When I first started writing this blog, I had envisioned submitting multiple entries per week. I figured my son's actions would provide enough material that I would have to limit what I actually wrote about. That part is still pretty accurate, but the desire to write about his daily actions became...well...undesirable. Don't get me wrong, my son still provides plenty of fun and entertaining material to pass on, that is for sure, but when the wind keeps being taken away from my sails, I tend to forget to raise them back up when it returns. To be less cryptic, I simply had no desire to write about what was going on in our lives these past few months and the moments of happiness were overshadowed by the dark cloud that loomed above.
To recap, my family and I recently moved to North Carolina. My son was less than pleased to leave his friends behind. We knew it would be a difficult move, but we were looking ahead...way ahead, for a better future for all of us. These past seven or eight months have definitely not been easy. One of us broke an ankle in three places, another one of us has been exited from two schools, and the other is still unemployed. All of our nerves are shot and we feel like we are hanging on by a thread. However, if I was able to go back in time and know then what I know now, I would still believe we would be making the right choice to move. My son thinks otherwise. My wife is undecided. We sacrified stability and comfort to take a leap of faith, trusting that breaking out of our comfort zone would reap more rewards for our future. Nothing in life is free, and if these past months are any indication of the payment for our coming reward, we are going to find even more happiness here than we could imagine when we made the choice.
My son has been through more in his short time on earth than many adults go through their whole life. When he was a toddler, his first father died. He was hospitalized a year later with severe depression. He was diagnosed with a potential for bi-polar disorder on top of standard depression. He has been on medication for the past two years (there'll be a whole other blog about meds and children...) and has changed dosages and prescriptions more times than most people buy cars. Most recently, he moved to a completely different state.
Although that last one may not seem that difficult to most people, it was the new diagnosis of Asperger's that shed light on how challenging a move like we experienced actually is. Imagine you are on a freight train cruising west on a straight path at top speed; suddenly, the conductor tells you to pick up the entire train and place it on a track going north. First, the wreckage of stopping a train so suddenly would be devastating, second, the ability to lift that train by yourself is impossible, and third, it just doesn't make sense, does it? For an Aspie, this is how they live their life; on one specific track and if you ask them to suddenly change routes, you better be prepared for a devastating wreck of emotions.
So, because I love to write, and because I hope this will serve as a source of valuable information to anybody close to my son, and to those who will never meet him, and because I am looking for answers myself, I have decided to make a change in procedure, alter my topic, morph my style and write about raising a child with Asperger's Syndrome. I may lose a reader or two, but that's ok since I only have a few anyway, haha. Thank you all for sticking with me, by the way! And if I lose you, yes, I will be sad, but I believe this is the direction I need to go. Some of it will be self-therapeutic, some of it may be shocking, some of it will be informational, and some of it will be funny (at least to me it will be). For example, why does the syndrome have to be named in a way that sounds like Ass-burger, or Ass-booger??? Which is why I will be referring to my son as an Aspie as much as possible! But, after looking at what I just typed, one might see that as Ass-pie (as my son pointed out yesterday!)...hmmmm, there's just no easy way to say it, which makes me realize how important it is going to be to maintain my sense of humor through the upcoming years.
On a more serious note, I have no idea what I will be writing about because I have no idea how this is going to affect our lives. I must admit, I am not 100% convinced the diagnosis is accurate. As a matter of fact, sometimes I believe my son's actions are manifested from the diagnosis and not the diagnosis coming from his actions. Either way, it is going to be a very interesting and educational ride. What I do know is my son's mind works in magical and mysterious ways. His intelligence level is far superior to mine and some of the doctors who have treated him. His outlook, when he is on a peaceful track, is fantastic. His desire to be a good person shines through even in the darkest of days...most of the time. Although he prefers a straight track to live his life, his mind is more like a twisting and turning super-fast roller-coaster to those around him. In short, all aspects (good and bad) of him are amazing.
I hope you will stick with me, learn from my experiences, share your experiences, forward the blog address to anyone who may benefit or have additional insight, and together, hopefully, we can understand how such an amazing mind works. After all, parenting is parenting. All children are unique, special people full of challenges and full of blessings.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Parents are insane!
Albert Einstein is credited with defining insanity as, doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. By this definition, I believe parents can be classified as being insane. At the very least, I can claim insanity. However, on a rare occasion, the persistence may just pay off...
Many years ago, there were days that I just did not want to go to school. I would claim a tummy ache and throw in the headache for good measure, hoping my mother would take pity and allow me to stay home. After all, how could a good parent force a sick child upon the world? That would be unheard of, right? HA! Yeah, right. If my memory serves well, that little ploy worked less than half of the time...maybe even less than a quarter of the time.
Now, my son, who thinks I never tried the exact same things he is trying or went through the same struggles he is going through (silly little naive grasshopper), is trying the old stomach ache, headache, and overall sick act upon me, again. Poor kid...he doesn't stand a chance with that one! Of course, for the sake of learning, we do allow him to stay home on occasion, and sometimes simply because his act is so convincing we feel that not only does he earn the right to stay home, he should also earn an Emmy or an Oscar for his portrayal of a truly ill child. But, regardless of the situation, the consequence is always the same; he must stay in his room, get rest, and if he cannot sleep, he may read a book, write a letter, or draw. No TV, no play time, no fun stuff...if you are too sick to be at school, you are too sick to do anything other than rest. What's that? You are hungry? I'll get you some chicken soup and ultra-bland saltine crackers to eat.
Every time he feels "sick" we do the same thing, over and over again, expecting he will get a clue and realize that playing hooky is not fun (at least not until you become an adult and can usually get away with it!), and hope that he sees that the grass is not always greener on the other side. Yes, we are insane, by Einstein's definition, we do the same thing over and over again and expect different results. Only this time, we have proven Einstein wrong! Muahaha!
Yesterday, he tried to play the sick card and had the school give us a call. My response was, give him child's strength Motrin, and send him back to class. Children's Motrin must be magic because he miraculously recovered by the time he came home and was feeling well enough to say he had a good day. Today, the school called again, but this time, he was not given the opportunity to take the magic Motrin, he was sent home.
When I arrived, I was less than happy about the situation, but decided I had better give him the benefit of the doubt and see if the little boy who cried wolf actually saw a wolf this time. When his healthy looking cheeks, alert eyes, and the silent mischievous smirk yelling "ha!, I fooled the grown-ups this time!" came around the corner, I knew immediately there was no wolf. I sighed, because I knew I was about to do the same thing I had done many times before, and yes, I was hoping for a different result.
I took the guilt trip route. I explained to him that if he is really sick, there is no need to apologize, but if he is acting, there will be a problem because his mother and I have had to rearrange our schedules, cancel meetings, and push back work that needed to be done. If he was really sick, however, none of that would matter because we will always be there for him. He promised that his tummy hurt, and that he wasn't acting. "hmmm...ok" was all I said.
When we arrived home, I immediately sent him to his room for "much needed rest" and explained to him that he can read if he cannot sleep, but no running around, playing games, or anything of the sort. His "sick" body needed rest to recover. When he asked if he could have crackers, I told him, after you get some sleep, I'll fix some chicken soup and crackers for you...yep, same thing over and over again.
I headed downstairs to get dinner into the crock-pot before my six hour available cook time had expired (I love crock-pots, by the way). Along with the clattering of plates and silverware prepping the feast for the evening, I heard a random, "thump..thump" coming from upstairs. I let the first one go, but the second, third and fourth were all met with "You need to stop moving around and get some rest!" I also explained to him, again, that if he is well enough to be moving around like he is, then he is well enough to go back to school.
A few minutes later, my son trudged down the steps, his head hung low, with these words coming out of his mouth, "Dad, take me back to school. I lied, I am not sick." I had to work at suppressing the grin my mouth was trying to form, but somehow I managed.
The following conversation reiterated the reasons why he shouldn't cry wolf, why lying is wrong, and so on, but the final consequence was the same as if he really were sick...bed rest, reading, and drawing was all that was allowed. I was nice enough to tell him he could clean his room, in addition to the previously mentioned activities, though, so I am not that mean of a parent! In the end, he was not happy with his choices and seemed to be legitimately remorseful for his actions.
So, maybe I am not as insane as I thought I was. Perhaps doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result from your child is not a part of Einstein's definition. Somewhere out there, I am guessing there is a disclaimer to his theory that reads, "exclusions apply," which I seem to have found...for now. We'll see how his next "sick day" goes first before I claim absolute victory...Either way, I hope he learns from these experiences and does not prove Einstein's theory correct!
Many years ago, there were days that I just did not want to go to school. I would claim a tummy ache and throw in the headache for good measure, hoping my mother would take pity and allow me to stay home. After all, how could a good parent force a sick child upon the world? That would be unheard of, right? HA! Yeah, right. If my memory serves well, that little ploy worked less than half of the time...maybe even less than a quarter of the time.
Now, my son, who thinks I never tried the exact same things he is trying or went through the same struggles he is going through (silly little naive grasshopper), is trying the old stomach ache, headache, and overall sick act upon me, again. Poor kid...he doesn't stand a chance with that one! Of course, for the sake of learning, we do allow him to stay home on occasion, and sometimes simply because his act is so convincing we feel that not only does he earn the right to stay home, he should also earn an Emmy or an Oscar for his portrayal of a truly ill child. But, regardless of the situation, the consequence is always the same; he must stay in his room, get rest, and if he cannot sleep, he may read a book, write a letter, or draw. No TV, no play time, no fun stuff...if you are too sick to be at school, you are too sick to do anything other than rest. What's that? You are hungry? I'll get you some chicken soup and ultra-bland saltine crackers to eat.
Every time he feels "sick" we do the same thing, over and over again, expecting he will get a clue and realize that playing hooky is not fun (at least not until you become an adult and can usually get away with it!), and hope that he sees that the grass is not always greener on the other side. Yes, we are insane, by Einstein's definition, we do the same thing over and over again and expect different results. Only this time, we have proven Einstein wrong! Muahaha!
Yesterday, he tried to play the sick card and had the school give us a call. My response was, give him child's strength Motrin, and send him back to class. Children's Motrin must be magic because he miraculously recovered by the time he came home and was feeling well enough to say he had a good day. Today, the school called again, but this time, he was not given the opportunity to take the magic Motrin, he was sent home.
When I arrived, I was less than happy about the situation, but decided I had better give him the benefit of the doubt and see if the little boy who cried wolf actually saw a wolf this time. When his healthy looking cheeks, alert eyes, and the silent mischievous smirk yelling "ha!, I fooled the grown-ups this time!" came around the corner, I knew immediately there was no wolf. I sighed, because I knew I was about to do the same thing I had done many times before, and yes, I was hoping for a different result.
I took the guilt trip route. I explained to him that if he is really sick, there is no need to apologize, but if he is acting, there will be a problem because his mother and I have had to rearrange our schedules, cancel meetings, and push back work that needed to be done. If he was really sick, however, none of that would matter because we will always be there for him. He promised that his tummy hurt, and that he wasn't acting. "hmmm...ok" was all I said.
When we arrived home, I immediately sent him to his room for "much needed rest" and explained to him that he can read if he cannot sleep, but no running around, playing games, or anything of the sort. His "sick" body needed rest to recover. When he asked if he could have crackers, I told him, after you get some sleep, I'll fix some chicken soup and crackers for you...yep, same thing over and over again.
I headed downstairs to get dinner into the crock-pot before my six hour available cook time had expired (I love crock-pots, by the way). Along with the clattering of plates and silverware prepping the feast for the evening, I heard a random, "thump..thump" coming from upstairs. I let the first one go, but the second, third and fourth were all met with "You need to stop moving around and get some rest!" I also explained to him, again, that if he is well enough to be moving around like he is, then he is well enough to go back to school.
A few minutes later, my son trudged down the steps, his head hung low, with these words coming out of his mouth, "Dad, take me back to school. I lied, I am not sick." I had to work at suppressing the grin my mouth was trying to form, but somehow I managed.
The following conversation reiterated the reasons why he shouldn't cry wolf, why lying is wrong, and so on, but the final consequence was the same as if he really were sick...bed rest, reading, and drawing was all that was allowed. I was nice enough to tell him he could clean his room, in addition to the previously mentioned activities, though, so I am not that mean of a parent! In the end, he was not happy with his choices and seemed to be legitimately remorseful for his actions.
So, maybe I am not as insane as I thought I was. Perhaps doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result from your child is not a part of Einstein's definition. Somewhere out there, I am guessing there is a disclaimer to his theory that reads, "exclusions apply," which I seem to have found...for now. We'll see how his next "sick day" goes first before I claim absolute victory...Either way, I hope he learns from these experiences and does not prove Einstein's theory correct!
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