In honour of National Children's Mental Health Week, I bring you a snapshot of my life with my amazing 7 year old child, who happens to have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and Anxiety Disorder. She may also have Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder; we're still in the investigative process with that. (FASD) Although she rates 6 out of 8 characteristics for Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, (ADHD) she isn't "bad" enough to be considered ADHD. FASD and ADHD manifest in similar ways anyway. Potato-Potahto.
My little girl's birth mom admitted to crack cocaine use and drinking alcohol while pregnant. We knew before we adopted the Kid that we could have some challenges, researched it and decided to adopt the Kid anyway. She is the child God wanted us to have. I know that in my heart and my soul, and she is the reason that the first adoption fell through. God wanted us to have the Kid instead.
The Kid's OCD and Anxiety are twins that operate in tandem. When her anxiety gets worse, so does her OCD. Things need to be calm and consistent at home, and mom has to be calm and unstressed or things go off the rails fast. The Kid is an empath, and she feeds off stress and tension in the house. The last few months in our lives have been uncertain and chaotic, and I have learned the hard way that I need to keep my stress under control for the Kid's well-being as well as my own.
So what does OCD look like? A million little routines that HAVE to take place in a set order in a set way, or the Kid can't cope. For example, food cannot touch, it cannot be broken, and she can't use the same utensil for two different things. If I send pudding and soup in her lunch, she needs two spoons. Washing the spoon out isn't good enough-she needs two separate spoons. If there is even one corner broken on a cracker, she won't eat it. If the granola bar breaks in half in transit, she won't eat it. She fixates on certain things, so for the last 3 months, it was pasta with butter and cheese every single day in her lunch, except the day that she has a hot lunch. Monday-Thursday for most of this school year, she ate pasta with butter and cheese. Some days, I'd sneak in a sandwich or alphaghetti, but for the most part, it was pasta with butter and cheese. Sometime last week, we were done with pasta and cheese. It can happen that fast. The obsession starts, has to run its course and then it's done.
The special ed teacher last year told me I was enabling her obsession by packing her lunch that way. If enabling that piece of OCD means my child eats lunch every day, I can own that. She has never been able to cope or function if she was hungry. She WILL NOT EAT if her lunch is messed with-found that out in Kindergarten when the school was punishing her every day for talking instead of eating. Turns out a kid was trashing her lunch every day, so she couldn't eat, so she talked instead. Move the kid, problem fixed, she started eating. It was my first clue that we had a challenge to deal with.
Hair must be brushed before teeth. I found that out the hard way when I tried to hurry things along one morning and tried brushing her hair while she brushed her teeth. She freaked and locked herself in the bathroom for 20 minutes. In the winter, the order is coat, boots, hat, mitts, scarf and all must be on before we open the door. She will never be able to put her hat and mitts on in the car. Stuffies need to be in a certain place on her bed, things need to be in a certain place in her room. There are a myriad of rules that help the Kid cope with life, and some of them drive me batty, but I've learned to accept them.
The more worrisome aspect of her OCD, though, is her fixation on people. She will zero in on one person to the exclusion of everyone else. In Senior Kindergarten, one of her friends moved on to Grade 1. The Kid fixated on her to the exclusion of everyone else. It made for a tough school year start until it ran its course. She has also fixated on an older boy who used to be a lunch helper. He encouraged a game of chase with her which eventually had most of the school helping her find him, trying to stop him etc. It was innocent fun, except for a kid with OCD it became her lunch routine. the older boy got tired of being chased every day and put a halt to it, except for the OCD kid, it was still a fixation. Christmas break intervened and she didn't see him for a couple of weeks. The teacher thought I was overreacting about the OCD at first, and downplayed my concern about the chase game-but came to understand that in the Kid's mind, it wasn't a game.
Anxiety makes her check on her possessions. Anxiety makes her so upset that she's awake at 0230 hrs the night before a presentation. Anxiety had her in full-blown hysteria because she was afraid she'd left a favorite stuffy in the car, and was terrified that someone would steal it. I had to take her out to the car to reassure her. Anxiety brought that same stuffy in a zippered carry-all to ride on rides at the fall fair because it couldn't be left at home or in the car. Bunny came on the rides. Anxiety almost got her killed last summer when she left Bunny on a table at summer camp, and nearly bolted straight into 4 lanes of rush hour traffic to go back and get him. Anxiety can increase the OCD reactions. She's only 7-what happens when puberty hits?
OCD and Anxiety are not something she can snap out of. They are as much a part of her as her blue eyes and long legs. They do not define who she is, but they do explain how she reacts. I educate people about her characteristics, and I will help the Kid understand. As a family, we will learn and understand how her mind works. They are part of who she is, granted, but it doesn't change anything. My kid is still amazing and I love her. People will need to understand that, or they will have to answer to me, and you don't mess with mama bear.
Showing posts with label ADHD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ADHD. Show all posts
Monday, May 7, 2012
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Tipping the Balance
I am a coper. I am the person you want in a crisis, because I can calmly deal with things. I go into efficiency mode, and deal with what needs to be dealt with. Now granted, I usually fall apart about 2 weeks later, but in the moment, I'm the person you want by your side. I have sung at the funerals of 2 of my aunts, some of my friends' parents and managed to get through things professionally. I am a coper.
Sometimes, though, it's the little things that can throw you. Mornings in my house can be a challenge. ADHD/OCD and Anxiety in a 6 year old fashionista do not make for calm and easy mornings. If I had a dollar for every "just a second" in my day, I could pay off our mortgage. Getting her up, dressed, fed and out the door to school on time takes more military precision than D-Day, plus alot of cajoling, reminding and the occasional threat. I have walked out of the room, gone upstairs, closed the bathroom door and let loose a primal scream on more than one occasion. It's better to scream at the shower curtain than my daughter, especially about something she can't help, but I am a trained soprano, so the scream is kinda loud, ya know?
My mom has had several recurrences of squamous cell carcinoma-aka skin cancer. It's ugly, it's invasive and it's fast growing. And if nothing else convinces you of the need for sun block, watching one of these things get cut out of your mom's head will do it. Watching 4 of them being cut out, and telling her to catch the blood drip after will do it for sure. After the last stint of surgery, the surgeon recommended radiation to fry the remaining cancer cells and convince them to go away. Since last week, every weekday mom and I trek to the cancer centre near our home so she can get zapped. It takes us longer to walk from the parking lot than it takes for her to have the actual treatment, but for 6 weeks, we'll make the daily round trip.
My mom is 85, and I know my time with her is finite. I've known it since we buried my dad 22 years ago. There's something about seeing the name of the other parent on the tombstone, with a blank space for the date that makes that clear. She's had a rough few months with health. While we've talked about her funeral and her wishes, I try not to think about that eventuality. Sometimes, though, I hit a tipping point.
Last week was school picture day. My kid is a blue eyed brunette who looks fabulous against a blue background, so I chose the blue background for her picture. The problem is, my child is currently fixated on all things black. She only wants to wear black clothing, she wants to paint her room black, I made her a winter hat that was black with sequins because the likelihood is much better that she will actually wear the thing. The flip side to this current favorite colour, of course, is that the previous favorite colour is so last season...and that happened to be blue. When she found out that I had chosen blue, she pitched a fit that may have triggered the earthquake in Turkey (no disrespect or mockery intended, may God protect them). According to her, "none of her clothes will look good against blue" (although she was planning on wearing a red and black top) and she didn't like blue and she wasn't going to smile and that was it, and then I couldn't understand what she said because she was caterwauling and screaming at the top of her lungs.
And I burst into tears. It suddenly occurred to me that this might be the last school picture my mom gets to see, and I wanted it to look nice. I don't know that my mom won't be here next year. But when you hang out in the cancer centre daily, reality stares you in the face. Some of these people won't make it through. My mother in law didn't. My friend Andrea didn't. My cousin-by-marriage Joe didn't. My aunt Betty didn't. My friend Ellen didn't. My friend's mom Edelgarde didn't. Cancer sucks.
And so, while I've been coping and managing, a meltdown over a blue background sent me over the edge. Because sometimes, it's the little things that tip the balance. I cried the tears I had been pretending didn't need to be cried and I let the scared kid come out for a minute before the competent adult took over again. And it was okay.
Sometimes, though, it's the little things that can throw you. Mornings in my house can be a challenge. ADHD/OCD and Anxiety in a 6 year old fashionista do not make for calm and easy mornings. If I had a dollar for every "just a second" in my day, I could pay off our mortgage. Getting her up, dressed, fed and out the door to school on time takes more military precision than D-Day, plus alot of cajoling, reminding and the occasional threat. I have walked out of the room, gone upstairs, closed the bathroom door and let loose a primal scream on more than one occasion. It's better to scream at the shower curtain than my daughter, especially about something she can't help, but I am a trained soprano, so the scream is kinda loud, ya know?
My mom has had several recurrences of squamous cell carcinoma-aka skin cancer. It's ugly, it's invasive and it's fast growing. And if nothing else convinces you of the need for sun block, watching one of these things get cut out of your mom's head will do it. Watching 4 of them being cut out, and telling her to catch the blood drip after will do it for sure. After the last stint of surgery, the surgeon recommended radiation to fry the remaining cancer cells and convince them to go away. Since last week, every weekday mom and I trek to the cancer centre near our home so she can get zapped. It takes us longer to walk from the parking lot than it takes for her to have the actual treatment, but for 6 weeks, we'll make the daily round trip.
My mom is 85, and I know my time with her is finite. I've known it since we buried my dad 22 years ago. There's something about seeing the name of the other parent on the tombstone, with a blank space for the date that makes that clear. She's had a rough few months with health. While we've talked about her funeral and her wishes, I try not to think about that eventuality. Sometimes, though, I hit a tipping point.
Last week was school picture day. My kid is a blue eyed brunette who looks fabulous against a blue background, so I chose the blue background for her picture. The problem is, my child is currently fixated on all things black. She only wants to wear black clothing, she wants to paint her room black, I made her a winter hat that was black with sequins because the likelihood is much better that she will actually wear the thing. The flip side to this current favorite colour, of course, is that the previous favorite colour is so last season...and that happened to be blue. When she found out that I had chosen blue, she pitched a fit that may have triggered the earthquake in Turkey (no disrespect or mockery intended, may God protect them). According to her, "none of her clothes will look good against blue" (although she was planning on wearing a red and black top) and she didn't like blue and she wasn't going to smile and that was it, and then I couldn't understand what she said because she was caterwauling and screaming at the top of her lungs.
And I burst into tears. It suddenly occurred to me that this might be the last school picture my mom gets to see, and I wanted it to look nice. I don't know that my mom won't be here next year. But when you hang out in the cancer centre daily, reality stares you in the face. Some of these people won't make it through. My mother in law didn't. My friend Andrea didn't. My cousin-by-marriage Joe didn't. My aunt Betty didn't. My friend Ellen didn't. My friend's mom Edelgarde didn't. Cancer sucks.
And so, while I've been coping and managing, a meltdown over a blue background sent me over the edge. Because sometimes, it's the little things that tip the balance. I cried the tears I had been pretending didn't need to be cried and I let the scared kid come out for a minute before the competent adult took over again. And it was okay.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Little Things
This post was inspired by Laura Wright's new Blog The ODD Mom. Laura has just started blogging, and she's on my must-read list. Go check her out.
My daughter has ADHD, OCD and Anxiety. Surprisingly, she can handle the big things pretty well-took my mother in law's death very well, and when my mother fell when she was there, she helped grandma bandage her hand (and injury that required 28 stitches to sew that skin back on-peeled it off the back of her hand) and then tried to clean up the blood for Grandma. Big things don't seem to phase her.
Her OCD and Anxiety means that little things, on the other hand, can throw her right into a tailspin. We had a meltdown in a store last week because she was in a panic about whether her stuffed bunny was in the car or had been forgotten. She bolted from me one time, and I caught her a nano-second before she ran into 4 lanes of busy rush-hour traffic because Bunny had been forgotten on a table at summer camp across the road. Barbies must be naked before they are put away for the night. They must go in a certain order into the box, and clothes must be below the dolls. She can't cope if it isn't done that way. Her hair is brushed before she brushes her teeth and she once locked herself in the bathroom for 20 minutes because I tried to hurry things along and brushed her hair while she was brushing her teeth. Her clothes go on in a certain order. She needs a clean spoon if she eats more than one thing requiring a spoon.
Her anxiety can be extreme. "But what if" enters into many conversations. She should go work for the Pentagon or CSIS-she can dream up scenarios that wouldn't occur to other people. Some of them are funny ("but what if someone breaks into the car and steals Bunny?" "Honey, if someone breaks into the car, Bunny is the last thing they'll be looking for." ) and some of them break my heart. We were going to a fall fair last weekend and she was having a meltdown because she only wanted one of us to go with her, and the other one had to stay home. She didn't care which one, but someone had to stay. We eventually found out that it was because she wanted someone to stay in the house to protect Bunny. Problem solved-Bunny came along in a zippered carryall bag. It took over an hour of her pleading with us before we found out. "Why do you want one of us to stay." "Because" "Because why" "I can't tell you." "Well then I can't stay home." "Please...." "Tell us why" "Because" "Because is a preposition not an answer-tell us why we need to understand" "I can't" and so it went...
I drove to Welland, Ontario and back yesterday (2 hours each way) for my friend's mom's funeral. I dropped the kid at school and left, and had arranged for one of her friend's moms to pick her up after school for a playdate until I could get home. Vampira left her hairband ("her most favorite one in the whole world") at her friend's house and she was starting to panic. I called, talked to the little girl's dad and asked if they could bring it to school in the morning. No problem, I'm putting it in the backpack now. Crisis averted, kid went to sleep.
Fast forward to this morning and kid was trotting to school so she could get her hairband back. The little friend goes in a different door, so we waited by the door she goes in. When the bell rang, the little girl hadn't shown up yet, and Vampira was in a panic. She has a test today that we have worked all week to get ready for. When we left the house this morning, she was good to go. She knew the words, she could spell the words, she could write the words, she could recognize the words if I spelt the words...and I'm afraid it's all gone to pot because a hairband. Her brain may be stuck in the hairband loop all day.
She will have to learn to recognize and manage her OCD. People with older OCD kids say that it is possible and it will come. My little girl is 6 (okay 6 1/2) and she doesn't have the cognitive ability to recognize and interrupt the pattern. All she knows is that her hairband was supposed to be at school and it wasn't. Hopefully, the little friend was just late and all was well at recess, hairband returned to its rightful owner, or I will be heading to the accessories store after school.
Part of my job as her mom is to minimize her stressors. Sometimes that means sending 3 spoons in her lunch because she has soup, pudding and applesauce and can't use the same spoon. Sometimes it means walking her back to the car to show her her stuffed bunny is sitting waiting for her. And sometimes, it means buying a new hairband. Someone who was supposed to have training in children's mental health issues thought I was enabling her compulsion by packing different spoons which told me she didn't understand OCD. While it may be enabling to an extent, it's also making sure that Vampira will eat her lunch. She won't use the same spoon, and it doesn't matter if you wash it in between. I have bigger mountains to die on, so I pack three spoons.
I'm meeting with her teacher after school today just to introduce myself, introduce the kid's challenges and commit to working together. One of her other teachers commented a couple of days ago that a little thing like where she was going to sit really got her stressed. I'm glad the school community is starting to see it. If they can't I'll educate them and we'll work together.
I just hope the bloody hairband showed up...
My daughter has ADHD, OCD and Anxiety. Surprisingly, she can handle the big things pretty well-took my mother in law's death very well, and when my mother fell when she was there, she helped grandma bandage her hand (and injury that required 28 stitches to sew that skin back on-peeled it off the back of her hand) and then tried to clean up the blood for Grandma. Big things don't seem to phase her.
Her OCD and Anxiety means that little things, on the other hand, can throw her right into a tailspin. We had a meltdown in a store last week because she was in a panic about whether her stuffed bunny was in the car or had been forgotten. She bolted from me one time, and I caught her a nano-second before she ran into 4 lanes of busy rush-hour traffic because Bunny had been forgotten on a table at summer camp across the road. Barbies must be naked before they are put away for the night. They must go in a certain order into the box, and clothes must be below the dolls. She can't cope if it isn't done that way. Her hair is brushed before she brushes her teeth and she once locked herself in the bathroom for 20 minutes because I tried to hurry things along and brushed her hair while she was brushing her teeth. Her clothes go on in a certain order. She needs a clean spoon if she eats more than one thing requiring a spoon.
Her anxiety can be extreme. "But what if" enters into many conversations. She should go work for the Pentagon or CSIS-she can dream up scenarios that wouldn't occur to other people. Some of them are funny ("but what if someone breaks into the car and steals Bunny?" "Honey, if someone breaks into the car, Bunny is the last thing they'll be looking for." ) and some of them break my heart. We were going to a fall fair last weekend and she was having a meltdown because she only wanted one of us to go with her, and the other one had to stay home. She didn't care which one, but someone had to stay. We eventually found out that it was because she wanted someone to stay in the house to protect Bunny. Problem solved-Bunny came along in a zippered carryall bag. It took over an hour of her pleading with us before we found out. "Why do you want one of us to stay." "Because" "Because why" "I can't tell you." "Well then I can't stay home." "Please...." "Tell us why" "Because" "Because is a preposition not an answer-tell us why we need to understand" "I can't" and so it went...
I drove to Welland, Ontario and back yesterday (2 hours each way) for my friend's mom's funeral. I dropped the kid at school and left, and had arranged for one of her friend's moms to pick her up after school for a playdate until I could get home. Vampira left her hairband ("her most favorite one in the whole world") at her friend's house and she was starting to panic. I called, talked to the little girl's dad and asked if they could bring it to school in the morning. No problem, I'm putting it in the backpack now. Crisis averted, kid went to sleep.
Fast forward to this morning and kid was trotting to school so she could get her hairband back. The little friend goes in a different door, so we waited by the door she goes in. When the bell rang, the little girl hadn't shown up yet, and Vampira was in a panic. She has a test today that we have worked all week to get ready for. When we left the house this morning, she was good to go. She knew the words, she could spell the words, she could write the words, she could recognize the words if I spelt the words...and I'm afraid it's all gone to pot because a hairband. Her brain may be stuck in the hairband loop all day.
She will have to learn to recognize and manage her OCD. People with older OCD kids say that it is possible and it will come. My little girl is 6 (okay 6 1/2) and she doesn't have the cognitive ability to recognize and interrupt the pattern. All she knows is that her hairband was supposed to be at school and it wasn't. Hopefully, the little friend was just late and all was well at recess, hairband returned to its rightful owner, or I will be heading to the accessories store after school.
Part of my job as her mom is to minimize her stressors. Sometimes that means sending 3 spoons in her lunch because she has soup, pudding and applesauce and can't use the same spoon. Sometimes it means walking her back to the car to show her her stuffed bunny is sitting waiting for her. And sometimes, it means buying a new hairband. Someone who was supposed to have training in children's mental health issues thought I was enabling her compulsion by packing different spoons which told me she didn't understand OCD. While it may be enabling to an extent, it's also making sure that Vampira will eat her lunch. She won't use the same spoon, and it doesn't matter if you wash it in between. I have bigger mountains to die on, so I pack three spoons.
I'm meeting with her teacher after school today just to introduce myself, introduce the kid's challenges and commit to working together. One of her other teachers commented a couple of days ago that a little thing like where she was going to sit really got her stressed. I'm glad the school community is starting to see it. If they can't I'll educate them and we'll work together.
I just hope the bloody hairband showed up...
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Grade 1
My little girl started Grade 1 today. She wore her sparkly new shoes, her sparkly top, her jeans with sequins on them and her sparkly belt. She had her Hannah Montana backpack and lunch bag and was more than a little terrified.
My daughter suffers from Anxiety disorder, OCD and ADHD. She may or may not be FASD as well, but we have to wait until next March to have that confirmed. The labels explain the why she is, but not the whose she is. They are part of her, but I'm not going to let them define her.
School is tough on my kid. She's a worrier. She is a perfectionist and she'd rather say she doesn't know than to get an answer wrong. Her OCD means that things have to be done a certain way every time, and if things change unexpectedly she can be thrown off for the day. IF something has been promised, then it must happen as promised or she can't cope. Life is full of unexpected changes, so I've tried to mitigate that as much as possible. If there is only a possibility of something happening, I don't mention it until it becomes a certainty.
My little girl is very intuitive. She knows when someone likes her, and she knows when someone doesn't. She wants everyone to like her. That's going to be hard on her-in fact, it already has been. One of the challenges with OCD is sometimes she fixates, and sometimes it's on a person. (If I never hear another word about Hannah Montana I'll be a happy person) If the person is someone that she has decided is her new BFF, and it's news to the other person, we have a problem. I have to let the fixation run its course, but I have a sad little girl in the meantime when her adoration is not returned.
We had a couple of really bad days this weekend, because school was weighing on my little girl's mind. She thought she had to know everything for Grade 1 the first day of Grade 1. Since I'm her mom, and I know nothing, I solved the problem by hauling out the Grade 1 and Kindergarten curriculum books I'd already purchased. We started with Kindergarten, and worked through some pages so she could see how much she had learned. Then I asked her whether she had learned things in Junior Kindergarten or Senior Kindergarten. She's a bright kid, and figured out the pattern quickly-that learning builds from stuff you already know. Then I grabbed the Grade 1 book and we flipped through some pages. She quickly discovered that she already knows a bunch of Grade 1 stuff too. Problem solved, at least for now.
I'm worried about test anxiety. I'm worried that the school will use the labels to define her, rather than to help her be her best. I'm worried that my kid will be stressed and anxious. She had a rough year last year, but over the summer, I got my sunny bunny back. I don't want to lose that kid again.
The school, teachers and principal will just have to get used to this face because they are going to see it alot. A good friend of mine, whose son has Downs Syndrome, tells teachers that "my child can't rise to low expectations." I like that. Yes, my kid has some challenges, but that is all they are. She's a kind, sweet, smart, loving, funny little fashionista with strong opinions. She will do great things, with a bit of help, a lot of support and love in abundance (and maybe the occasional trip by a stuffed bunny in a backpack.)
My little girl started Grade 1 today, and I couldn't be more proud.
My daughter suffers from Anxiety disorder, OCD and ADHD. She may or may not be FASD as well, but we have to wait until next March to have that confirmed. The labels explain the why she is, but not the whose she is. They are part of her, but I'm not going to let them define her.
School is tough on my kid. She's a worrier. She is a perfectionist and she'd rather say she doesn't know than to get an answer wrong. Her OCD means that things have to be done a certain way every time, and if things change unexpectedly she can be thrown off for the day. IF something has been promised, then it must happen as promised or she can't cope. Life is full of unexpected changes, so I've tried to mitigate that as much as possible. If there is only a possibility of something happening, I don't mention it until it becomes a certainty.
My little girl is very intuitive. She knows when someone likes her, and she knows when someone doesn't. She wants everyone to like her. That's going to be hard on her-in fact, it already has been. One of the challenges with OCD is sometimes she fixates, and sometimes it's on a person. (If I never hear another word about Hannah Montana I'll be a happy person) If the person is someone that she has decided is her new BFF, and it's news to the other person, we have a problem. I have to let the fixation run its course, but I have a sad little girl in the meantime when her adoration is not returned.
We had a couple of really bad days this weekend, because school was weighing on my little girl's mind. She thought she had to know everything for Grade 1 the first day of Grade 1. Since I'm her mom, and I know nothing, I solved the problem by hauling out the Grade 1 and Kindergarten curriculum books I'd already purchased. We started with Kindergarten, and worked through some pages so she could see how much she had learned. Then I asked her whether she had learned things in Junior Kindergarten or Senior Kindergarten. She's a bright kid, and figured out the pattern quickly-that learning builds from stuff you already know. Then I grabbed the Grade 1 book and we flipped through some pages. She quickly discovered that she already knows a bunch of Grade 1 stuff too. Problem solved, at least for now.
I'm worried about test anxiety. I'm worried that the school will use the labels to define her, rather than to help her be her best. I'm worried that my kid will be stressed and anxious. She had a rough year last year, but over the summer, I got my sunny bunny back. I don't want to lose that kid again.
The school, teachers and principal will just have to get used to this face because they are going to see it alot. A good friend of mine, whose son has Downs Syndrome, tells teachers that "my child can't rise to low expectations." I like that. Yes, my kid has some challenges, but that is all they are. She's a kind, sweet, smart, loving, funny little fashionista with strong opinions. She will do great things, with a bit of help, a lot of support and love in abundance (and maybe the occasional trip by a stuffed bunny in a backpack.)
My little girl started Grade 1 today, and I couldn't be more proud.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)