 p.m. just is not feasible all the time.    

The problem is I wasn't ready.   When the psychologist started mentioning ADHD I first thought this could not be my child, that she had it wrong.  But a lot of the signs are there.  I can't ignore what I see on a daily basis.  We agreed to try behavior modification therapy because, frankly, the idea of medicating my child at such a young age is very frightening to me.   Plus there is still a part of me that wants to believe he will grow out of some of this.  It has to be his age, right?  But I am still very conflicted about this issue.  But, in saying this, I don't need people to tell me I've made the wrong decision.  I'm already doing enough of that myself.  

Behavior modification is a lot of work and it requires a change in how my family functions.  We need to have more structure at home, and provide more activities for this child as his attention span is very, very low.   I struggle with this.  I have to be more vigilant and consistent with everything; mealtime, bedtime, wake up time, etc.  This also requires everybody in the family to be on the same page and willing to help out with this.  

Behavior modification also requires a lot more attention given to one child, making the other children feel as if they are being neglected.  If my attention is diverted elsewhere such as to help the girls with homework, disaster awaits.  Many times we have found a runaway child.  I think my neighbors get tired of helping me look for my child yet there are those few that are always looking out for my children and drop everything else to help me look for my child.  I am grateful for those neighbors.

In addition to behavior modification, the psychologist said he would need speech therapy.  She said it was common in children with ADHD.  Their minds are going so fast that they can't stop long enough to grasp the full intricacies of language.  I had known that the school district provides speech therapy but frankly, I was a little hesitant to go that route.  I had heard stories of parents trying to get their children into speech therapy only to be denied time and time again.  I did not feel my son's speech was that bad.   Wasn't his delay just due to age?  

During this whole process I had also been reading multiple things about ADHD and how to help a child with ADHD.   I looked online, borrowed books from the library, talked with others who have children with ADHD.   I still could not accept the fact that we had a correct diagnosis.  But the indicators of  ADHD were still there.  I found myself not understanding what was happening.  I did what I thought was right for my child, but then I second guessed my decisions.

This is what happened when I had him tested and considered for special education through the school district.  At first I thought it was just for speech.  Then we went to the appointment.  They evaluated his speech, and his behavior.  They qualified him for special education right away.  Usually they wait to give a decision, but the evaluator said she was confident he would benefit from services.   Okay, so he can get speech therapy then.   I was thinking he would just go in a couple of times a week, meet with a speech therapist and we would go our merry way until he started kindergarten next year.

Oh no.   It was not to be that simple.  He would have to attend the district preschool and we would have to develop an IEP (Individual Education Plan).  Ummm, okay, but we already enrolled him in a private preschool that seems to fit his needs better than anything else we have found.  He was starting to thrive in that preschool.  To take him out now was very upsetting to me.  One of the biggest things I have read about ADHD is that change is difficult.  I did not want to deal with the increased tantrums and misbehavior because of something I felt I could control.

At that point I did not want to create the IEP.  I wanted to just keep going with the things we had set up already.   Were we doing the right thing for my child?  After much prayer and consideration, John and I decided that we would put him in the district preschool, but we would only do two days instead of the four they recommended.  I know it was frustrating to the special education administrators, but I just did not feel the district preschool was the right answer for my child.

So here I sit, still wondering if this is the right solution, the right avenue we should be pursuing.  There are still so many questions that I don't quite know how to ask.  How do I adequately present my feelings to somebody who is so clinical and scientific?  A lot of times I feel like I'm just complaining and it really isn't that bad.

I wonder if it was the right thing to take him in to the psychologist and to answer the questionnaire the way I did.   Were my answers just the result of being overly frustrated with an active child? I don't really know.  But at this point, I have to learn to accept what is happening and roll with the punches, so to speak.

Things I've learned

After 7 years of serving in the Young Women program at church, four of those serving as the president, I was released last month.  I knew it was going to happen yet there is no amount of preparation for the loss I feel.  The young women have been an extension of my family for so long.  My own children have grown up with my summers being full of youth conference and girls camp.  This is all they have known.   But at the same time I am excited for a change, for a new adventure, wherever that takes me now.

A  member of the Bishopric asked me what I have learned in the years I've been Young Women President.  At the time, being put on the spot and all, I couldn't come up with anything profound.   The question has been on my mind since then.   Humor me a bit as I try to answer this question now.  This list will not be all inclusive as there are many things that I cannot articulate effectively here.

Things I have learned during my sojourn in Young Women

1.  Sometimes plans A,B, and C don't work out.  I had better have a plan X,Y, and Z.   The best laid plans are often derailed by equipment failures, lack of attendance, forgetful minds, and the list goes on.  But the success of an activity or program involving the youth can never rest on only one plan.  

2.  What I think are my goals and plans are not always consistent with the goals and plans of the Lord.  So many times I have tried to do an activity that didn't work out.  A lot of times we started an activity only to change direction midway through.  I often had ideas of what to do, but more often, those ideas did not work.   Sometimes I found that a major program did not fall into place until the week, or even the day before the program.  

3.  I butt heads with other people a lot.  When others try to take over and override my authority, that does not sit well with me.  When I say something, I mean it and I do not like when others ignore what I have said and do it their way anyway.  

4.  I do not enjoy meetings.

5.  I have a love for the Young Women that I never imagined I could have.

6.  The Young Women are amazing, and such great examples to me.

7.  I had to be strong in my convictions so I could be an example to the Young Women.  

8.  I probably shouldn't admit I had favorites, but my favorites were always the most unlikely of the bunch.  There were some I just felt much more connected to.

9.  It is okay to go about doing good without being in the spotlight.

10.  It is okay to put aside my personal desires and follow the counsel of others.   There are so many times I felt that what I wanted to happen was so important.  What I wanted was more important than what others wanted.  Ultimately we had similar goals, but the means to get to the end result was different.  The fight for my way was not worth it.  Every person was important to the success of Young Women.  

11.  My own testimony is stronger and I am more secure in my beliefs.

12.  I have an amazing husband who has supported me in all my craziness.  He watches the kids so I can attend activities.  He takes care of multiple things at home so I can be gone often.  I've often said that a calling in the Young Women is a full time job.  At times I feel I was away from home and my family more often than not.  But my husband is a trooper.   He has been there through it all, even when it wasn't the easy thing to do.  

13.  I can do hard things.  

14.  I am a daughter of God.  He loves me, and always will.  Okay, so I knew this already, but there is something about being a leader and watching the Young Women struggle and keep going that cements this in my heart.  

15.  The tender mercies of the Lord abound each and every day.   I just have to be aware enough to recognize these tender mercies.   The Lord has sustained me each and every day, even when I wonder how I can keep going.

16.  I don't have to be perfect to be an effective leader.

17.  I may never know the impact I have had on any of these young women.  I may never know if anything I said or did will stick with them.  But that is okay.  I'm at peace with that.  

Small steps!

Yay for small steps!  Remember a couple of posts back where I talked about teaching my son sign language?  I was hopeful he would start talking then.  It appears my hopes were not in vain.   He has started saying mama, dada, baby, and me on a regular basis.  He also says the girls' names and loves to walk around saying their names over and over.  He still uses sign language when he can't figure out how to say the word he needs, but I am so very grateful.  We often find him saying mama at the same time he is signing, just as he has seen us do. 
He has started copying words we say.  He will copy one word at a time.  The girls get a kick out of trying to get him to say "I love you."  He has such a sense of humor that he will say "I love me!"  He knows he is being funny and we all love it.   Now that he is willing to try he is learning fast and his speech is developing quickly.  

False sense of security

You know those vehicles that have back up sensors that tell you when you are going to run into something?  Yeah, I have one of those.  I think those back up sensors have lulled me into a false sense of security.   You see, these sensors are only work when the object is is direct line with the sensor and is tall enough for the sensor to detect.
So today, my son left his brother's scooter behind the Tahoe.  But the handle was resting on the side of the vehicle.  I failed to check behind the Tahoe because I only had one child at home and I had followed him around the front of the vehicle so I would know where he is.   Okay, fast forward.  Child buckled in, check.  Garage door open, check.  I start to back up, until I feel the Tahoe get stuck on something and hear a sickening crack!  Ugh.  I knew it was bound to happen.  You guessed it, the scooter is no longer in a workable condition.  I threw it out of my way and went on my merry way to pick up my other son from preschool.   He still hasn't figured out his scooter is broken and I'm thinking I don't want to tell him.   I'm not ready for the breakdown that is sure to happen as he is in a very good mood right now. 
So, in light of this happening, I realized that these back up sensors have become a bad thing in a way.  I find that, like today, I do not always check behind me, especially when backing out of my own garage/driveway.  After all, the sensors should warn me if I'm going to run into a child, right?  Maybe not.  What if there is a child sitting in my driveway, or in my garage, right behind my vehice?  What if a child is not tall enough to be detected by the sensors?   It is no wonder so many children get run over in their own driveways.  Not only are children careless around vehicles, there are parents, me included, that have been lulled into a false sense of security.  With all of the etra security measures included with vehicles nowadays, more people, such as me, are less vigilant about checking the perimeter and  trusting that the vehicle safety equipment will do our job for us. 
This is a reminder to me that I need to be more vigilant.  I usually know where my own children are, but I do not want the fate of my son's scooter to inadvertently happen to a child. 

Baby sign language

Dear family, friends, and anyone else who cares enough to read this post:

I have a 2 1/2 year old child who does not talk yet.  John and I decided we would teach him sign language so we could communicate with him.   We researched baby sign language.  I didn't know much sign language.  But I knew we needed to do something to lower our frustration levels at not being able to communicate.
Some of you may worry that he will never talk.  I have full confidence that he will use verbal language.  But what if, despite all the research, he never talks?

This is a question that we have visited more than once.  This is a question that I don't want to think about, but is a concern.  I'm not concerned for me and my own children.  All of us have embraced the sign language and even my 4 year old can communicate with the 2 year old.  I thank the Lord every day for these tender mercies.  So my concern lies with those around me who are unwilling to learn the simple signs my son uses.

Frustration should not need to reign.  I am willing to interpret when I'm around, and I'm willing to teach you the signs he knows.  Don't worry about always getting it right.  I don't always get it right.  Sometimes I ask him multiple times to repeat so I can figure it out.  A lot of his conversations depend on the context.  Some days he will be playing with the dog and will tell me the dog licked his face.  Then he'll go back for more.  He'll come back to me signing "more."  So I then ask, "oh, did Angel lick your face more?"  As he shakes his head yes, I know we both understood each other.  It is pure joy to know we have that ability to communicate with each other.

I can't say it is easy.  I can't say that we picked it up fast.  My other children picked it up faster than me and they have taught me in the process.  I have learned that I have the capacity to do this.  I just have to be willing to try.  I want everyone who interacts with my son to know the joy of understanding his language.  Please learn with him and support him in his efforts to communicate with you.  Just because he doesn't talk doesn't mean there is anything wrong with him.  He's just taking his time and enjoying the ride.

Long story short, we will continue working with him and using sign language.  It is an effective method of communication and he enjoys being understood.  My desire is that all those around us will take the time to understand him too and experience the joy I have felt being able to communicate with my son.

With love,

Jessica

Migraines and flying do not mix

Migraines have become another part of my day so I didn't think much about it when I felt one coming on after I had arrived at the airport.  I was a little nervous about the pressure changes, but the only thought I had was of the increase in pain.   Maybe I should have done a little more research and made sure I had the right meds with me.  Here's my story.

When we landed in Denver I knew I was in trouble.  The migraine was ten times worse than when I started and I could not walk straight.   I thought I would be okay.   All of a sudden I knew I needed to get to the restroom, if anything just to sit down for a minute and find a something to put on the back of my head.   I didn’t make it.   I lost it about twenty feet from the women’s restroom.   I stopped, looked around, and thought, oh no, this is not supposed to be happening to me, what now?  So I continued on my short trek to the restroom. 

As luck would have it, there was a line of about five women for the toilets.      So I said out loud, oh crap, there’s a line.  By this time I had puke in one hand, puke down the front of my shirt, and puke down the leg of my pants, plus the grossness all over my carry on.   Most of the women in line just ignored me except the lady second in line.  She took one look at me and asked if I needed help.  She took me to the sinks and made sure I had what I needed. 

I remember being worried about missing my next flight and worried that Greg was going to miss the flight.  But I needed him to wait for me so I didn’t have to do this alone.   Oh, it was awful.  I was praying.  Asking for help to make it to that next flight, to get some help to make it to where I needed to be. 

Then another lady came over to me and stayed with me, getting me paper towels to wet my face and to clean up a bit.   She stayed with me for ten to fifteen minutes making sure I was alright.   She was a perfect stranger and was very worried about me.  It was so nice to have someone be worried about me and to help me at that point. 

I stayed in the restroom until my headache subsided, or more specifically until after the paramedic came to check me out.   At this point I was more embarrassed than sick.   I had never been so sick in public before.  And I was worried about not making the next flight.  I needed to be on that next flight.  I was still praying because that was the only thing I knew to do at the moment.

Here’s where there was another angel.  There were two customer service people there.  The older one did not want to let me get on the next flight.  She was all for rescheduling me on the next flight out the next morning.   The younger CSR asked if I thought I could make it to the flight.   I said yes and off we went. 

The younger CSR was an angel.  She did everything she could to get us on that flight.  We pretty much booked it.  I don’t really know logically how I made it.  All I know is that my prayers were being answered at this moment. The CSR was on her CB with the gate attendants telling them where we were.  We made it, they let us on the plane, and we were on our way. 

 I didn’t have any more major problems.  I was just plain exhausted by the time we got to Oklahoma City.  

We got checked into the hotel, and I pretty much went straight to bed.  Greg wouldn’t even let me consider going with him back to the airport to pick up my dad who was supposed to get in an hour later.   He knew I wasn’t feeling good and he wasn’t going to let me put my health on hold just to accompany him to the airport.   He said he had GPS so he wouldn’t get lost.   So I stayed at the hotel, climbed into bed, and slept.   

Two days later we were flying home.   This time I was prepared with Dramamine, which I had never used before.  I was praying that it would work because I could not get the headache under control.   I took it an hour before take off.   By the time we boarded I was so drowsy I did not know what was going on.  I got in my seat, Greg said something that I can’t remember, and then I was asleep.  I don’t remember take off.   I don’t remember a whole lot.   What I do remember convinces me that Dramamine makes me loopy.

At one point I remember hearing one of the little kids a couple of rows behind me talking.   It sounded like this kid was singing the song for the ringtone I have on my phone for John.   I remember thinking, oh crap, I thought I turned my phone off, now John is calling me and it is going to cause something to go awry and this flight is going to crash or something.  

 A little while later I remember the flight attendant tapping me on the shoulder and saying I needed to put my seat back up straight to prepare for landing.  

Then I remember hearing the men talking in the row in front of me.   It sounded like Greg was talking to the guy about engineering stuff.   I remember thinking, how come Greg is talking to the guy in front of me?  How did he get up there?   I was so confused.   But no, Greg was always in the seat next to me and he was not talking engineering with the guy in front of me.     

I was so out of it.  But I slept the entire flight, or was just out of it enough that I didn’t know what was going on.  I still had an enormous headache when we got off the plane, but I didn’t puke this time.   I could have gotten sick and not had to worry about missing the connecting flight seeing as we had a 3 ½ hour layover.    We ended up flying out of the same gate we had flown into two days before.

I visited the same restroom I had spent so many miserable moments in days earlier.  For some reason it looked different.  I didn’t remember it being so big.       

I took another Dramamine before the next flight into Salt Lake City.   But I didn’t sleep this time.  That is okay because I had a good conversation with the lady next to me.   We talked for about half the flight and then Greg and I tried to finish the movie we had started in the airport. 

Greg said he has learned to never fly with me.   I don’t blame him.   If you really want to know what was happening, you will need to ask him for his side of this story.   It is amusing, but I can’t remember all the details of what he shared with me.   I will probably get his side of the story wrong.