Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Faking It

Let's sit down and have a conversation about faking it.

We have all done it at one point or another. Sometimes we are just too tired, sometimes we are just lazy, and for some of us it's just the idea that having to get going that just makes us want to cry.

Well.

It happened to me. And it's not so cute when it happens to you.

Especially when it requires you to take off stuff...

Like Work.

Wait. Are we talking about the same thing here?



This is my faker of a son. I can't prove that he wasn't sick and I still can't figure out how he made the thermometer go up to 101.

But this dude is NOT sick.


And I should add that during the taking of that picture he actually smiled huge, looked at me, I could literally see him thinking "Oh sh*t, I'm supposed to be sick!" and then gave me that sad look.

Psh. Don't even try that crap with me boy. It's not amature hour over here.



And NO your "sick" behind can not go play outside, or play video games, or have chips since supposedly your "throat hurts so bad".


And even though I thought pre-kids I would be way cooler as a mom and just take the day to chill out with you and know that maybe you needed a down day....in reality your manipulative too-smart-for-your-own-good butt would then start crying sick every other day, making me take off work and pay the doctor more money from your college fund to tell me it is probably some odd virus that he can't detect. At all. (P.s. Holy-run-on-sentence)

So I'm going to do what my parents did for my own manipulative behind...make you sit in your room, have zero fun, and realize that staying home with mom or dad faking sick isn't fun at all. Make it where if you could have went to school by hour #2, you would have. But alas, dear Lil'Dude just like your dear old mom you are in fact just as stubborn as well and will ride this train out as long as you have to instead of admitting anything.


Update:

Just got back from the doctor, from what I was sure was a wasted trip since nothing hurt anymore miraculously.


And



He has strep.


Well....oops. Okay okay....I sort of believe him now.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Pushing Your Kid off a Mountain on Tiny Strips of Metal

Sometimes, just sometimes, I will have you know that one of my passing-thought-turns-into-planning-mayhem bouts of madness become reality.

This is one of those times.

Way back in February of 2012, my eldest child came upon my dearest spouse and I sitting down to read a book and take a break from the bustle of the day. Seeing my dearest leg of lamb standing there I say "Pray tell, child, what is it that you need from Mummy?" He then enquires if it is possible to go on a skiing holiday or to see snow, as he desires nothing more than to put his lovely little face in it. We joyfully laughed at our buttercup roll of honey and told him that maybe one day he too, could be pushed off a mountain on thin strips of metal, like his dear old mum and pop. My little soldier of baby fat love replied that he would quite like that and then we dined on crumpets and tea.

Okay I admit....we didn't have crumpets and tea, but otherwise that was a very accurate presentation on how it all began....with a question from Lil'Dude.

Right after the question was asked I looked at Brewerman. I paused for a half a beat and he instantly looked up and said "don't even think about". So, of course, after thinking more about it I answered "but it's possible...why not?" He replied that there was no way, and no time to plan an impromptu ski vacation in a month.


Well. If that isn't a challenge I don't know what is.

So a month later we went to Breckenridge for a ski vacation!! 5 days of blissfully falling down mountains, riding the Gondola (prounounced Gone-DOLE-a), and most importantly, eatting anything you wanted. Snow was plentiful, sun was out, and despite a few hard crashes, noone was permanently injured (but I think we are all still sore today). Basically? It was wonderful.

My man and I
The View from our cabin.
Yes. View is capitalized here. I think it deserves it, no?

On Peak 10

View from Peak 10
Our pumpkin pies learned how to ski as well. We put them each in two days of ski schools (psh, like we would teach them. That would end up with all of us pissed off and ready to kill each other). By the third day, the five year old was going down blues (or "double blues" as he called them) with us and asking to go down double blacks. Our three year old, well he got an extra day of school, and still didn't quite get it as quickly, though he was close by the time we had to leave.

Lil'Guy at lessons


I blame the pizza. And Ninja turtles.

Let me explain: as the instructor was telling Donatello (he forced them to call him that) to do the pizza, he would ask "What kind of pizza!? Cheese!?! Ninja turtles only like pepperoni!!! I can't do CHEESE PIZZA!!"

*Sigh* Besides the inaccuracy of the statement (Ninja turtles like ANY pizza, hello!), it didn't help the situation much. But there is always next year! And he had fun, so what the who anyways.

Lil'Dude was ripping and rolling out there though. He loved it, and loved going fast. He fell a few times but got right back up. He was cutting back and forth on his little skis and they never had to stop the lifts once for him (even on the big "only blues" mountain). There isn't anything like seeing your kid conquer something that he didn't think he could do. Of course I was totally freaked out and made someone ski on each side of him at all times. I spent half the time whooping and hollering for him, and the other half visualizing all the brutal ways he could accidentally die out there. But seeing his face at the end of the run and that excitement? Priceless.

Lil'Dude at lessons

Lil'Dude after going down his very first slope!

Nana, Papa, us and Lil'Dude


I was also very proud of my hubby, who went down blacks with me on day #2 all day and did the T-bar the last day (WITHOUT ME), on his birthday, with my brother (NOT ME). I stayed home with tweeter tot #1 and #2 for a day of rest so he could go skiing....without me.....on the t-bar....without me. Not that I expected to get credit or am bitter, it was his birthday no less.

Even though he DID do the T-bar without me.

Da' Boys about to head down the bowl (without me)

We went with my mom and dad, and then my brother Jakethefake and his wife Dannatello. It was a lot of fun and since my parents have my litte sister who his handicapped and so they weren't sure if they would be able to go or not, we ended up staying with my mom's cousin and his wife. They were FANTASTIC and wonderful. The boys adored them and they have a gorgeous home in a beautiful setting. It really was just perfect for all of us and we ended up doing as much laughing and making fun of the other as we did skiing.

We ended the trip with a sled run. Jakethefake and Dannatello ended up buying the kids some fabulous snow toys and sleds (and by kids I mean Brewerman and Jakethefake). On Friday when Brewerman went skiing all day and down the t-bar (without me), I stayed home with my mommy and the kiddos (or is it kiddoes?). We went shopping in the morning which would have been a ball except for a certain 5 and 3 year old ball of no-fun-at-all. It didn't help that they had on their new hats and so everyone stopped to comment how cute they were. After telling him not to, my kid is purposely and carefully stomping around in EVERY PUDDLE and turning to stare back at me mockingly, and I can't kill him because of all the witnesses making goo goo eyes at him. RUDE! Finally at noon it was either strap the children to a tree, push them out of the running car, or let them play in the snow so we don't have to be near them.
 
The No-Fun-At-Alls with their cute hats riding the Gondola
Well since there wasn't a tree big enough, and the child locks prevented us from getting the doors open, we let them romp in the snow. I got out the sleds but the snow was too deep and wasn't packed.

So I decided I was going to make a sled run. How hard could it be? Turns out, as anyone who has ever lived in an area that has had 4 feet or more of snow can tell you - really really hard. I ended up shoveling snow in a tank top, I was so hot. Thankfully my mom was there to help as well, so we were both sore and exhausted. Boy howdy though at the end, it was a pretty run. Because I can't stand things not over-the-top, I kept making it bigger....and bigger...until...well here were the results:
Momma and I showing our stuff

Working the day away

The Lil'Guy flying down the run

My littlest man
(Sorry it's turned, I'm lazy.)

Brewerman's turn

Somebody ate it!

Jakethefake, Dannatello, and Lil'Guy about to rip it up

The drive wasn't bad either, to or from. The boys are champs and didn't have to stop once other than lunch and when we needed gas. There was an instance that we won't talk about, outside of Amarillo, where we got to where our gas meter on our Explorer said we have 5 miles left of gas and we literally had it on neutral rolling into a gas station. It was all Brewerman's fault....oh...and the instance where we walked into a mexican restaurant in middle-of-nowhere, Texas...then sat down, ordered water....looked around...and walked out. Let's just say everything came with a free side of food poisoning and ketchup.

All in all, this is a vacation that we would repeat over and over, and are since on a whim we bought our own skis and boots (which are SO MUCH BETTER than renting). Kids had fun, we had fun, and we were all literally in bed by 8pm every night. Success!


P.s. I can't say enough about Breckenridge. The slopes were great of course, LOVED the variety of runs, but really what I was most impressed with is the customer service. The school was great, too. Buying lift tickets was easy, we had to make a change and they completely went above and beyond and let us, and then I had an issue at the end and they again went over and above to make it right. It is more expensive but worth it. I also loved that your card is set up with your credit card attached so you don't have to bring your wallet with you. Next year we will be there or New Mexico....still trying to decide. Thoughts?

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

The Costco Incident

So this post is a Guest Speaker Post!!

Well...more like a "HA HA IT WASN'T MY KID THIS TIME!!" post. Especially since this has been one of my biggest fear since becoming a parent. And. It. Wasn't. My. Kid!!!!!!!!

A few months ago, my sister, Katierahrah came down for the weekend with her children, Hayladiva, Turtleman, and Madhappymadhappy. They adore my children, and my children adore them. I always envisioned my kids being close to their cousins and they are.

(Except don't tell Lil'Guy that I gave Turtleman that nickname. He would be furious and then I would have an all-out war on my hands. We already have to call Lil'Guy RaphaelLuigi. Or DonatelloLuigi, depending on his mood.)

Well on Saturday, since my mom came and she can hardly go an hour without some form of shopping, we decided to go to Costco. My love in a store.

Looking back, we were rather stupid.

But of course, most of the time I think that when I look back.

Anyway, we decide to eat lunch at Costco, since it's 1pm and someone wouldn't stop the endless ranting about how hungry they were....Katierahrah....not the kids. So we eat a whole 18" Costco Pizza, two 12" Costco hotdogs, and 3 - 14" Costco Churros smothered in cinnamon and sugar. Hey, I was hungry when I ordered. The kids did each get half a piece of pizza. C'mon now...we aren't complete selfish pigs.

So anyway, since we have a thousand kids with us who are all 6 and under, it took us about 5 months to eat. Then we went shopping. Costco shopping takes me about a day with just me. I love it. I look at everything, even stuff I saw the last 1000 times I went there. My wallet fears for it's life as my hands start grabbing stuff to buy. They must put something in the air there...


Okay back to the incident.

We have all eighteen kids running around like mad men because we gave them pure deep fat fried sugar and pizza five minutes ago. We are browsing...looking...loving. Stopped at the Blender Dude selling the $400 blender, watched him make smoothies, ripped all 14 kids away from said blender dude and my mom who was quickly trying to figure out a reason why she HAS to have buy it.

We round the corner to the meats, and go past the freezer section. A short hour later we were by the chips. By that time one kid is crying for no reason, one is hanging off the cart, one is running and dive bombing on the floor, one is at the sample cart....again, while we are frantically feeding the littlest and quite possibly most dangerous one food to keep her happy. Then one by one like a freak show waterfall each have to pee. Like "I am going to pee my pants NOW" pee. *sigh* Why they can't give you more warning I will never know.

Then all of a sudden my mom and I happen to look to our left.

We see Turtleman pushing against the door clearly marked "EXIT - ALARM WILL SOUND".

Time slows down. We yelll "Noooooo." I (having the most practice at quick-drawing with my own kids) start rushing Turtleman to yank him away.

But right as I get to him...it happened.

Oh, and when it happens....it happens LOUD.


The alarm starts BLARING. And not just on that one teeny 10 foot section.

Hello Costco Shoppers, we now have a LOUD HORN alarm echoing through the entire store. So I, of course, like the super concerned shopper and responsible parent I am, run for it. I yell at the kids to follow me and RUN and bolt it to the bathroom leaving my mom and sister standing there stunned. It's all in the practice, I lost the ability to be surprised by the antics of children a long time ago.

Oh...then to add the cherry to the delcious homemade whipped topping topped Mint Chocolate Chip Sundae with chocolate sauce...ah hem...sorry about that, I'm pretty hungry.

Back to story: to top it all off my bra strap unhooks by itself. So I am running ahead, holding up my bra, screaming at the kids to follow me, five kids dashing after me holding themselves because they have to go to the bathroom so bad, through Costco, while the alarm is blaring loud enough for the people across the street to hold their ears.

Fun.Times.

Finally, I hit the rest room, escort the frantic kids into the right rooms (instantly yanking the three boys out of the same stall because they think it would be fun to cross streams...boys are weird) and re-hook my stupid bra. Then each little person does their business in the bathroom (while I am consistently telling the others to stop trying to look under random stalls, not touch anything, and for goodness sake buckle your pants before you come out). After they washed their hands for the millionth time and each took 15 paper towels, I hear my cue to come out...the alarm stops.

I squeakishly stick my head out of the bathroom, but there is no Costco security guard ready to escort us out. I don't think anyone knew it was us, and just to be sure I started talking smack to a random woman about parents letting their kids run all crazy through the store and setting off alarms. Then I escorted all five kids (one of whom STILL wasn't buckled) to find my mom and sister that I left to handle the alarm.


Anywho - there is my "HA HA IT WASN'T MY KID" incident.

All in all, a pretty fantastic weekend with my pretty fantastic family.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

The Hardest Post I Wasn't Going to Write

I talked a litte bit about some of the difficulties we have had this past summer in a previous blog. To blog..or not to blog? I want to protect Lil'Dude's privacy....

But I am so sick of the silence.


So. SO sick of it.

Let's just rip off the bandaid shall we?

My five year old has ADHD. (He was actually four at the time.)

And he is on ADHD medication.


Support is not something easily come by for parents going through this, but most especially parents of children younger than 5. We feel alone, and guilty. Oh...the guilt. Guilty for even thinking your child has ADHD this young...guilty because you think it's your parenting...guilty because there is no way you are doing half the things other parents are doing with their kids because it's just too hard with your child. Guilty because....because sometimes you just want a break from your child. Guilty because sometimes....sometimes just the thought of spending a day alone with your child makes you cringe. Guilty because they are just babies....just tiny little people that can't figure out why they do these things.
Guilty because despite all the love and attention you give your child...you can't fix it. 

Guilty because it's "just" ADHD. Many people have it. So they are a little more hyper and active....so why is it so hard?!


Psh. People who think ADHD isn't that hard, do not have a child with ADHD. 


Lil'Dude has shown signs since he was 6 months old. He had to have high stimulation from the get go. He never played by himself, played with his toes, with blocks, etc. He liked music, dancing lights, and attention. He didn't really play with toys unless you were there playing with him.
When he started walking at 12 months, he literally started running the next day. Literally. He never stopped. He just kept going and going. By 18 months he was getting into everything, daily. Sounds normal right? Well by 2 years old...we were overwhelmed. It shouldn't be this hard right?! I mean, yes, two years old is hard, but you shouldn't have to lock them in their room to get them to sleep...or so that they won't wake up in the middle of then night and get into the knives, or something else dangerous. Every single day during naptime he would rip off every article of clothing from his closet. Every. Day. He would get into things every day...despite getting in trouble every day. We were VERY consistent with punishments and discipline. But he consistently did things, day in and day out, he wouldn't learn.

It was level high, all the time. He didn't watch TV, it couldn't hold his attention. He didn't play with puzzles, he didn't play with toys period really. Well he would play with toys...for a second, then he was on to the next one. He was extremely sensitive to sleep, if he didn't get a certain number of hours of sleep...it was over. He was like a little Tasmanian Devil. He couldn't control himself, couldn't stop from grabbing things, breaking things, throwing things, hitting things, hitting other kids.

We could never...ever leave him in a room without our supervision. He would walk into a room and he would literally zoom into all the things he could get into. He is extremely impulsive. We would open the door to walk outside and he would take off. Chasing him down the street yelling...over and over and over and over....and over.

He was extremely smart also. I think this made it worse. He got bored easily. He can read people...and read situations. If he wanted something, he would find a way to get it. Manipulation at his finest. Goes without a nap for a day? Screams at naptime day in and day out for the next week trying to get out of it then too. If he even sensed his door wasn't locked he would keep coming out until 12pm when we finally had enough and locked it again. Then the next day he was out of control because he didn't have enough sleep.

Needless to say, I broke a few months before he turned three. I kept waiting for him to "grow out of it" as people would tell me he would. I would wonder why I was always so exhausted. Why is the discipline techniques not working? Why are people laughing about their two year olds' antics when I just want to cry? People say the things he is doing is normal, but is it normal for them to do it every single day? People tell me to ignore him, how do you ignore a child when he is literally taking knives off the counter every day if you don't have them put up completely? Luckily, I had a doctor that listened, and agreed that it sounded like there might be more here.

So we looked into it. Had a way-overenthusiastic neurologist that diagnosed him for the rest of his life, and then a therapist who basically said it was all in our head.

*sigh*

I can sum up the next couple of years of back and forth...back and forth. Does he have ADHD? No? Yes? No? Yes? All in our head? Maybe we are just really bad parents? Are we too aggressive? Are we too passive? Is it his age? Is this normal?

Medication? No meds? We don't want a zombie. He is just three, isn't that too young? We can deal with it right? Ooo he had a good week, he is out of it! Bad week, horrible week. Back..forth..back...forth.

Finally when he was four and a half, I had enough. He was acting out in daycare and he didn't know why. He was losing his confidence, frustrated with himself, frustrated that he had no friends because he couldn't control his aggression or impulsiveness. He couldn't control himself. I was starting to see him become confused, because as he got older he knew these things were wrong, and yet he just couldn't stop himself.

I had a therapist tell me that there is no way to tell if he has ADHD at four years old.

I had a therapist tell me it's because he is adopted and that is his way of voicing his emotions (Psh).
I had an all-natural doctor tell me he is the sickest most malnurished child and that his brain isn't getting enough vitamins and that is why he is hyper. We basically had to get vitamins that were custom made, and cut out corn, wheat,  rice, barley, yellow fruit and vegetables, red fruits and vegetables, fish, beef, poultry, pork, pinto beans, dairy, eggs, shellfish, and a list of herbs and miscellaneous foods. Oh, and add in probiotics because his gut was also in turmoil.

Well. I feed him very healthy and he is rarely sick...so no. He is not on the brink of death though if you asked this guy it's what he believed. It took that for me to make my final step. I was going to my doctor and we were discussing options.

So I went to my pediatrician. Who immediately wanted me to try medication. We discussed side effects, discussed everything. He already knew a lot of what we were dealing with from our past visits. I walked out of that visit with something I hadn't had in a long time, confidence. I was confident it wasn't my parenting, it wasn't what I was or was not feeding him. It's time for us to try medication.

I also had a behvioral Pediatrician confirm the ADHD diagnosis. Then gave me the best compliment ever by telling me how good I am with him, and that most of my instincts have been spot on. You have no idea how amazing that is to hear after what I have been through.

So we tried medication, started the next day (Saturday) and by the second hour of the first day...he walked up to us and said "Oh my gosh mom, I am being such a good boy today!!" He played for hours in his play room with his toys. For the first time ever. EVER. I will never forget the first time he actually sat down and played with toys.

He sat down and played a game, for 15 minutes.

He played tag without tackling a kid, for the very first time. In turn, kids wanted to play with him too.

And he had a full on conversation with us. He actually stopped and had a conversation.

His confidence soared. Our confidence soared.

Acceptance.

This is the way for us. He needs this. ADHD is a mental illness. And I am not going to make his life harder by denying him medication, specifically made to help ADHD when he needs it. Why? You aren't going to tell a depressed person to just get happy, or a person suffering with anxiety to just calm down. You can't tell a child, much less, with ADHD to pay attention. You can't teach that. It is a mental illness. No dietary changes are going to cure it. No discipline techniques will change it.

It's not your fault. 

How did they get ADHD? Well it's highly genetic, yes. Some believe immunizing kids causes it...using a microwave, watching TV. In the end, it doesn't matter. It's NOT something you did or did not do. It just is. People say it's over-diagnosed. I say it's under-diagnosed...especially in children younger than school age. Because what I found out? You sure as heck CAN see symptoms early. It's just not often that parents put all the signs together, and dare to speak it out loud.

People are going to judge you. People are going to shove things down your throat. They are going to think to themselves that they could have that child whipped up in no time. Ignore them. They have no idea. You know your child. If you see symptoms, don't stay quiet. Research. And if it's time to medicate, please don't discount it right away like I did. I wish I would have started earlier. My son on medication isn't a zombie. No, if that was the case then the medication is a wrong dosage or variety. No, it's like lifting up a cloud and finally allowing my son to shine. You finally see HIM. He can finally stop and draw a picture, play with friends, and just watch a movie. Beyond that....most importantly...is his confidence has soared.

I'm not saying meds are the only way. The right way. I'm saying to not be afraid of all the bad press. Put them as an option, that's all.

But more importantly, stop beating yourself up as a parent.

You aren't alone. You aren't at fault. You are doing everything you can. 


Saying that parenting your child is hard, isn't saying they are any less amazing. 


Lil'Dude is going to be something amazing, you just watch. This boy is going to soar, with or without medication. And I am going to be there, cheering him on the entire way.


If that means I have a few more wrinkles....a few bags under my eyes from worry...a harder, tougher skin from dealing with criticism...a large gulp size glass of wine in my hand...well so be it. Because it's the kids that give us the more wrinkles and whitest hair that change the world. And I wouldn't change it for the world.