The most difficult thing

The most difficult thing for me is to see my child as he is, not as I wish he was.   You see, before I started having children I had dreams and visions of what my children would be like.  My children would be respectful, smart, well behaved, musical, etc., etc., etc.   My oldest child seemed to be everything I dreamed of.  She is well behaved, musical, smart, etc., etc., etc.   She learned quickly to obey the rules.  I did not, and still do not, have much trouble with her.  She is responsible and trustworthy.  
But then I got to my third child, my first boy.   Everybody told me boys were different, they were more rambunctious, they had more energy.   So I was prepared for high energy.  I knew things would be different at my house.  But still I had dreams and aspirations for my child.  I still dreamed of a boy who learned to be respectful, follow the rules, and channel his energy into something productive.   Those dreams seemed to shatter as time went on.  As he got older the energy did not slow down.   The lessons on respect were not sinking in.   He was very impulsive and did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.  I had bottles of syrup, bags of flour, boxes of baking soda and baking powder dumped all over my floor.  My carpets were colored with food coloring.  
It has been just over 2 years since the original diagnosis, and just under 2 years with medication.   I still struggle.  There are things I know will not change.  So at this point the most difficult thing is to love him as he is instead of as I hope him to be.   I know I am far from perfect in this.   I have to work on this minute to minute.  When he doesn't respond the way I want him to I need to remind myself the most important thing is love.

DIY Laundry Soap

My friend, Cynthia came to visit awhile ago and she brought with her a recipe for laundry soap.  Even though I had seen multiple posts floating around Facebook about DIY laundry soap I never truly considered it before.  I had seen multiple recipes and some even for liquid laundry soap.   When Cynthia asked me if I wanted to do this, I was a little skeptical.

Despite my skepticism I was up for the challenge.  I was ready for  the long list of ingredients we would need and the difficult instructions for putting it all together.  I was pleasantly surprised to find out that this DIY laundry soap only needed four ingredients.   Plus, it sounded simple to put together.  

So we sent John to the store to gather the ingredients for us.   When John brought the ingredients home, I quickly realized the container I was planning to use was not going to be sufficient.  So I found an empty food storage bucket.    This actually worked very well.  

Here is the recipe we used.

1 box cleaning baking soda
1 box borax
1 small container oxi clean
2 bars fels naptha soap

I cannot for the life of me remember the size of the boxes.  I know what each one looks like and I know where to find it.   The hardest part of making this laundry soap was grating the fels naptha soap.  I just used my cheese grater.  After all, it is just soap and with a little water, and a run through the dishwasher my cheese grater was very clean.

It was very simple to put this all together. We emptied all contents from each of the boxes into the bucket.   We grated the fels naptha and added that to the bucket.  Then we picked up the bucket and shook it.   We shook the bucket until all ingredients were well  mixed.  It was so easy.   It only took about 5 minutes max from start to finish, not including time to get the ingredients.  

I have to say I was still a little skeptical about this soap.  But I tried it.   My white clothes came out brighter.   I didn't have any allergic reactions.   I have a large family which means we do a lot of laundry.  This concoction lasted far longer than any store bought laundry soap thus making it a cheaper option than store bought laundry soap.

Yes, I am that parent . . .

I am that mother who . . .

-- turns a blind eye to poor behavior from my children.  (It is a pick your battle thing.  What am I willing to fight over each day?)
-- laughs quietly sometimes when my children misbehave, and then scolds.  (especially when my car gets painted yellow, and my child walks through the paint leaving footprints all over my driveway)
-- waits for a child to return before rushing out the door after him.
-- allows a child to learn the hard lessons in life on his/her own.
-- allows my child to fall asleep wherever they desire, even if it is the closet.  (Yes, I have children that have chosen to sleep in the closet rather than their bed.)
-- allows my child to run around in underwear instead of fighting him to get dressed.
-- allows another child to go places with unruly, unbrushed hair.
-- chooses to stay home rather than let my children terrorize another home.
-- gives my children everything they could want, even if it means picking up the 18 month old when he cries, hugging and kissing the 11 yo, or just spending time with the children.  (My children need to know I am here for them, and they get that reassurance often.)
-- allows my children watch TV so I can get a few moments to myself to regroup.  (PBS and Netflix are great things in my home)
-- makes my children finish their chores before going out to play (though chores are minimal each day and tailored to each child's ability)
-- allows my children to walk down the street on their own.  
-- allows my children to bake cookies on their own.  (Messes ensue, but I survive the mess somehow)
-- allows my children to develop new talents on their own schedule.  (I cannot force them, as much as I want to.  They need to decide when and how they will learn)
-- enjoys the quiet hours with the moon after the children are all in bed and asleep.

What ADHD means at my house

What ADHD means at my house is not necessarily what it means at another house.  I wholly believe each child is different and all family dynamics are different.    

So here is what ADHD means at my house.

When I clean it is in vain.  It will be undone in 2 seconds flat.
I have two 4yo boys, or so it seems.  The 4yo and 6yo act almost exactly alike.
Things take longer to get done at my house.   My 6yo doesn't seem to want to help and my 9yo gets distracted way too easily by other things.
Organization is not possible in the common areas of my home.
We still have fun.
We still get things done.  (Just not in the time frame others think it should be done.)
We have a different way of dealing with our children than others expect.   This includes turning a blind eye to some behaviors and focusing on others.
Just because my house is an utter disaster right now doesn't mean it is always like this.  We do have a few days (few and far between) where the house is actually clean and presentable.

Now that I have described what ADHD means at my house, I am going to share some pictures to better help explain ADHD at my house.

1.  ADHD at my house means my kitchen table looks like this more often than not.   I leave the room and things get spilled, dumped, and thrown around.   Don't even ask about the kitchen floor.   It is awful.  

 2.  ADHD at my house means that when I pick up movies and put them away it is a mecca for pulling things out and scattering them all over the floor.   Organization is not possible in the common areas of my house.   I try.   But it ends up like this in 2 seconds flat as soon as it is all put away.

 3.   ADHD at my house means books are put on the bookshelf, but the books that don't fit are stuck in a huge pile at the bottom of the bookshelf.  Of course, they don't fit if there is already one or two books on the bookshelf.  

Don't judge me or my children by the state of our house.   I try to keep up, I really do.  Sometimes I am just so overwhelmed with the amount of stuff I need to pick up because my children won't.  Just because the house is a  mess does not mean my children don't help.    Try living with children with ADHD before you judge the state of my house.  

So, ADHD at my house also means it takes longer for  my children to learn the necessary life skills they will need such as cleaning up after themselves.   It is a work in progress.  But we still have a long way to go.

But ADHD at my house also means there is a lot of energy in my home.   There is no lack of laughter, fighting, and noise.   We have fun.   My children act like normal siblings, they get along one moment and are fighting the next.    ADHD at my house means we will never have a spotless home.   But it also means there is no end to the love that we share.  

I will continue to teach my children acceptable behavior.  It will take them longer than you expect for them to catch on.   Understand that ADHD at my house may not mean what you want it to mean.   Be patient with us as we learn with our children what it means to live with ADHD.    We don't have all the answers.   Most of it is trial and error.   Once I feel I have a handle on it, everything changes again.  

Now, be patient with my children because they don't do what you expect children should do.  My children are still children and do not think like an adult.   This is a hard concept for me.   I struggle daily.   But I have more patience than I did six months ago with my children.   Work with my children, don't judge them.   Be kind to my children instead of being angry when they don't meet your expectations.

I used to think I would be able to teach my children, they would understand, and they would follow what they were taught.  Then I was blessed with two children with ADHD and my whole life and perspective changed.

ADHD, depression, and more

Just a little under a year ago I was diagnosed with severe Postpartum depression.  I laughed it off at first.  I said, this is my fifth child, this is silly.  I can't have postpartum depression.   But all the signs were there.  I had difficulty sleeping, I felt my world was very dark.  Then my midwife put me on an antidepressant.   My world suddenly brightened.  I wondered why it had taken so long to get help.   

Now, almost a year later I am better able to assess what is and has been happening.   I realize now that this depression had started long before I was even pregnant this last time.   There was so much going on and I was so overwhelmed.  I did not know how to take care of new kinks in life and I could not see the bright side of things.  I could only see the doom.  I wanted to cry a lot.   Worst of all was I felt alone.   I didn't feel people wanted to hear about my struggles, so I silently went about life, trying to keep my head above water.  

You see, my son was diagnosed with ADHD and my world turned upside down.  Soon after his diagnosis we were learning a whole new way, a whole new structure to life.   Suddenly my life went from unscheduled, fly by the seat of my pants to schedule, schedule, schedule.   I was learning a whole new way of asking my son to do things.  The things I thought I knew about teaching children to be positive influences in society were suddenly ineffective.

Okay, so these ideas had already become ineffective in my life, I just wasn't ready to admit it.  I wanted so much to be able to keep everything in the mold I had created.  I had an idea of how life should and would be for my family.   Dealing with ADHD was not in the cards.   This time is when my world started going dark.   I was having difficultly implementing the behavior modification the psychologist was teaching us about.   I was having difficulty with guilt about something I felt I should have done differently.    I felt extreme guilt over how I had previously reacted to my son's various antics.   Then I went through a period of guilt over our decision to try medication.    

In the middle of all of this, I found out I was pregnant with my fifth child.   I was so overwhelmed with life that I could not be excited about this child.  I went through the motions, going to all of my appointments.   Late in my pregnancy I was hospitalized for the flu and I found myself unable to shake the depression that was really settling in.   I felt God had abandoned me at that point.  I was convinced that this illness and hospital stay was some form of punishment for something but I didn't know for what.   

My due date was March 16th.  I really expected early labor because my four prior children had all come early.   I had a lot of false labor this time.   The braxton hicks contractions were so strong and close together.  March 16th came and I knew my baby would not be coming that day.  I was so frustrated.    When contractions started later that night I waited a long time before acknowledging this was the real thing.   So we had our son on the 17th in the wee hours of the morning.   After he came I felt great for quite some time.   I went to my six week check up with the midwife and I felt on top of the world.   

Shortly after that appointment I knew things were not right but I refused to admit I was having difficulty.  Friends would visit with me and I would smile and say everything was alright.   I had wanted to do fun things that summer but I lost all motivation.  I lost my zeal for life.   School was back in session before I knew it.   My son with ADHD was now in Kindergarten, I was supposed to be helping with PTA, and I was struggling just to get out of bed in the morning.   My oldest daughter was trying to help but that was a lot to ask of her.  I felt extreme guilt for the way I felt.   At some point during all of this I had seen something about postpartum depression and I looked at the general information with signs and symptoms.   Then I made an appointment with my midwife. 

Anti depressants soon became my friend and my world ceased to be dark.  I started to see the good around me. I started to be able to more fully participate in my children's lives.   I gave up PTA responsibilities, I gave up helping in my children's classrooms.   I gave up work that I wanted so I could concentrate on me and my family.   Then I asked for help.   My step mom stepped up and started taking my children two afternoons a week as the doctor ordered.   During this kid free time I was free to do whatever I wanted to do.   This kid free time was not clean the house time.  It was time for me to rejuvenate and breathe.   

Now that life seems more stable, I have come to a few realizations.   

1.  I have been focusing on my son's behavior more than my own.  I need to figure myself out before I can fully help him.  I need to be his anchor,  his example.  I can't be that if my behavior at times is unacceptable.

2.  The Lord works in mysterious ways.   Despite the darkness I faced, I have been greatly blessed. I cannot fully comprehend the many ways I have been blessed through these many trials, but I do know the Lord has sustained me through it all and continues to guide me through the difficult times.

3.  I can do hard things but sometimes I need help.  There are people willing to help, I need to let them help.   I do not need to walk alone through the muck.

So, really, there isn't much to this story I haven't previously shared, except that I know I have been blessed.  I see things in a different perspective now.  I am not grateful for depression itself, nor for ADHD in a child, but I am grateful for what I have learned.   

POstpartum depression?

I really thought I was doing okay.   After six weeks I was feeling good.  Yes, I was exhausted but I chalked that up to a baby that wasn't sleeping very well, hence no sleep for me.   I felt I was doing better than I had for quite some time and better than I had after most of my babies.   I wasn't worried about how I felt.  At 6 weeks postpartum I really did feel great.

Now, nearly 6 months later my baby sleeps through the night and I should be feeling better as I get more sleep.   What, there is a better?  Oh, this thing called postpartum depression can affect a person even after five kids? Shouldn't I be able to handle this better by now?  

I don't have a problem bonding with my baby or with wanting to hurt myself or the baby.   But I do have fears that something will happen to the baby or one of the other children.   Just today my kids were playing in the front yard.  I thought "I need to get them inside.  Otherwise they will get under the neighbors cars and get squished when the neighbors don't know the kids are under there."   Pretty rational, right?   

Or there are the nights I sit in bed worrying that the baby is suffocating in the blanket he was tightly swaddled in. Really?   I'm losing sleep over this a lot.   

So as I started looking into it more I am reminded there is much more than just thoughts of hurting myself or the baby..   But even now I don't feel as if all the symptoms fully describe me, but I found that many do.  Warning: if you don't want to know details, stop reading here. 

Here's me after six months in relation to Postpartum Depression.

Loss of appetite-  Yes and no.   I have an appetite, just for the wrong kind of foods.   Honestly I could live off fast food at this moment because I don't have to cook  it, I don't have to plan it, and I don't have to think much about it.  Some days I cook dinner knowing the kids need to eat.   Yet I sit and look at it and I am disgusted with what I cook.   I don't know how my kids can eat something so gross.   Yet it something as simple as spaghetti or enchiladas.

Insomnia-  Most nights I am so exhausted yet I lay there wondering when I will get to a deep sleep.   I toss and turn for a good portion of the night.  I find my mind won't shut down. I have so many things keeping me awake.    Most nights I end up on the couch so as to not keep my husband up all night long.   I have taken to talking in my so called insomnia state.  I can't say talking in my sleep because I am well aware I am talking to myself.   Usually I will fall asleep around three or four in the morning only to be woken up at 5ish, either by the baby or by the alarm.

Intense irritability and anger- I feel very irritable.   The smallest things set me off.   I feel like I am an angry person lately.   It isn't that I want to be angry, I don't even really know why I'm angry.   I can be just fine one moment.  Then all of a sudden a switch is thrown in my head and I am so angry,    It is truly the simple things that can set me off.  Somebody didn't do the dishes, a toy was left out, somebody didn't turn off a light. There is no moderate anger here.   I feel so angry that I want to cry because I'm so angry.    I know, it really doesn't make sense to me either.

Overwhelming fatigue-  Yes, this is me to a T.   I am so tired all the time.  I can get a lot of sleep and still be dragging my feet the next day.  I do not have the energy I need.  I feel like I need to nap all the time.  I have a difficult time getting things done because I am so tired all the time.  

Loss of interest in sex-  I don't know if it is a loss of interest, but I am so incredibly exhausted I just can't think about it.    I am exhausted at night, exhausted in the morning, exhausted in the middle of the day.  I feel so exhausted that I don't have any more to give.   I am falling into bed at night not wanting to move.   Doesn't bode well for this aspect of life.  

Lack of joy in life-  Oh goodness, where do I start with this one?   It is difficult to find joy.  I feel so out of sorts all the time.  I also feel like I am the only one trying to keep my household running smoothly.   I have a difficult time keeping up with things.  My kids started school and I am unable to keep up with their homework, especially for my kindergartner.  

Feelings of shame, guilt or inadequacy- I constantly feel inadequate.    I have a difficult time keeping up with and taking care of the children.  Other people say things to me and I feel very awful all the time.  There was a dad who told me off in the library.  Ugh, way to help a mom who is struggling to keep it together already.  I feel extremely guilty that I can't take care of the simple things in life.   I can't keep my house clean.   I can't keep up with laundry.   I don't always keep up with the grocery shopping either.  

Severe mood swings-  Yes, yes, and yes.   I can be laughing one moment, yelling at everybody the next moment, and crying the next.    I do not feel in control of my feelings right now.     I have intense mood swings.   And these mood swings are triggered by the simplest things.

Difficulty bonding with your baby-  I have not had a problem bonding with my baby.    

Withdrawal from family and friends-  There are times when it is difficult to get out with people.   Just the thought of trying to be pleasant is too much.    And it is difficult for me to keep a handle on everything going on with five kids that I would much rather stay in my home.   I have gone out with people, but it feels like such a chore sometimes.  Some days I just want to curl up in bed and never get out.

Thoughts of harming yourself or your baby-   No, I do not have these thoughts.   I just have irrational fears that something is going to happen to one of the children.   I fear that my children aren't making it to school, but I feel powerless to check up on them.  I fear I will lose my children in the store.

Add to all this two children who have ADHD.   And add a husband who still struggles with PTSD.   Then you will know that most days I really struggle to keep everything together.    This is part of the reason I have gotten locked out of my house twice in the past week.   This is also the reason that my ten year old daughter was getting breakfast for everybody during the summer.   

So, maybe I need help.    I feel a little silly talking to someone,  my problems seem so silly and petty.   Please, I just ask that people be patient with me.  I recognize that I am struggling.  I do not need to be reminded at every turn.  i just need to know there are people who support me and will help me through this.  I hate feeling this way and I hate that I feel powerless to change things.

It really would have been easier to just help out!

I know I've already been the rounds on this issue, but I need another outlet.  So here you go. 

The trip started out as a normal outing for my family.   Emma couldn't find her shoes until we were mostly out the door threatening to leave her at home if she didn't get shoes on.   Timothy and Emma were fighting the whole 2 minutes it took to get to the library.   Amber was throwing a fit because I threatened to turn around and go home without getting their free books.   So already this was not looking good.  

We finally got into the library.   Timothy and Micah were running all over.  I had to yell at Micah to come back.  The librarian said I should use my library voice.    Oops, sorry.  I couldn't just leave in the middle of what I was doing.   Ugh.  I sent Amber to get Micah, he wouldn't come.  I told her to just drag him to me because she's not strong enough to pick him up.  Another librarian reprimanded her for being mean to her brother (doing what she was told!) and told her to leave him alone.   Ugh.  

For the summer, the library has had a program where children can read off their fines, $1 for every 30 minutes of reading.  I had two children to set up with that and the librarian was very slow.  Ugh. 

Then those two children needed to stay in the library to read.  And whose bright idea was this?  Oh right, mine!  So Timothy had found an open computer and thought he could play.  As I walked past him with the baby in my arms and Micah in tow, I motioned to him and said "Come on! You need to come read now!" 

As a quick aside (hopefully), Timothy has ADHD.  We have been unable to use the indirect, passive requests with him.   He does not respond to "Will you please come sit with me and we will read."   We have to be direct.  "Come here and read now."  So I know it sounds mean, but we have been working with a psychologist to help him and our family.  This is what she has told us to do with him.

Back to my story.   Did I mention that I took all five children with me, by myself?   And that two of my children have ADHD?  Oh I am such a glutton for punishment sometimes.  So I have to constantly remind Timothy he is supposed to be reading and that he is being noisy.   I also have to tell Micah to stay with me because I don't want him running around anymore.   I told him to sit by me.   Well, a 3 yo does not sit very well.   I had to tell Amber to find a book, sit, and read.   Then I had to tell Timothy to leave Amber alone so she could read.  Oh, did I mention that Timothy needed redirection constantly?   He has an inabililty to sit quietly and only read for 1/2 hour.    This is part of his ADHD.   So yes, to a casual obsesrver, maybe I was a little harsh.

Then they wanted to get movies.  Movies from the library are the reason we have fines.  Plus my children do not put the movies away and they get left on the floor.   I hate getting movies from the library.  I was not willing to do that.   So I said no.   Then Timothy asked again.  I said no again.  Not even five minutes later Timothy was asking for a movie again.  I was getting a little exasperated with his requests.  I had just said no.   If he would just listen to me.  Oh how I wish sometimes!

But when another dad, who only had one young child in his arms, came to me and told me to stop yelling at my kids, I told him he needed to mind his own business.  I was already flustered because the librarian had said I was too loud, but then another parent criticized what I was doing, I wanted to deck him.   It is a good thing my children were right there.  I don't want them to see me fight so I held back.   But this guy deserved a good ol' smack upside the head!   I'm generally not a violent person.  I can't even really describe the feeling I had at that moment. 

In the course of venting on Facebook one of my friends reminded me of a story that I'm going to share here.  

One stormy winter day, President Spencer W. Kimball was at an airport in Chicago. A bad storm had caused thousands of people to be stranded or delayed. One young woman was standing in a long line. She was going to have a baby soon, and she was sick and very, very tired.

 

She had a two-year-old child, who was sitting on the dirty floor. Because her doctor had warned her that she must not bend over and pick up anything heavy, all the woman could do as the line slowly moved forward was push her crying, hungry child with her foot.

Other people who saw her only made nasty remarks, but President Kimball smiled at her and said, “You need help. Let me help you.”

He picked up the little girl, soothed her, and gave her a piece of gum. He talked to the people in line about how the woman needed help. He talked to the ticket agent, too, and the woman was soon checked in. He found a place where she and her little girl could be comfortable until they could get on their plane. Then he quietly left.
(Friend, September 1999, What Would the Prophets Want Me to Do?) I think if there are more people who are willing to help rather than make nasty remarks, life would be so much easier for all involved.   Why did this man have to criticize rather than help?  

Let me tell another experience.   I was sitting in church on Sunday.   I was ill prepared and we arrived at church realizing we did not have sufficient activities to keep children quiet.   So Timothy started getting a little out of control and loud.   The sweet woman in front of us who only has one older boy at home right now, pulled out a metal container with magnets and handed it to Timothy.   This was such a godsend.   He loved it.   She even drew him a picture on a 3 X 5 card just to tell him how special he is.  After Sacrament meeting she apologized saying she should have asked me first if he could have the toys.   I told her no, I was just grateful somebody had the guts to help when it was obvious we needed some extra help.  

Now, how hard was that?   This lady only had to hand a toy back to my child who obviously needed something different.  Such a simple task, but it meant so much to me at that point.  It really does not take much to help others and to be kind.   Why do people find it necessary to be so mean and judgmental?   After all, this man did not know our history, did not know the difficulty I had in just getting to the library.   He did not know how frustrated I was that despite my repeated reminders on the way to the library about not running around and being quiet, my children still found it necessary to run around and be loud.  

I got home from the library almost in tears.  This is happening far too often.  In trying to be a good mom; giving my kids opportunities to learn, grow, etc.; and get them out of the house I get criticized far too often.  I recognize that I am lacking in patience.   I recognize that I am far from perfect.   I also recognize that I have some difficult children.   But, despite the difficulties we face, we have had many good days.  We have had quite a few outings where things go well.  Today the cards were just not in my favor.  

I know I have been judgmental.   But I have never told anybody that they are not a good enough parent and that they are doing it wrong.  I have offered to help.   I have tried to be there when others need me.   All I ever ask of others is to be more kind and understanding instead of knocking others down.   Wouldn't life be so much better if we didn't have to knock others down to make our inferior selves feel better?