Wednesday, December 10, 2008

How Do You Title A Day Like Yesterday?

Now let's get one thing straight - right here, right now - I love James. I adore James. I think he is one of the 5 cutest kids in the world. I chose to be his mom. I wanted to provide for him, protect him, love him, and let him grow. I would die for my son, if a decision like that ever had to be made, but right now, I'm the one dying. He has been on Adderall for the past few months because our insurance wouldn't cover the medication (that seemed to work for him) that he was prescribed back in August. Adderall . . . wasn't doing the trick, and in the past month (or maybe more), James has been having a very difficult time at school and in primary (not to even mention home!). He has been harassing the other kids, picking at their clothes, writing on their papers, taking their books away from them; he's been expressing difficulty staying on task, being quiet, finishing his work, staying in his seat, laughing and causing disruption that makes others laugh, and has been very disrespectful to his teachers: "I don't care if you go get my mom. I want to leave anyway," "No. I'm not going to do it.", putting his hands over his ears while repeating, "I can't hear you. I'm not listening." At his doctor's appointment last week, we switched his meds to a new family of medicines (the same family that he was in at the beginning of the year). He's now taking Concerta. Is it helping? I don't know. In some ways, yes. He comes home from school and instead of climbing on everything (literally) and harassing his siblings, he will now go off and play puzzles by himself for a LONG time. That's progress. But . . . on the other hand, yesterday I had to go to school, to bring him home early. I picked him up at 11:30 (although Mrs. Galler called at 10:30 - already completely frustrated.) We decided to see if the diversion of lunch would help at all. It didn't. She called me 5 minutes after they got back, reporting that he was doing jumping jacks all around the room, and would not sit down. I was babysitting a friend's kids, and took them with me to pick him up. I had to be way in control, for with them there, he had the perfect opportunity to go balistically crazy since he had an audience. I might have scared my friend's kids. I hope not, but he was flying high, and I couldn't let him get any higher. (I felt doubly guilty when she came to pick up her kids, and she talked so sweetly to them. I remember when I got to be that kind of a mom. But ever since July 23, 2004, I have had to move into being a different kind of person, a different kind of mom.) That's not to be interpreted that I am mean, for if you saw me most of the time, you would be amazed at how calm a person I can be in the face of what I'm dealing with. James was a little shocked that I wouldn't let him ride his bike home. I told him that it's not allowed to leave the school until 2:40. He spent the next 3 hours doing math homework. He was doing problems like 4 + 5, 6 + 3, and getting them right. I gave him a worksheet with bigger numbers 7 + 8 (harder to use your fingers to count on), gave him manipulatives, and he did the entire sheet on his own. Then I gave him subtraction problems. The simpler ones he did on his own, and the harder ones like 17 - 9, he used manipulatives to figure out. It was amazing! He was amazing! Remember, he is only in kindergarten. We went back to school at 2:30, and he turned in the homework I gave him to his teacher, and we picked up his bike. Then he was allowed to play. He is so smart! But oh so hard, to deal with! The other day he nearly got hit by a car. Christine, Jalen Andrew and I were walking towards the house from the mailbox, and James was riding his bike in the cul-de-sac. When he heard a car approaching the cul-de-sac he rode up into the driveway like he has been taught to do, and then just as the car was passing our driveway, he suddenly put on the speed (almost as if to chase the car) and zoomed next to it, swerved into the street - just inches from the wheel, heard Christine and I scream (the driver, who was also on the phone, also heard the scream and stopped), and James veered back into the driveway. Horrifying? Yes. And yet, it is just a slice of what I deal with on a daily basis. He is so impulsive. If he is not nearly killing himself, then he is nearly killing someone else instead. He is so impulsive! Think I'm mellow-dramatic if you must, but I know it's true, because I live it. Last night was horrible, at best. Erik didn't come home for dinner, but went straight to high council. I got a tongue lashing not soon to be forgotten by one of the female members of the family. Both females were extremely cruel in their words and their actions towards each other - one who had a cold look in her eyes through it all. One of the males was trying to keep his temper under wraps, but it kept slipping out, and then there was James. He refused to eat dinner because it had vegetables in it (it wouldn't have mattered what I made. He would have refused it anyway. As he tells me on a daily basis, "You never make anything good. Everything you make it always 'gusting!"), and he was still in his out of control mood, which made him and his brother continually clash. Frankly, I don't have the energy to recall all that happened, but the highlights involved James kicking me in the chin, the stomach, and his feet waving in my face incessantly. Please don't tell me that I should have held him, or given him attention, because I did over and over and over again, and it doesn't work. When he's acting like that, nothing conventional or kind ever works. He only stops when he gets hurt, and not any hurt because he laughs off most hurts, but he always has to do it in a big way. I was struggling so hard to control myself, so that I wouldn't hurt him. I restrained him several times, but finally let go because my kids thought I was hurting him (I really wasn't), I was hurting from the backlash I was getting from him, and I couldn't stand his crazy laugh anymore. I knew I was past feeling when I just sat and watched him pull down the dresser scarf under my nativity set that my parents gave me, slowly inching it forward with his toes. I couldn't stop him because I was so afraid to touch him, for fear that I would unleash the frustration I was feeling. Rebekah stopped him, and endured the physical assault from him for doing so. I'm so tired of the accusatory looks and comments that I get from my children. Sometimes we say to our kids, "Someday you'll understand," but the truth is, I hope my kids never have to understand. I do not wish my experience of motherhood on them or anyone else. I do love being a mom, and I do treasure up those moments of happiness and awe, but this is so hard to live day in and day out. James finally went to sleep, I think it was about 10:30, after he had locked himself out of his own room, and had worn himself out yanking on the doorknob, screaming, and pounding on all the other doors upstairs. After all that, and a few injuries to boot, he was in a place where he could actually hear me talk to him. Finally, he asked if I would unlock the door for him, and magically, with a request like that the door was unlocked. 10:30 was nice. Lately he hasn't been going to sleep until 11:00 or 12:00 or . . . He's not lethargic in the morning either. He's tired, and has a hard time waking up, but then in the moment he does awake - the harassing, the running, the climbing, the yelling, the demanding, the silliness, the not-listening begins, instantly. It's then a long day until midnight. There is no relief in dropping him off at school either. I dread the phone ringing, for fear it is the school. Yesterday morning as I approached his teacher on the playground, she pleasantly asked, "How are you?" to which I replied, "I wish that I could say that I'm relieved this morning to be dropping him off at school, but I'm not because I will worry all day about you." She smiled, and said, "Oh, don't worry about me. We'll be fine." Famous last words. I love you, James. I do. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here in our family. I can't say that I didn't know what I was in for, for your biological siblings warned me pretty well with their antics. I still chose you, or better put - we chose each other. I will always love you!(Have I mentioned how smart he is? In this picture, he had spent a LONG time organizing his cars, and categorizing them by color and placing them in the appropriate colored Twister circle)

3 comments:

kate said...

your post almost made me cry. it reminded me SO much of the kids that i would work with and i remember always thinking, i don't know how i would handle this if i was their parent. dealing with it 24/7, not knowing that at the end of the day i could go home and leave it behind until the next day. i have a lot of respect for what you're doing!

Me and Mr. P... said...

Jeanette I have been lurking on your blog for a few weeks now and I am finally taking the time to leave a response! First I want to tell you that since we first met you at the Trek I have had this secret admiration and respect for you and your family. You guys have a special spirit about you that just radiates! That being said it is no mystery that it is your family that was meant to have these 5 awesome kids (along with their challenges). My sister has a son with almost the same issues and I have always been in awe of her patience and long suffering for lack of a better word right now! You are an AMAZING person and I pray for your strength that you can endure and that the blessings you receive will be worth the sacrifices. I appreciate your honesty and sincerity in the things that you share, you are truly an example and an inspiration.
(we so enjoyed Eric's talk yesterday)

elisha perkins

Brewer's Ink said...

Thank you both. I hope I don't sound too whiny on here. Oh well, if I do; this is the life I'm living, and sometimes I've just got to write. And Elisha - glad you're not just lurking anymore - feel welcome to read and respond.