We hit a rough patch on the homework trail recently. It was one of those nights when I had to sit next to our 9 year old almost the whole time while she did her homework. It was painful and lasted right up until bedtime. Our beautiful and brilliant Adhd girl needs an absolutely barren workspace to get anything done as well as frequent check ins from me in the next room. I will ask her how many problems are left, whether she's stuck on something, how she's making out, or anything else I can think of to remind her that she's supposed to be doing her homework.
This is not unusual, from what I've read. Some nights do go better than others. Our girl has had problems shifting from one activity to the next since she was small so I have to tell her we are attacking homework at 5:30, which we do every night. I also have to tell her how much time that is from where we are currently and give warnings as to when it's time to switch. Why not just kill off the homework immediately after school? I would love to be able to get our girl into that routine and we may yet manage that in the future. It's just that for someone forced to largely sit still and behave for almost seven hours with a short recess, I figure our squirrel needs a break. I am also going under the theory that if she's in a better frame of mind, the homework will take less time.
This is assuming, she hasn't "forgot" her homework. Luckily, or unluckily?, I am the school bus so I try to double check her backpack in the parking lot before we leave. Someone once said "Trust, but verify." (Was it Reagan?) I'm not sure what we're going to do when we no longer have this luxury. The assignments themselves are online, but only some textbooks. I may have to consult with the teacher when the time comes. Leaving lunch leftovers, while gross, is not as big a deal since we do have a spare lunch bag. There is also the idea that sometimes she is going to have to take the consequences of forgetting in the hopes it will build some sense of responsibility, too.
Some nights, it just all goes to hell and I have to resort to jelly beans. We had a particularly large amount of math to kill off and it contained the dreaded "write math". These are problems in which you are asked to explain something in a sentence or two. My daughter wastes more time ranting about how much she hates it than actually getting it done. I hear this is common. The only way I could figure out how to get us both through this was to fill a shot glass with jelly beans to "help her along", while I used a write on wipe off to help her compose an answer she could then copy. Words fail to describe how much I wanted to refill that shot glass when she was done but I digress.
When you're knee deep in the struggle, it gets hard to remember the big picture. Are the grades okay overall? Have recent tests been good? I've also noticed that at least in our case, things are way better now than they were at the beginning of the school year, and certainly from the previous year. I am working on accepting that my daughter will never be free of ADHD, but I am still grateful that I believe our case is mild. Thankfully, the hellish nights are only occasional. So, dear reader, how goes the homework at your house?
Friday, August 3, 2018
Friday, July 20, 2018
Books, book, and more books
It's one of those days where I'm having trouble coming up with much to write about so here goes. Those that know me know that I have book issues. Having a daughter only made things worse by giving the addict a built in excuse to get more books. They may not know my name at the library book sales but I'm pretty sure I have some sort of name. There's that crazy lady who always overloads herself or something like that. I am there twice a year whether we need them or not, mostly not. I have more books than any one person could possibly read, although that has yet to stop me.
My daughter, mercifully, doesn't mind reading, especially about anything video game related, or Captain Underpants, but hey, it's still reading. Ironically, we've been frequently borrowing audio books from our library. I've been known to borrow the audio version of a title we already own just to help me thin the herd. Lately, I have been reading books to our daughter that are below her reading level and not her first choice just to get through them. Sometimes, we trip over a pretty good one and I feel better getting rid of something we've already read.
This morning, to my horror, she asked me to get rid of a bible from her shelf! I was tempted to call an exorcist or find some holy water but instead I agreed to relocate it. This just goes to show you how religious we are. I reminded our daughter that we are actually supposed to read it but I guess since there aren't any Pokemon in any of the gospels that I remember, I was met with eye roll number 47. She's done this to me before with other "good for you" books but having survived eight years of Catholic school, this one threw me for a bit of a loop. It looks like I'll be keeping a close eye on that moral compass.
I am assuming this point that she is looking to create more shelf space. I can't blame her since her room is basically a giant pile of books, stuffed animals, and a bed in there somewhere. More shelf space is definitely needed. Accountants are not the handiest of humans, but I have been known to improvise a few things to help with organization. Books are a lot easier to deal with than the animals, however. Our daughter has a much tougher time parting with stuffed animals than books, of course.
I'm sure if I look around, I can thin my own collection, too. It would behoove me to keep my collection limited to the classics like, Shakespeare, Camus, and Dave Barry. Ancient tax guides and textbooks should go if they haven't already. I've gone through the cookbooks so that doesn't leave much. Hopefully, by purging some nonbook items, I'll get more space to play with anyway. I just hope I end up with a decent amount of space. I've invested in a few organizers that let me stack things but they only go up one level.
On the upside, it's the only addiction I have that's non fattening.
My daughter, mercifully, doesn't mind reading, especially about anything video game related, or Captain Underpants, but hey, it's still reading. Ironically, we've been frequently borrowing audio books from our library. I've been known to borrow the audio version of a title we already own just to help me thin the herd. Lately, I have been reading books to our daughter that are below her reading level and not her first choice just to get through them. Sometimes, we trip over a pretty good one and I feel better getting rid of something we've already read.
This morning, to my horror, she asked me to get rid of a bible from her shelf! I was tempted to call an exorcist or find some holy water but instead I agreed to relocate it. This just goes to show you how religious we are. I reminded our daughter that we are actually supposed to read it but I guess since there aren't any Pokemon in any of the gospels that I remember, I was met with eye roll number 47. She's done this to me before with other "good for you" books but having survived eight years of Catholic school, this one threw me for a bit of a loop. It looks like I'll be keeping a close eye on that moral compass.
I am assuming this point that she is looking to create more shelf space. I can't blame her since her room is basically a giant pile of books, stuffed animals, and a bed in there somewhere. More shelf space is definitely needed. Accountants are not the handiest of humans, but I have been known to improvise a few things to help with organization. Books are a lot easier to deal with than the animals, however. Our daughter has a much tougher time parting with stuffed animals than books, of course.
I'm sure if I look around, I can thin my own collection, too. It would behoove me to keep my collection limited to the classics like, Shakespeare, Camus, and Dave Barry. Ancient tax guides and textbooks should go if they haven't already. I've gone through the cookbooks so that doesn't leave much. Hopefully, by purging some nonbook items, I'll get more space to play with anyway. I just hope I end up with a decent amount of space. I've invested in a few organizers that let me stack things but they only go up one level.
On the upside, it's the only addiction I have that's non fattening.
Friday, July 6, 2018
Fighting the addiction part 112
Spring break hasn't exactly been a break for me. When you live with a video game addict, days off from school can be difficult. I understand that I am not responsible to keep her majesty entertained. The problem is that, left to her own devices, she would have her face in a screen all day.
When it's too cold or miserable to be outside, I try to come up with other options. Even on playdates I'm finding that my daughter's friends are bringing their own devices! There is some small comfort in knowing that I'm not alone in this. We have resorted to playing board games as a family in the evenings when my husband gets home from work. We are board game nerds from way back and I often wonder whose DNA this is.
I also lucked out, at least briefly, in that the Easter Bunny brought someone a glitter slime kit. We are also still reading books, even if they are about video games, I don't care, it's still reading.
It makes me sad to think of all the toys this kid has in our living room that are ignored because they are not video games. I have reminded our offspring during one of the millions of parental lectures that she has completely forgotten how to enjoy anything without a screen. It reminds me of a person with a closet full of clothes complaining there's nothing to wear! My husband and I have resorted to going to a small local business that sells used games and picked up a copy of a game that we, as a family can play. Her majesty must be dragged into it but I figure them's the breaks for now.
Friday, June 22, 2018
So far so good?
I should have known any new endeavor was going to have a few bumps in the road. Things are going a bit slower than I had hoped and certainly less than perfect. I am also find myself getting a bit sidetracked. This is ironic as hell since the whole point of this adventure was to improve my daughter's ability to focus! Personally, I blame the mouse.
The result of the unauthorized party in my pantry was me cleaning the whole thing like a crime scene and also reorganizing everything into plastic boxes. It also got me looking at my other cabinets as potential havens and then they had to be cleaned out and reorganized, too. Hey, wait a minute, what about our daughter?
Oh, right, the honey bun, I did make a teeny bit of progress with our video game addict. I found these write on wipe off wall stickers. They are not the most attractive things but they don't damage the walls. Directly across and at eye level from where her majesty likes to sit and play on her computer I wrote the dreaded list. It says "Before technology, did you: get dressed, brush teeth and hair, do chores (hamper patrol, dishes in sink), eat breakfast, read for 30 minutes, and be outside for 30 minutes or Wii fit, dance, or board games.
Score one for mommy and Claire's therapist! She has adhered to this list so far twice with only moderate whining. We use this on Saturdays and days off from school. The real test is coming. Can we survive this new schedule for an entire week off for Spring break? I have a nice bottle of white waiting for me but I digress. We, as a family, have had all the willpower of last week's pancakes when it comes to this kind of stuff so naturally, any real change is going to be painful for all of us. The "No Pain No Gain" part only works when you attach enough importance to the "Gain" part to tip the scales. I'm already sitting on one side of the seesaw with my best friend, Anxiety.
Things have a way of working themselves out, God forbid I should remember that, despite the evidence. I am referring to a handwritten journal I'd been keeping in which 95 plus percent of the things I was freaking out over worked out fine. They say you can't believe everything you read, but what if you wrote it?
Score one for mommy and Claire's therapist! She has adhered to this list so far twice with only moderate whining. We use this on Saturdays and days off from school. The real test is coming. Can we survive this new schedule for an entire week off for Spring break? I have a nice bottle of white waiting for me but I digress. We, as a family, have had all the willpower of last week's pancakes when it comes to this kind of stuff so naturally, any real change is going to be painful for all of us. The "No Pain No Gain" part only works when you attach enough importance to the "Gain" part to tip the scales. I'm already sitting on one side of the seesaw with my best friend, Anxiety.
Things have a way of working themselves out, God forbid I should remember that, despite the evidence. I am referring to a handwritten journal I'd been keeping in which 95 plus percent of the things I was freaking out over worked out fine. They say you can't believe everything you read, but what if you wrote it?
Tuesday, June 5, 2018
Promises, promises
Well, here it is, six months into the new year and so far I've managed to write every day during the week, at least. It hasn't been easy coming up with ideas, weird since I live with a walking wealth of material. I am embarking on a research project for executive skills. I have a long way to go but I am making progress. We all could use some reminder about these "new habits" we are trying to acquire. Instead of those "Live, Love, Laugh" decals people put on their walls, I need ones that say "Are your dishes in the sink?" and "Have you hugged your spouse today?".
One thing that my source of inspiration reminded me of was how much fun she is the morning. My little fourth grader is about as lovable as a cactus before school. This particular morning we were grousing about having to pick out clothes, among other injustices. Since she was a toddler I have always tried to limit her choices to between two things in the morning but no, even that was too much for her majesty. Then I remembered the advice we received from her specialist, make life as organized as possible. I'm sure plenty of you are already doing this but it looks like it is now necessary to get our outfits picked out in advance. As usual, we're just late to the party.
I would love to have one of those California closet sort of bedrooms for all of us but sadly, that is way not my house. Our daughter's room is a small library with stuffed animals, a bed and dust. Her closet could best be described as "groovy" or maybe "totally tubular". Our house, like its owners, is a bit older than most. I am not able to put one of those hanging tiered shelves in the closet so it looks like I'll have to see if I can figure out a substitute. We also get to have to have to establish another new habit, yay! How many write on wipe off things can you put up before it starts to feel like we live in a memo pad?
I dream, of course, of that mythical creature, "the clean room" like any other mom. Luckily, I can attach a profit motive to this dream. If I can convince her majesty that she can sell some of her old junk at our yard sale and make money, I have a shot at thinning the herd of crap, and dare I say it?, see a clean dresser surface? Yeah, I know, get your head out of the clouds! We dream big around here. It looks like more things will have to disappear by stealth. I'm waiting for things to start emitting distress signals and suddenly become fascinating to my girl. She seems to "know" when I'm thinking of selling some old toy.
Generally, despite popular opinion, I try not to get rid of anything that is not mine without consent. I'm sure my spouse would make Sanford and Son look like a shaker family. It's always been up to me to bring up the subject of disposition with him. I'm guessing it's because my family has had yard sales since I was a kid. Whatever we were done with was either sold or passed along to someone else. We also shopped at flea markets regularly. Economic sense has no stigma. I'm hoping I can set our daughter up with her own table, assuming she can sit in one spot that long. (See "dream big" sentence earlier.)
What's the big deal about the yard sale? It certainly isn't the money, although that helps. It's the cheap excuse to see our friends and the aftermath. We plan breakfast that day, I end up getting my garage cleaned out, and everything we want to get rid of gets herded into one place. I look forward to having more space and hopefully, the less crap we have, the easier it will be to organize, right? While I'm fantasizing, I may as well go the whole hog and think that maybe our girl will catch on to the concept of selling her old things to make money, making proper change, and if I get really crazy, the idea that working gets you money! I'll keep you posted on this dream, wish me luck.
One thing that my source of inspiration reminded me of was how much fun she is the morning. My little fourth grader is about as lovable as a cactus before school. This particular morning we were grousing about having to pick out clothes, among other injustices. Since she was a toddler I have always tried to limit her choices to between two things in the morning but no, even that was too much for her majesty. Then I remembered the advice we received from her specialist, make life as organized as possible. I'm sure plenty of you are already doing this but it looks like it is now necessary to get our outfits picked out in advance. As usual, we're just late to the party.
I would love to have one of those California closet sort of bedrooms for all of us but sadly, that is way not my house. Our daughter's room is a small library with stuffed animals, a bed and dust. Her closet could best be described as "groovy" or maybe "totally tubular". Our house, like its owners, is a bit older than most. I am not able to put one of those hanging tiered shelves in the closet so it looks like I'll have to see if I can figure out a substitute. We also get to have to have to establish another new habit, yay! How many write on wipe off things can you put up before it starts to feel like we live in a memo pad?
I dream, of course, of that mythical creature, "the clean room" like any other mom. Luckily, I can attach a profit motive to this dream. If I can convince her majesty that she can sell some of her old junk at our yard sale and make money, I have a shot at thinning the herd of crap, and dare I say it?, see a clean dresser surface? Yeah, I know, get your head out of the clouds! We dream big around here. It looks like more things will have to disappear by stealth. I'm waiting for things to start emitting distress signals and suddenly become fascinating to my girl. She seems to "know" when I'm thinking of selling some old toy.
Generally, despite popular opinion, I try not to get rid of anything that is not mine without consent. I'm sure my spouse would make Sanford and Son look like a shaker family. It's always been up to me to bring up the subject of disposition with him. I'm guessing it's because my family has had yard sales since I was a kid. Whatever we were done with was either sold or passed along to someone else. We also shopped at flea markets regularly. Economic sense has no stigma. I'm hoping I can set our daughter up with her own table, assuming she can sit in one spot that long. (See "dream big" sentence earlier.)
What's the big deal about the yard sale? It certainly isn't the money, although that helps. It's the cheap excuse to see our friends and the aftermath. We plan breakfast that day, I end up getting my garage cleaned out, and everything we want to get rid of gets herded into one place. I look forward to having more space and hopefully, the less crap we have, the easier it will be to organize, right? While I'm fantasizing, I may as well go the whole hog and think that maybe our girl will catch on to the concept of selling her old things to make money, making proper change, and if I get really crazy, the idea that working gets you money! I'll keep you posted on this dream, wish me luck.
Tuesday, May 22, 2018
EEEEEEEEEEEKK, @#$%×÷!!!!!
There was a party in my pantry recently, and I was not invited. In hindsight, I should have suspected it from the beginning but my brain just didn't want to admit it. I discovered a torn open package of muffin mix on a shelf. Don't ask why I thought my husband had some strange accident and didn't clean it up. I assumed this was because he frequently does things that make no sense to me, is not exactly famous for cleaning up after himself, and we live in a house with three people. The process of elimination usually fingers our daughter but since we don't keep cheese sticks in there, she was ruled out. Thus began my brief trip down the river denial. Roughly two days later I was confronted by irrefutable evidence. I found what we'e definitely NOT chocolate jimmies on my counter. What the F??!! OMG!! EEEEEEWW!!
I felt violated, and rather skeeved out. This was also a personal affront to my housekeeping. I thought these things only happened to "dirty" people, you know, the kind you see on the show "Hoarders". I was able to get a grip long enough to contact the exterminator. My spouse and daughter were oblivious to my freak out, probably because I was upset enough for all of us. Since this was a weekend I was forced to wait until Monday for the cavalry. That left me with the task of cleaning up the crime scene until then.
It turns out that the pantry is the computer keyboard of our house. We use it every day and don't realize how bad it gets until we need to clean it. I began an archaeological dig in my own kitchen, no shovel required. I discovered a "poopageddon" on 2 shelves, a shredded paper bag, 2 chewed on granola bars and a violated pudding cup. (See `What the F??!!` sentence above.)
I pulled out everything we had in that small closet, which, by the way, is really smaller than my linen closet near my bathroom. Somehow I managed to defy the laws of physics and fit a colossal amount of crap in there. I discovered a frightening amount of plastic shopping bags for one thing. I had a daymare about my daughter telling her friends one day 'They found mom under a huge pile of plastic Shoprite bags, she was crazy!'. Suffice it to say, the heard was thinned.
I've heard the term 'vintage' applied to wines, pantry items, not so much. If the question 'Who was president when we bought this?', strikes you as a legitimate question when you're sorting through your pantry, grab a trash bag, close your eyes, and heave ho. Parting is such sweet sorrow, especially when you find the idea of throwing out FOOD contrary to every fiber of your being. Remind yourself how expensive a hospital stay can be versus that can in your hand.
The purge spread to the vitamins and medicines we keep and continued to a neighboring microwave cart. I have to admit, I wasn't thrilled about how it happened but it was needed and I felt a lot better when it was done.
It turns out, I was wrong about a few things. When the exterminator arrived, he set out some old fashioned mouse traps, nothing with any more technology than I'd seen on Bugs Bunny. Rodents, it seems, are looking for warmth and moisture. Cleanliness, has nothing to do with it. The little bastards were probably coming in through the garage, whose doors could use new rubber bottoms. I never did find a mousehole either. Thanks, Bugs.
EPILOGUE:
This hunting and crime scene like cleaning continued for about two or three more long weeks. Then it finally happened. I was out at a gym early one morning and when I got back there it was. The body of the 3 ounce field mouse was on the kitchen counter (dude really - the counter?!) in a Chinese food container, packaged like nuclear waste. My startled husband beat it to death with a shoe once the trap went off. Ding dong the mouse is dead and there was much rejoicing!
I felt violated, and rather skeeved out. This was also a personal affront to my housekeeping. I thought these things only happened to "dirty" people, you know, the kind you see on the show "Hoarders". I was able to get a grip long enough to contact the exterminator. My spouse and daughter were oblivious to my freak out, probably because I was upset enough for all of us. Since this was a weekend I was forced to wait until Monday for the cavalry. That left me with the task of cleaning up the crime scene until then.
It turns out that the pantry is the computer keyboard of our house. We use it every day and don't realize how bad it gets until we need to clean it. I began an archaeological dig in my own kitchen, no shovel required. I discovered a "poopageddon" on 2 shelves, a shredded paper bag, 2 chewed on granola bars and a violated pudding cup. (See `What the F??!!` sentence above.)
I pulled out everything we had in that small closet, which, by the way, is really smaller than my linen closet near my bathroom. Somehow I managed to defy the laws of physics and fit a colossal amount of crap in there. I discovered a frightening amount of plastic shopping bags for one thing. I had a daymare about my daughter telling her friends one day 'They found mom under a huge pile of plastic Shoprite bags, she was crazy!'. Suffice it to say, the heard was thinned.
I've heard the term 'vintage' applied to wines, pantry items, not so much. If the question 'Who was president when we bought this?', strikes you as a legitimate question when you're sorting through your pantry, grab a trash bag, close your eyes, and heave ho. Parting is such sweet sorrow, especially when you find the idea of throwing out FOOD contrary to every fiber of your being. Remind yourself how expensive a hospital stay can be versus that can in your hand.
The purge spread to the vitamins and medicines we keep and continued to a neighboring microwave cart. I have to admit, I wasn't thrilled about how it happened but it was needed and I felt a lot better when it was done.
It turns out, I was wrong about a few things. When the exterminator arrived, he set out some old fashioned mouse traps, nothing with any more technology than I'd seen on Bugs Bunny. Rodents, it seems, are looking for warmth and moisture. Cleanliness, has nothing to do with it. The little bastards were probably coming in through the garage, whose doors could use new rubber bottoms. I never did find a mousehole either. Thanks, Bugs.
EPILOGUE:
This hunting and crime scene like cleaning continued for about two or three more long weeks. Then it finally happened. I was out at a gym early one morning and when I got back there it was. The body of the 3 ounce field mouse was on the kitchen counter (dude really - the counter?!) in a Chinese food container, packaged like nuclear waste. My startled husband beat it to death with a shoe once the trap went off. Ding dong the mouse is dead and there was much rejoicing!
Wednesday, May 2, 2018
The new old crusade
God forbid anything be simple. I'm going to be sprinkling my posts with my latest mission. Once again, it's all about the honeybun. I am, oddly enough, "lucky" enough to be unemployed so I have time to do this. Our beautiful, brilliant girl has been officially declared an ADHD kid. What does that mean? I don't know either, but I aims to find out, pardner. Hence, the new mission of research will begin.
I will be hanging out with my new best pal, Google. I may also have to treat my local librarian to a few drinks before this is over, too. So far, I have identified my quarry. I plan to begin with what our specialist called "executive functioning". What this refers to is one's ability to initiate, plan, and follow through on a task. Think the execution of a game plan, not a white guy in a suit driving a bmw.
I have discovered there are differing opinions on what exactly Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder is in the first place. Some are claiming there is no such thing. Personally, I take issue with the word Disorder. It implies there is something "wrong" with my child's brain. I have explained to our daughter, it's a label grownups slap on people when they don't understand your brain. First and foremost I don't want my girl thinking there is something "wrong" with her. This is very important to me. Her brain is just different, that's all.
The specialist explained it this way. She occasionally gets "gunk" on neurological pathways in her brain. Medication can help clear these up. Notice I said "can". A wonderful side effect of us all being unique like snowflakes, not all medications work. It turns out, for those who believe, there are 6 different types of ADHD and each one responds differently to medicine. Now I get to research which kind I'm dealing with.
Mercifully, I was pointed to an author named "Amen" who has done a lot of research on this topic. I will keep you, dear reader, posted on what I find out. There is also some good to come out of this for someone's electronic addiction. When I asked our girl what she knew about ADHD, besides her favorite author having it, she said "My brain goes crazy". I used this chance to explain why too much screen time was bad for her brain. I told her that when you want an overcaffeinated squirrel to calm down, you don't put him with another excited squirrel! She needs to be reminded a lot of how the video games affect her. Whether she really understood that remains to be seen but she has tried to abide by some therapeutic rules we've set up, so far, anyway.
We gave her a list of what needs to get done first before screen time. Stay tuned.......
I will be hanging out with my new best pal, Google. I may also have to treat my local librarian to a few drinks before this is over, too. So far, I have identified my quarry. I plan to begin with what our specialist called "executive functioning". What this refers to is one's ability to initiate, plan, and follow through on a task. Think the execution of a game plan, not a white guy in a suit driving a bmw.
I have discovered there are differing opinions on what exactly Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder is in the first place. Some are claiming there is no such thing. Personally, I take issue with the word Disorder. It implies there is something "wrong" with my child's brain. I have explained to our daughter, it's a label grownups slap on people when they don't understand your brain. First and foremost I don't want my girl thinking there is something "wrong" with her. This is very important to me. Her brain is just different, that's all.
The specialist explained it this way. She occasionally gets "gunk" on neurological pathways in her brain. Medication can help clear these up. Notice I said "can". A wonderful side effect of us all being unique like snowflakes, not all medications work. It turns out, for those who believe, there are 6 different types of ADHD and each one responds differently to medicine. Now I get to research which kind I'm dealing with.
Mercifully, I was pointed to an author named "Amen" who has done a lot of research on this topic. I will keep you, dear reader, posted on what I find out. There is also some good to come out of this for someone's electronic addiction. When I asked our girl what she knew about ADHD, besides her favorite author having it, she said "My brain goes crazy". I used this chance to explain why too much screen time was bad for her brain. I told her that when you want an overcaffeinated squirrel to calm down, you don't put him with another excited squirrel! She needs to be reminded a lot of how the video games affect her. Whether she really understood that remains to be seen but she has tried to abide by some therapeutic rules we've set up, so far, anyway.
We gave her a list of what needs to get done first before screen time. Stay tuned.......
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