Drive-Thru Diagnosis?

I don't generally pontificate on news stories. But when a news story such as the piece on autism in Time Healthland airs, I cannot contain my words.

Did you read it? Read it.

All done? Ok.

So, we can diagnose a kid as autistic in 5 minutes? We can accurately label a child as autistic in just 5 minutes? With just one home video? Without having met the patient on good days and bad? We can count on the answers of a parent on a questionnaire as foolproof? I can tell you this: When filling out questionnaires about my child, I often found myself flinging my heart from one side of the fence to the other. I would answer honestly, but would then wonder if my honesty was, well, honest. Was the answer to question #14 correct or was it influenced by the fact that I desperately don't WANT this diagnosis to be true? Was the answer to question #23 correct or was it influenced by the fact that I desperately DO want this diagnosis to be true? To have a reason for all of these... issues?

Do you see the issue?

Don't get me wrong; Parent evaluations are vastly important. Nobody knows their child better than the parents do. But there is more to a psychological evaluation than "7 online questions and a short home video."

These guidelines would surely work for determining if a child should be brought in for further evaluations. But I fear that the parents who wish for their child to have a reason for their issues will have far too easy a method of screwing with the system. I fear that if these methods are allowed to pass as a definitive diagnosis, many children who are not autistic will be labeled as such. This would also mean that a multitude of children who ARE legitimately autistic and requiring intervention services will not be able to receive such help due to the increase in referrals.

I am not a medical professional but I am a mom of a kid who falls somewhere on the spectrum. I am a mom of a kid who could attach labels to his name, if he wanted to do so. I am a mom who is concerned that this type of drive-thru diagnosis could be a sign of what is to come for our medical futures and I am afraid.

What Comes Around

Whose idea was it to teach these kids to have minds of their own?

Oh yeah.

That was a brilliant parenting move...

And I quote:

"Just because that's true* for EVERYONE else in the WORLD, doesn't mean it's true for ME! I like being different! I LIKE BEING WEIRD!"

Really.

What do I say to that? My heart's desire for Justin to have an independent mind has turned around and bitten me on my proverbial Mommy ass.

My 12 year old knows his own mind. The irony that his mind tends to disagree with every single idea that MY mind happens to have is not lost upon me. I'm sure my own mother is loving the payback I am receiving these days...


*This statement includes, but is not limited to: hair brushing, clothing choices, books to read, polite behavior, cleanliness, voice volume, food, music, enjoyable activities, amount of sleep a normal person requires, amount of activity a normal person requires, responsibilities, privileges, ways to not aggravate your mother, methods of learning math/language/any other educational skill, and on, and on, and on....

I just wanted a smoothie, damnit

"Aaaaeeeiiieeee!! EvAN! That's MY seat!!"

"Evan, as a personal favor to me, could you please, please PLEASE let her sit there? I know she's tired and whiny, but I just want to get through these banana smoothies without a fight. Please?"

Evan relented with a huff and a sigh but Justin's indignation would not be so silent.

"I hate that! I hate that she always gets her way! That is SO unfair!"

"Justin, this is not about you..."

"She ALWAYS gets her way. She just has to whine a little and you let her do whatever she wants!"

"That is not true. And when you were 4, you whined just as much as she did and we had to work our lives around it, too. Now that you're older..."

"It's NOT FAIR."

"Life isn't fair!"

"You ALWAYS SAY THAT!"

"That's because it's ALWAYS true!"

"Arrggghh!! Just, just... NEVER MIND. You just don't understand!"

"Wrong, kiddo. I DO understand. I too had a little sister who whined when she was 4 and I too had a mother who just wanted to get through a meal without an argument. I had to give in and give up and it wasn't 'fair' but LIFE ISN'T FAIR."

"You already said that!"

"That's because it's ALWAYS true! You know what isn't fair? It isn't fair that there are kids who can't argue over who gets to sit at the special chair for their banana smoothies because they don't HAVE chairs or the money to buy a banana smoothie. It's not fair that children are homeless and starving. It's not fair that there are children in homes without love or attention. It's not fair that you have a family that loves and cares for you but there are millions and millions of kids who don't even know what a loving family LOOKS like. LIFE ISN'T FAIR. Being able to argue over a chair is a privilege that I am grateful you guys are allowed. But it isn't asking too much of you guys to occasionally let your little sister sit in the chair after a loooong weekend. She is so tired that she slept on the freaking piano bench, kid. Now drink your smoothie and let me make my own in peace, PLEASE?"

And the skies opened and the angels sang their praises of grace and he was quiet and all was right with the world. And I drank my banana smoothie in peace as I typed this post.

Praise be.

2 hours on the piano bench and NO I didn't even consider waking her up.

The ONLY way to camp!

"This is the ONLY way to camp!" I joyfully stated, over and over on our Boy Scout campout this weekend. After being delayed on Friday night due to tornado watches (yikes), our troop left early on Saturday morning to head out to the beautiful Starved Rock State Park in Illinois. The forecast was partly cloudy with a 20% chance of rain and we were all pumped and ready to camp!

We arrived by caravan sometime around 9 and the boys set up their own tents and started making their OWN breakfast while the supervising parental units set up OUR own tents and made OUR own breakfast. And then? Then the adults sat down and, well, SAT. And the kids ran off with their patrol leader boys to do some boy scoutish things that involved ceremonies and sacrifices or something. I don't really know because the parents aren't supposed to be involved! AT ALL. The ENTIRE weekend!!

I know. You're smiling for me and feeling jealous, right? Trust me, you should be! Because it was FREAKING AWESOME. Whenever we camp as a family, I am the organizer and tent assembler. I pack the bags, unload the gear, and try to wrangle my children into helping me without throwing too many tent stakes at their heads (flesh wounds in a campground are just a bitch to keep clean, you know). But when you gather about 30 boys and openly state that the parents are to be Hands Off unless there is a major emergency, you will end up with 10 parents who have nothing to do at a campground! You will then find these parents gleefully playing games of Koobs for hours on end while the boys trek through the woods and return covered in mud and sweat. All the parents needed to make Saturday absolutely perfect was a live band and some wine coolers...

"This is the ONLY way to camp!" was my mantra on Saturday. From breakfast through dinner and s'mores at 9 pm, I was thrilled to watch the boys romping through the tall grasses. Their games morphed from running with sticks and flashlights to flinging leftover spaghetti into a tree (to feed the birds! It's a Spaghetti Tree!) as they ran about like Ralph and Jack (without the unfortunate ending, of course). Even the intermittent drizzle didn't phase these boys; they were living large and loving the freedom.

But.

(Why is there always a "but?")

BUUUUUUTTTT.... Bedtime loomed and, my friends, my son (whom I hadn't seen more of than a blur of hair for hours) was, shall we say, absolutely, completely, exhausted.

He flopped beside my folding chair, "I'm tired. I want to go home. I'm not having any fun!"

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, yeah. He actually said he wasn't having fun! The boy who spent 2 hours chasing zombies and vampires with sticks in the grass wasn't having fun!! Thankfully, I was able to coerce him into changing into sweats and going to bed in his tent where his buddy was already passed out in. I walked across the field to my own tent (being the only single girl in a group of boys and men has its benefits!) and settled down with my book for the night.

And then the rain began to fall.

And fall.

And FALL.

The steady drumming lulled me to sleep and I was having the most LOVELY dream about being a finalist in a dancing reality show (it could happen) when a conversation outside my tent woke me up. It was with a heavy heart that I admitted (through my clenched eyes) that it was MY child traipsing around in the torrential downpour, flashing his light into the adult tents, loudly "whispering", "Mom? Are you in there?!?"

(All together now: Uuuunnnggggghhh....)

Poking my head through the tent door, "What is going on?!? Why are you guys out of bed?"

"Our tent is totally leaking and we are absolutely soaked! Can I sleep in the van?!?"

"Justin! The van is all the way in the parking lot and it is in the middle of the night! You can't sleep over there without me and you can't leave your buddy alone in the leaking tent! You guys can't sleep in my tent because he's not my son!* GO BACK TO BED!"

I tried. Oh, how I tried! But the tears were flowing and the exhaustion on all of our faces (mine, Justin's, his buddy's and a leader who was woken up before they found me) so I brilliantly said,

"Fine! You and your buddy can sleep in my tent and I will take the van! Get your stuff and get over here!!"

They sleepily but profusely thanked me as they ran off to get their bedding.

I huffily snatched up my spare blankets that were SUPPOSED to be my mattress (Justin's sleeping bag was soaked, so he used mine) from the tent, hoofed my way across the drenched field and pot-holed gravel road and climbed into the van. After assembling myself on the back bench with a pillow and blankets I realized something:

I had a dry bed with a MATTRESS.

.
.
.

This was DEFINITELY the only way to camp!



* Scouting rules include that no adult may be in a tent at any time with a scout.

Because a pre-teen is a pre-teen...

Whoever said that boys are easier than girls? Who? Who?!? I want to meet that person, face to face. I want to shake my exasperated hands over my head and point out the gray streak in my hair. That deranged fool and I need to count the lines that are forming around my eyes and note the raspy quality my voice has taken on from the incessant shouting it is forced into.

I'm just sitting back, wishing I could rant and rave about my beloved first-born child without scarring him for all eternity. Knowing that such a rant would be disloyal, now that he is Eleven Years Old, I must refrain and simply say this:
Boys are NOT easier than Girls.

Oy.

I'll just sit here and soak up my cheap-o wine from Aldi as my yummy stuff from Galena* is (sadly) long gone and think of the days when my eldest was "easier." Ahhh... potty-training and breaking the pacifier... How I miss those days!

* Check out my reveal of the wine I chose. I know you were all waiting on pins and needles, right?

Where's the rainbow after this storm?

Soooo... how was your weekend? Mmm-hmmmm... yeah. Sounds like a blast.

Mine? Really want to know? Because this streak of FABULOUS luck might just make you violently green...

Well, I spent all day on Saturday cleaning out the desk area and moving things back about 2 feet to make space for Justin's homeschool desk. I spent the moments in between cleaning and moving things feeling nauseous. Can I really pull my child from school? Is this something I am brave enough to do? Because HOLY CRAP, I AM SCARED.

Thankfully, Justin is so pumped about this idea that he cleaned the desk, organized it with pencils and paper and such, and even begged me for schoolwork. After I warmed up from hell freezing over, I scrambled to find some work online, but only found a few random math sheets and what-not. Because I am NOT READY to homeschool yet! I was planning on starting in a few weeks, after his recorder recital at school.

And then I got to thinking about all the things he would "miss" by being at home instead of public school. And then I thought about all of the things he might miss out on if he STAYS in school (like, oh, an education without being targeted as weird or difficult). And then I stopped googling homeschool pages and such because my little brain couldn't handle it. And THEN I startd to think about the lack of alone time I would be getting. That I was looking forward to time alone with just Corinne. And that I don't know if it's fair to any of my children to have different schooling experiences....

And then I had a glass of wine. Because I was mentally exhausted.

And then my pregnant neighbor dropped her 5 kids off for a few hours because she had to go to the emergency room for a high fever and bronchitis (she's ok. Thank God!).

This morning, after giving Justin a math lesson (he figured out dividing fractions. In ONE lesson. Big confidence boost!) I went into the basement to get the large pad of paper to do a science project he wants to start on the solar system.

Unfortunately, we never got around to doing that project because there was an inch of water in my basement. Again. And? This time, just for kicks, we got to deal with the freezer being turned off all night (lovely lightning storm last night). The SMELL was horrendous!! We also discovered that the sump pump wasn't working. So we got to buy a new pump in addition to needing to pitch craploads of spoiled food Which is fun, because our money situation is so stable right now...

boxes and boxes of books and Patrick's sports cards that narrowly missed the water. Again. Because I wasn't diligent enough the last time to see them in the far corner...

It could be worse. It could be worse. It could be worse.



I repeated this mantra as I squeegied the water into the hole with the new pump chugging away.
It could be worse. It can always be worse...

But man....

It could be so much better right now, too...

The Parenting Tango...

Two steps forward.
One step back.
Try not to let your heart get stepped upon
too many times...

Every fear,
Every pain,
All the outcomes your too-vivid imagination can dredge up...

I don't know the steps to this dance.

I need an instructor.
Please guide my feet so I can guard my heart.
I cannot let him be trampled upon...

"I'm concerned about your son..."

Labels and stereotypes.
Cold-shoulders and bullies...

How can I protect what I must release into the world?



Let's just say that Parent-teacher conferences didn't go quite as well as I'd hoped....

One of those posts where you THOUGHT you knew where it was going, but it took on a life of its own and you are too lazy to try to find more cohesion..

And so, the freezing rain and dark skies have returned. But not before I got a good dose of what's just around the corner. I can wait a bit longer for that gorgeous weather.

Now if I could just keep the ENTIRE household healthy until Justin's family party on Sunday, I'll be golden. (typed as Corinne hacks up a lung in the family room...)

Speaking of parties, I am now 100% certain that slumber parties/sleepovers are for special occasions. And while the kids all had fun, and nobody went home early (though one boy had the phone in his hand around 3 am. I talked him down from it...) it was exhausting! The absolute best idea I had was to pawn my other kids off somewhere else. Corinne got a sleepover at Nana and Papa's and Evan got his FIRST sleepover at a friend's house (backyard neighbors!), so nobody felt left out.

My boy. Justin.... He's changed so much. I cannot believe the way he let the unplanned situations at the party just roll off his back! Things that would have ruined the party for him just 2 or 3 years ago were no big deal. Very little sleep and friends not wanting to watch the movies you picked? Getting a duplicate present and having your asthma act up? "No problem, Mommy. Let's just have fun!" He was like any average (almost) ten year old boy!

Having dealt with his emotional/anger/attention issues (Executive Functioning) for so many years, I am left wondering when or IF I'll ever be completely comfortable and accepting of the fact that he HAS matured. That all of his brain's lobes are growing at an equal rate. That he is closer to "normal" than "high maintenance." So much of my early years of parenting were spent trying to plan, plan, plan around his needs. Such a huge portion of time devoted to explaining and consoling, apologizing and worrying, crying and yelling... To find myself at the point where I EXPECT him to behave and am not SURPRISED is a daily miracle...

Not going to question a good thing. It's not like we're out of the woods with him yet. There are still issues and scars that he and I work on every evening. Organization, accountability, controlling impulses... These are remarkably better than before, but still needing extra attention.
But I try not to dwell on the negatives when it comes to my eldest. If he can make so many changes in such a short time, I am positive that in the next 2-3 years he can achieve the standards we ALL want for him.