Radon

I must have waaaaay too much time on my hands to be posting twice in one day:)

Radon is a colorless, odorless, radioactive gas.  It forms naturally from the decay of radioactive elements, such as uranium, found at different levels in soil and rock throughout the world.  Radon is found indoors and outdoors.  It can be breathed into the lungs as a form of high-energy radiation that can damage the DNA inside the body's cells (eventually leading to lung cancer).  The National Toxicology Program (NTP) which is made up of other gov't agencies including the National Institutes of Health, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and the FDA (kind of counting on you all knowing what this acronym is), has classified radon as 'known to be a human carcinogen'.  Radon levels vary greatly in different parts of the world, even within different neighborhoods.  Elevated radon levels have been found in every state.  The EPA recommends taking steps to lower radon levels if test results show levels of 4.0 pCi/L or higher.  (cancer.org/cancer/cancercauses/othercarcinogens/pollution/radon)

We live on a rock graveyard.  We finally did a radon test in our home, sent it off to be analyzed and were called with the results this past week.

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This means we will be installing (or rather having someone install) a 'sub-slab depressurization' unit to increase ventilation in our home.  

Go get yourself a test kit and find out what the radon level is like in your home.  If you're lucky, you and your significant other can 'give' each other a ventilation system for Christmas. :)

Thanksgiving Break (plus a couple days)

The first day of our Thanksgiving break was Wednesday.  I told all of the kids that they could each have friends over to play as soon as they got their 'stuff' done.  One quickly finished up her 'stuff' and when I asked her who she was calling to have come over she told me that she didn't want to invite a friend over, that she'd rather play with her sisters.  All day long she and Four played together.  She took, holy crap I just counted, 84 videos.  They were making a movie.  Anyhow, kept them busy all day and it was cute to see them play together.  I loved that she chose her sisters instead of her friends, too.

Saturday we had our carpets cleaned.  This involved moving all of our furniture into the kitchen and filling our bathrooms with furniture as well.  Which was fine until somebody needed to actually use the bathroom and then it was a little tricky.  At one point, One and Two wanted to go upstairs to their bedroom and attempted to do so without touching the carpet.  Not the best idea they've ever had.  Our stairs are hardwood on the very outside of the step, so they decided to climb up the outside of the staircase, resting their feet on the hardwood part.  Had I seen this, I'd have wrung their little necks, but in the end they learned a valuable lesson that would not have taken place had I seen and intervened.  About halfway up the staircase, one of the rails that they were holding onto as they climbed fell out.  Two fell backwards off the stairs onto the floor below and then the wrought iron rail fell on top of her and hit her head.  Both girls were horrified.  One by the odd looking goose egg that appeared on her sister's head and Two that she had broken the railing.  On their own they have decided to not climb up the outside of the staircase again.  I didn't have to say anything.  I just took care of Two and they had a lovely learning moment all on their own.  I'm happy to report that Two's goose egg has almost returned to normal and she has only a light green bruise in its place, which is mostly covered by her bangs.

Speaking of goose eggs and bruises, Three's goose egg has gotten much smaller also and the bruising is nearly gone.  There was a couple of days where she had a bit of a black eye from the blood draining, but for the most part she has recovered nicely.  

This morning I woke up to eight porcupine quills in the chin of our our dog, Lady.  Poor thing.  I have to use the pliers to pull them out, they're in there pretty good.  Once before I tried using my fingers and then the tweezers and it just didn't work.  

BoyTwo has been in fine form the past month or so and we can't seem to bring him down out of la-la land.  He's pretty agitated a lot of the time and really defiant.  I had a meeting with the school yesterday to draft his 504 (an educational plan for students that the school is required to follow so that the child receives their free and appropriate education).  There are a lot of times when I feel really bad that I even send him to school and subject his teacher to dealing with him.  She should have a 504 for herself to protect her!

Two has a 504 with about 10 accommodations.  Three has an IEP also about 10, although this will most likely change at our next meeting due to her CAPD dx.  BoyTwo's 504 has 26 'necessary accommodations'.  The team is awesome.  It included his teacher, the principal, the special ed teacher, the reading specialist, the district math specialist and myself.  There is a whole slew of interventions that they will begin for him and we are going to test him for special ed for reading as he is officially two full years behind in that subject.  Sadly, in our state (and I don't know if this is the case everywhere), a student must be a full two years behind in a given subject to qualify for special ed.  During the meeting the principal did tell me that one of the things he is working on is targeting those students that do not meet that criteria but who are not at grade level.  

Reading intervention will begin for BoyTwo while we get through the testing instead of just waiting.  The reading specialist was, in my opinion, overly optimistic about her program and what it will be able to do for BoyTwo.  Three has been a part of this program for 1 1/2 years and has barely moved.  When I pointed this out to her, she said that if I'm expecting a big improvement in her ability to read, then of course it would look like she wasn't doing well, but if I simply check to see if she has improved at all from where she was in kindergarten I should see that she has improved.  Well, in that case, I guess maybe my expectations were too high.  I did think that a reading intervention program that meets with students four times a week should be producing amazing results.  Good crap.  I did more for her over the summer, which was also acknowledged by said specialist.  In our district, the reading program is simply the same program that is being used within the classroom, just more time with it.  Clearly, if the child is not doing well in the classroom, having more of the same most likely will not benefit those who struggle the very most.  To clarify, students in this program are not just struggling readers.  These are students who are at least one year behind their peers.  Anyhow, I've gone off on a tangent, but it was a very productive meeting and I felt that I was listened to and that those in attendance truly wish to help BoyTwo.

Interestingly, after the meeting the district math specialist approached me and asked to speak to me as herself, not as an educator.  She asked if I had heard of RAD (reactive attachment disorder).  I told her that I had and that I suspected that this was something that BoyTwo was dealing with, although it had not yet been diagnosed.  She told me that she had a student that she helped ten years ago with this diagnosis and that after listening to everything we had talked about today and taking into account her time with BoyTwo, she suspected he was affected by RAD. That said, neither of us are trained doctors or neuropsychologists so it doesn't really matter how much we suspect something, and his appointment on March 25 seems ions away.

Why Not Medicate on Weekends?

Natalie had a question from a couple posts ago regarding why we don't medicate BoyTwo on the weekends.  I really feel like this is a great question and one worth addressing as a post as it may be enlightening to others.  It is actually something that I had thought about before the boys ever got home, and one that I thought deeply about once they arrived.  What works for us won't work for everyone, but if it helps someone, then great!

The medication BoyTwo is on is not one that builds up in his system.  He takes it, it works for 6-8 hours and then wears off.  I guess you could liken it (lamely) to a tylenol.  You take it, it offers its' relief and then it's out of your system.  We also have him on the lowest dose we found that still helped him to concentrate/focus.  There are no ill effects for him if he doesn't take it, as far as making him feel weird.  It is more difficult for him to focus on something (unless it's talking about being in a gang or finding something to tap with or clap, lol) when he is not medicated.  However, I chose to do it this for several reasons that I'm happy to share because I really feel like it might help others.  

1) A lot of parents whose children are taking ADHD meds opt to not medicate over weekends and holidays, any non-school days.  Some parents notice a big difference in their kids' personalities when medicated and will often refer to them as acting like little zombies while medicated.  Parents can often tolerate and, dare I say, embrace their child's ADHD in a home setting, but their 'lively' way of life doesn't work for a school setting.  This is very true for BoyTwo.  He has a great sense of humor that is muted when he is medicated.  We enjoy seeing his true self when he is home (this includes after school because the meds have worn off by then).  He is still crazy hyper at home, but I am with him nearly every second and he does really well with me.  I can provide consistency and structure for him at home that he (and I) can handle.  I know him far better than anyone at the school and can see the little signals he gives off when he is about to rage or meltdown or when he is getting dysregulated and head it off.  (This is also part of the reason that I am at the school SO much:))  At home we can prevent or avoid a lot of the problems he has at school.  He poor or bad behavior is definitely affected by his ADHD, but has a lot more to do with his ODD (Oppositional Defiance Disorder) and suspected FAS that I am still trying to learn to help.  I guess what I am saying there is that he still has behavior problems when he is taking his meds, so it's not like he's an angel at school all day and then if he doesn't have his meds he's some psychopath who is in trouble the whole day.  Also, while we do continue to practice numbers and letters throughout the weekend, he doesn't have to be sitting down or quiet as in a classroom.  If he is standing on his head mid breakdance move while we review, it's okay at home.  

2) I touched on this briefly above, but ADHD meds sometimes have a 'zombie' like affect on kids.  There are medications that build up a reserve in the system and then work off of that.  ADHD meds (along with many others) have side affects.  Some of the side affects include not being able to fall asleep.  Another major side affect is that it affects the child's appetite.  Because BoyTwo is already too small and needing to gain weight and grow, I did not want to add this to his list of 'issues'.  I give him a pretty huge breakfast and dinner.  He takes his meds as he is eating breakfast and they are worn off by the time we eat dinner that night at 7:30.  His appetite for lunch is very diminished and he eats very little.  On the weekends when he is off of his medication he eats a ton at all three meals and in between.  I am glad that I don't have to worry about him eating enough.  One less thing for us to battle.

3) This is a more practical reason.  Our insurance coverage of his medication is not great.  While I understand that there are many other medications out there that are far more costly, BoyTwo's medication is an expense.  The medication we chose for him is a very basic one that many doctors suggest as a starting point when beginning to medicate.  We also use the generic version of it and it still costs us $150 for thirty days.  By only giving it to him on school days, the medication lasts an entire school week longer and therefore saves us a little money.  While this is not a primary reason for not medicating him on weekends or holidays, it is, I guess, a bonus.

4) This is not yet an issue for us, but comes from knowing people with ADHD that were medicated as children.  As adults they have shared with me that they felt zombie like and less than who they were while on the medication.  Some have also been mad about having to take medication because they felt like people didn't like them for who they really are and felt like parents/teachers were trying to alter them.  Because of how they perceived their experience with medications, they opt to not use medication as adults and struggle with their ADHD every single day.  I guess I'm trying to help BoyTwo see that his medication can help him function better in his life (namely school and in the future, work) but that he can still have his personality.  I want him to feel like his medication is helping him to function and not controlling or changing his personality.  Please don't assume that every person who medicates or medicated their child for ADHD is doing psychological damage to them or that I think this is the case.  Also, I am in no way judging any parent who medicated their child who is now an adult and is bitter about it.  

This last paragraph is directly related to reason #4 and not at all to the original question.  As parents we all do the very best we can for our kids and most of us don't make rash decisions.  We study and ask questions and pray and ponder what is best for our child.  Medications have come a long way in 20-30 years and hopefully will continue to progress.  In the meantime, we are all doing the best that we can to provide our child with the ability to learn the skills he/she needs to become a functioning, happy, successful adult.  

Thank you always, everyone, for your advice, encouragement, questions and general support.  I need it!!

Thankful

My house is quiet.  It is late and everyone is sleeping.  I am baking.  

(I decided to bake desserts after all:))

The pumpkin dessert is in the oven baking, the pie crust is awaiting the oven, the brownies (yeah, I know, not your traditional turkey day indulgence, but I'm trying to provide a dairy free option) are waiting their turn for the oven also, the vegetables for the stuffing are prepped and in the fridge.  The laundry is getting caught up.  The bathrooms are clean, the house is (fairly) clean.  During this quiet time when there is no school tomorrow to be worrying about, no presentation to be preparing for, no 'pressing matters' to occupy my mind, my mind and heart are able to wander, to think freely.  

I think about BoyOne and BoyTwo and the amazing progress they have made here, in a family, our family.  I am overwhelmed by this miraculous transformation that is taking place in them physically, spiritually, emotionally, mentally, and the equally as miraculous transformations that are taking place in the rest of us for opening our hearts to them.  

Right now, while BoyTwo is comfortably sleeping, all cozied up in a warm bed with his little stuffed animals and pillow and blanket, I can easily see the innocent child that he is.  His disabilities become invisible to me and the trials these disabilities present every day seem far away.  This is a rare occasion, sadly.  I wish he could have been here his whole life.  I wish I could have protected him from the effects of the lifestyle he was thrown into both prenatally and as an infant and toddler.  I wish that his whole life didn't have to be so difficult.  Even here, it is difficult for him.  Learning a new language.  Not being able to trust.  Still wondering about having enough to eat.  I wish I could make it all go away for him.

I remember all the people in Ukraine who had given up on BoyTwo.  At the age of 7!!  I don't judge them at all as I did initially.  If anything, I have far more respect for them and the difficult job they face of trying to teach and train and raise children in less than desirable circumstances, with very few resources.  Have they heard of FAS?  Do they have any idea about learning disabilities?  My word, they don't even understand physical disabilities.  Can you imagine the frustration they have trying to teach these children who appear to be 'normal' but cannot learn?  Can you imagine the irritation they feel when day after long day the child appears to be not listening or trying?  What about the outright defiance they have to endure?  I can empathize with them over this.  I have lived with it for the past year.  I have been spit on, sworn at, called names, hit, bit, had things thrown at me, etc., by one child!  Many times each of these things happened every day, day after day.  The orphanage the boys came from had nearly 300 children living there!  Can you imagine having multiple children doing this to you, day after day, year after year?!

I think of my (biological) little girls who have their own struggles, of the fight it has been, here in a free country with a surplus of knowledge and resources, to try to understand them and to find the help for them that they need.  I see them try so very hard every. single. day and still not understand what they are being taught and struggle to fit in.  What would have become of them if they had been the orphan in Ukraine?  It makes me sick to my stomach to think about what might have happened to Two, who, as an infant, literally cried hours and hours each day.  She couldn't tolerate most of the formulas we tried to supplement with and couldn't even tolerate rice cereal until she was 10 months old.  People.  She didn't even sleep longer than an hour at a time until she was 10 months old.  Even in the night.  She was completely nonverbal, no cooing, ahhing or utterance, until she was 1 1/2, except for when she was screaming bloody murder. She had a very difficult time making eye contact.  She couldn't hear well because of constant ear infections.  She was very small and grew slowly.  I can't imagine that with so many children needing attention, someone being able to sit with her for hours and hours, holding her and working with her, insisting on eye contact.  I can't imagine that there would have been anyone who would have been able, even if they wanted, to feed her one ounce of a bottle every hour and hold her until it had digested enough that she wouldn't throw most of it up.  Would someone have been able to take the time to learn sign language so that they could then teach her sign language so she could begin to communicate?  I'm not sure, but I imagine that babies like this are probably sent to separate orphanages for babies and young children with special needs.  Sometimes, at these orphanages, if they are lucky, they are treated well.  Sometimes, they aren't lucky and they lay in beds or cribs all day, every day, year after year.  After this, I know what happens.  When they turn 7 they are sent to a mental institution with people ages 7 on through adult.  Their circumstances are dire.  

What would happen to Three?  She looks normal, but would appear to be defiant because she does not listen.  We know that she is listening but does not understand what she is being told.  They would not know this.  They wouldn't understand this.  Would her orphanage staff had given up on her, deeming her unable to learn?

Tonight I am so grateful that I am their mom.  I am so grateful for each of my six children.  I am grateful that they are here with me, under my roof, within my reach.  I am so grateful to my Heavenly Father for blessing me with the resources and insight I need to see my children for who they are and who they have the potential to become.  I am so grateful that I know of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.  I am so grateful that I know that I can ask Them for help and for strength and for forgiveness.  I am so grateful that They know my children, and me, our needs, strengths, and weaknesses and how to overcome them through Them.  I am really grateful that I have been blessed with a simple and quick faith.  I am grateful for prayer.  I am grateful for the relationship I have with my Heavenly Father and Savior.  I am grateful for their unfailing, perfect love.

With this gratitude and thankful heart, there is the flip side, and I wonder and worry about all the other misunderstood children in the world.  

Sisterly Love

Friday was the school spelling bee.  Each class had held a spelling bee within its own classroom and sent three representatives (1st, 2nd, and 3rd place winners) to the school wide competition.  One was one of the representatives from her classroom.  

I was a volunteer at the spelling bee which meant I couldn't be anywhere near my daughter:)  After I took her picture (which I will add to this post someday when I have time to upload my phone pics to the computer), I took my place in front of the stage.  To begin, they have the kids use a dry erase board and they all write the word.  If they get it right, they stay.  If they get it wrong, they are dismissed.  This is a quick way to eliminate quite a few kids and get to the nitty gritty.

The first word given was 'etching.'

Out of the six kids I was supervising (making sure they weren't cheating and checking their spelling), only two of them spelled the word right.  I felt so bad for the four who didn't.  I glanced over to where One was sitting so that I could flash her a little smile of encouragement, but to my surprise, she had come down from her spot and was exiting.  Because of where I was standing, every kid had to pass by me.  As she passed me I could tell that she was very upset, about to cry.  She said, 'I spelled the wrong word.'  I felt so bad for her!  I did think it was a little funny that she had somehow spelled the wrong word.  I really wished that I could follow her off the floor and give her a hug and comfort her.  I really felt badly that I couldn't do anything for her.

The spelling bee continued several more rounds with the dry erase boards.  About 15 minutes later, the dry erase boards were no longer needed and the 'traditional' spelling bee began (where they have the kids come up one at a time, say the word, spell it, next kid goes).  I helped put away the markers and boards and erasers and hurried to find One.  She wasn't with her class (this didn't really surprise me), so I headed to the nearest bathroom.

When I entered the bathroom, I looked to the ground to find her shoes so that I knew which stall she was in.  And the most beautiful thing ever happened.

In the very last stall I saw TWO pair of shoes.  One's and Two's.  Two had seen One get dismissed and could see that she was upset and that I was occupied.  She asked her teacher to be excused to the bathroom and went after her big sister to comfort her.  Another thing that I was impressed by was the fact that One was allowing Two to comfort her.  There was no 'leave me alone!' or 'get out of here!' that sometimes occurs with siblings.

I wanted to be with One.  I wanted to hug her and wipe her tears.  I wanted to encourage her and tell her I loved her and that I was proud of her efforts.  (I also wanted to find out what word she spelled instead of etching.)  However, I couldn't be there, but somebody else could.  My other daughter.  She saw her sister's need and without being told what to do, she filled that need.  

My heart felt so good.

Then I had one of those little epiphanies.

Heavenly Father and Jesus cannot physically be here with us on this earth.  I am here though.  We all are.  Will I see my sister's (or brother's) need?  Do I recognize my neighbor, grocery bagger, the kid at school, the random person at the store, the person I shared a pew with at church as my brother or sister?  Do I recognize, perceive, notice, allow myself to become aware of that person's need?  Will I fill that need?  Do I wait to be poked and prodded?  Do I need a personal invitation to assist?  Am I so wrapped up in my own busy life that it becomes too hard for me to excuse myself from the middle of the row in the middle of the gymnasium in the middle of the spelling bee assembly to help my sister?  

And, once again, the children teach their mother.

Another Day

Life with kids is always exciting:)

Today I ran into a friend at our grocery store.  I had Three with me.

Friend:  "What are you doing out of school?"

Three:  "I got a 'cussion at school on the rocket."

Friend:  "What?!"

Me:  "She walked by the rocket (a super dangerous, in my opinion, yet fun spinning toy at the school) and the kid who was on it was hanging their head off and hit Three.  The other kid is probably hurt, too.  But she doesn't have a concussion.  I don't think."

Three:  "Did you notice that I lost my two front teeth?"

Friend:  "That's exciting!  When did you loose your teeth?"

Three:  "This one got knocked out at the Halloween party and this one got knocked out on the bus the next day."

Friend:  "Oh my gosh."

We finished our conversations and went different directions only to meet up again back by the frozen dessert/dairy section.  

Me:  "I'm trying to decide if it would be bad if I just brought frozen pies for Thanksgiving dessert."

Friend:  "I think everyone would understand."

Generally I love to bake.  I just may turn my love of baking into the baking of frozen goods this year.

I happened to be at the school shortly after Three was hurt.  I ended up bringing her home because she wasn't feeling well.  She seems to be doing fine now, just taking it easy.  Of course the one thing I kept thinking was that there is evidence of people developing CAPD after a head injury and certainly if a person already has this diagnosis, a head injury can't help.  

The dogs brought home a deer antler the other day.  Where do they get these things from??  Remember when they brought home the deer leg?  And the intestines?  They are attracted to gross stuff.  Yuck.  I am grateful that it is only an antler and that the head isn't attached to the antler.  

BoyTwo continues to struggle at school with less than stellar behavior or academic achievement.

BoyOne and I are working on his enunciation and pronunciation, a new favorite of his.  Not.  We compromised though.  He can work with me or pay for his own ST.  He chose me.  I'm flattered:)  His English lit class is having a 'Thanksgiving Day Breakfast Celebration' tomorrow and he has asked me to make cinnamon rolls to take to class.  Most kids are bringing a box of cereal.  I'm happy to make cinnamon rolls for him though.  He finally has a mom who can do this for him and I'm super excited that he wants me to.  I'm glad that he can have some of these opportunities even though he's in his teens.  We're both lucky that he can relive some of these experiences.  

One is doing great.  So great that I pulled her out of school today to go shop for some jeans.  After harping on her for wearing shorts every day (it's 20 degrees), she finally came downstairs in jeans this morning.  Jeans that could've fit me!!!  I guess I forgot to have her try on her new pants at the beginning of the school year and they are all too big for her.  Last year's are too small, so we took a quick excursion into town.  And I do mean quick.  45 minutes down, 1/2 hour there, and 45 minutes back.  Just in time for Three's accident.

Two is doing well also.  She jumped down the stairs on Saturday from stair 5.  Generally stair 4 is the highest I'll allow.  Not that I allowed stair 5, she just did it.  She twisted her ankle.  Later that day she was sliding down the stairs on a tupperware lid when Huz thought that it wasn't a good idea for her to catch herself at the bottom with her feet.  I could see his point, but they (all the kids) do this a lot and haven't been hurt yet, but I went with him.  She kept her feet up and ended up crashing at the bottom of the stairs and spraining her twisted ankle.  Good thing there's no tumbling classes this week.

Four has taken to dressing very... colorfully.  Not sure how to describe this.  I'll have to post pics instead.

Saturday I rearranged the girls bedroom.  They were ecstatic!  You'd have thought they had won the lottery!  Had I known this simple act was going to be so well received, I'd have waited and done it as a Christmas present.

Four's friend just told me that Four 'has a crush' on one of BoyOne's friend, although Four just told me she doesn't know what a crush is.  Four's friend went on to tell me that Four doesn't want to tell the boy this.  Four's friend thinks that Four should tell him this because this friend has learned 'to share her emotions'.  ?!?!  What?!  You're five!!

Gotta run.  BoyTwo just hollered down to me that there is poop on the floor upstairs.  Hopefully it's the dog's and not his:)

Guess Why...

...BoyTwo was sent to the principal's office for the second time today?

He was chasing a girl with a pair of scissors trying to cut off her hair.  

Yeah, so maybe no meds should mean no school.

Yikes!

aaaaaand just for fun, Four thinks/swears-up-and-down/knows-without-a-shadow-of-a-doubt that the lyrics to "Old McDonald" are:

Old McDonald had a BARN.  

We cannot.  convince. her. otherwise.  She is right and the rest of the world is WRONG!!  Watch out future husband of hers:)

aaaaaaand, for an update, 'slow talking' has been going really well for the girls.  It is, however, REALLY hard for me!!  :)

Old Tricks

As I mentioned last night, BoyTwo seems to be pulling out some of his old bad behavior tricks.  I can only assume that it is because of his newly proclaimed love for us and the vulnerability he is experiencing with it.  

Late this morning, I received a call from the elementary.  It was BoyTwo asking me to come pick him up from school because, as he says, 'need my medicine.'

BoyTwo's ADHD scrip ran out this past Friday.  I've tried calling the doctor for over a week now to have it refilled, but haven't heard back.  (For those of you who may not know, an ADHD medication is widely abused so to help prevent this, you have to pick the scrip up in person with ID every 30 days, only receiving a 30 day supply.  You have to call in a request for refill every 30 days.)  Anyhow, he was definitely busier (all the weird tapping and tongue clicking and body shaking, etc), but he is still capable of behaving.  The ADHD meds do not make one behave, only enable one to think more clearly, which in turn may help with behavior and poor decision making, but not a guarantee (obviously with the stealing...)

 Anyhow, BoyTwo told me that he cannot work because he did not take his medication.  I reminded him that he does work for me when he is not taking his medication just fine (he is not medicated on the weekends).  I told him to go back to class and called his teacher to get the scoop.  This morning as BoyTwo entered his classroom he announced to her that he wanted a new teacher.  He was done with her and wanted someone new.  When he realized that she was not going to simply pass him along to someone else,  he refused to work.  Wouldn't even hold a pencil.  Was sent to the principal's office twice.  Unfortunately, the principal was not there or else I'm sure he would have handled the situation well.  He's worked a lot with BoyTwo.  I like how his teacher dealt with him.  Minimal attention, yet continual invitation and expectation to work.

I decided to bring him home for lunch (he hates this) to eliminate any other potential problems and will be returning with him to sit with him for the remainder of the day to help 'motivate' him to do his school work.  It's hard to describe this adequately, but he is clearly playing a game here with the medication thing as it has never been an issue in the past.  Also the way he is wording things is not his typical phrasing.  When I picked him up and told him that we were going to eat lunch and then go back to school, he became mad.  He thought he'd be able to just come home and be done with it.  So, bring it on BoyTwo, you're dealing with the most stubborn woman alive.  I can take it:)

Number of Days

422 - number of days the boys have been home

420 - number of days before BoyTwo told us he loved us

2,579 - number of days before I found out that Three couldn't understand what we were saying to her

2592 - number of days before I realized/understood that Three couldn't/can't understand what we are saying to her

3,309 - number of days before I realized that Two possibly has CAPD, too  (she's 9 so that's why this # is so much larger than Three's.  It was actually only 3 days after Three was diagnosed)

********

Every morning when the kids wake up, we tell them good morning and that we love them.  Then before they leave for school, we tell them again.  When I drop them off at school, as they jump out of the car, we say 'I love you!' again.  During their day at school, I usually see one or more of them (because let's face it, with five kids at the elementary, I still practically live there:)), as we part I say it again.  We say it after we pray together.  After we brush their teeth and send them upstairs to await being tucked in, we say it again.  On the final tuck in (is there really such a thing??) we express our love to them.  If they get off their beds they are sent back (or escorted back) with an 'I love you!'.  Sometimes these 'I love you's are accompanied by us telling them something specific that we love about them, or listing several reasons why we love them.  Five of the six kids always answer back, 

'I love you, too!!'  Two days ago, after brushing BoyTwo's teeth, I sent him up to his bed to wait for a tuck in.  'K, BoyTwo, I'll be up in a few minutes to tuck you in.  I love you!'  And holycrap, 420 days and approximately 2,100 times later, the kid answered back,

'I love you, too!'

Huz and I were brushing different kids at separate sinks in the bathroom and both of us stopped, looked up and did the whole, 'did he just say what I think he said?', 'did you just hear that?'.  

Now, lest you think that hell froze over, this week, particularly the past few days, have been quite... rough.  That's a pretty nice way of putting it.  After really classic bad behavior, and a series of 'loving consequences', I tucked BoyTwo into bed tonight.  As I scooted the covers away from his face (he often buries his face and then I have to 'find' him, you know the game you play with your two year old) to 'look' for him, I noticed the sober look on his face.  Then, what to my wondering eyes should appear but a tear, out the corner of his eye.

Now, BoyTwo definitely cries, but his cries are usually raging cries, hateful cries where you can see in his face that he is wanting to rip the skin off your face and eat it.  This cry was different.  He was tender.

And then it hit me.  He had opened up to us on a whole new level (saying 'I love you') and was now testing us (bad behavior past few days) and was feeling sadness that I had been disappointed with the things that he had done!

Just to underscore the magnitude of this verbal expression of feelings, BoyTwo denies up and down that he loves his brother (whom we know without a shadow of a doubt he does in fact love) and according to the both of them, has never expressed this feeling to anyone.  In fact, one time I had tried to get him to verbalize his feelings for his brother, hoping that it would help him to recognize and put a name to that feeling that he had toward his brother.  He would. not. say. the. word. love.  He actually started to hyperventilate when I suggested that he loved BoyOne.  But, now this!

Hallelujah!!  The child can feel!!!  

*******

Still trying to sort through the whole CAPD thing.  As I read about CAPD (over and over and over into the wee hours of the morning) I see indicators or 'red flags' that may indicate that your child (or you) may have CAPD.  Every time I see that list, I don't see Three, I see Two.  Over and over.  Oh, how I hope I'm wrong.  Two has SPD and is actually the reason I first heard about CAPD years ago.  I thought she, possibly, could have this.  However, the 'red flags' for CAPD didn't encompass the sensory 'issues' she has.  And there's a lot of them.  So, when she was diagnosed with SPD, I basically forgot all about CAPD.  Until now.  Until I realized that I have been mentioning to Huz and her teacher how I'm concerned that she is not comprehending well.  Until I realized how many times a day she says 'huh?' and 'what?'.  Until I remembered the blank stares, her very delayed language progress, her serious difficulties with reading, rhyming, spelling, word confusion and substitution, etc.  

One thing that I was told that would help Three was to speak slower.  It would allow her more time to process what she was hearing.  I really thought that didn't apply to me.  As her mother, I have never once heard her indicate that she could not understand what I was saying.  She's never mentioned that she couldn't understand me.  Because of the SPD, a lot of the parenting things we do in our house are similar to those things you do for CAPD and ELL kids.  I have been thinking for a few days that I ought to try slowing down my speech.  Part of me wasn't going to try it because I really felt that as a mother, I would have known/noticed that this was something I needed to do.  I hadn't noticed a need.  Didn't think I needed to try.

Tonight, as I began read to Three and Four (BoyTwo is usually with us but was already in bed-see above section), I humbled myself and decided to try speaking quite slowly.  To be very honest, I felt like I was reading at a ridiculously slow pace.  We read half of what we usually did in the same amount of time.  When I finished, I turned to Three and asked if she liked the new way I was reading or if she wanted me to keep reading how I usually do.

"The new way."

Bad mommy.  I closed my eyes and then said, 

"I'm sorry I usually talk so fast!  I didn't realize you didn't understand me."

She said, "It's okay mom."

I love their immediate forgiveness and love.  She continued, 

"That's why I don't answer questions when we read scriptures (we read scripture together every morning.  Well, One or I read, the others listen as they can't read).  I can't understand you or Savanna."

Oh my holy crap.  Bad bad mommy!  (I'm not looking for anyone to reassure me that I'm not a bad mommy, it's just the immediate thought I had when this happened.  It's a natural feeling, I think, to realize you have unintentionally failed your child)  This poor child.  Then the whole movie thing happens where you flashback to twenty different scenes and replay them in your head in a matter of a millisecond.  I thought of all the 'labels' she had been given.  Shy.  Quiet.  Withdrawn.  Not attentive.  Difficulty keeping up with classwork.  Well, duh.  She seemed shy, quiet and withdrawn because she couldn't tell what was going on.  I remember being in Ukraine, hanging out with a bunch of Russian speaking adults.  I could have easily been tagged as all of those things.  Not attentive.  Difficulty keeping up with classwork.  Well, yeah.  When you can't tell what anyone is saying, you can't exactly follow along.  

Hugs.  Kisses.  Again.  Tuck in.  More 'I love yous'.  Go downstairs to read with Two who is waiting patiently on my bed with her book.  We have this great system.  She reads, I read.  This helps her a ton as she tires when she reads.  She has a hard time comprehending.  She, through much effort on her part and mine, has become a good reader.  In fact she tested really well, being able to read at a 6th grade level.  Comprehension?  Nope.  Below her current grade level (3rd grade).  She has learned to compensate.  She taught herself to read well and quickly.  People just have no idea that she doesn't know what in the world is being said.  (except her teachers and myself who notice this.  it's kept her safe from feeling alienated from classmates)

When it was my turn to read, I read my section slooooowly, as I had done with Three.  When I was done, I asked Two if she liked the new way I was reading or if it was too slow and did she want me to read my usual way.  She, too, liked the slower reading.  I told her that I know I read fast and that I was sorry that I hadn't asked her before.  She told me it was okay and that she thought it was better to have me read slow because then she could understand what was going on (in the book) and maybe we could all talk slower, too, so she could understand.

For reals?!  For reals.  I had no. idea.  

I'm sure you've heard of 'Fast Talker' and 'Soft Talker' and 'Loud Talker'.  Let me introduce myself to you,  

"Hello, I am now s.l.o.w.  t.a.l.k.e.r."

The Kids' Perspective

Because I used One's camera for our trip to the happiest place on earth, I then downloaded all the pictures on her memory card to our computer.  Later, as I looked through those pictures, I found quite a few that she had taken.  And they were funny.  

Without further ado, and for your enjoyment,

The drive to CO as documented by One:

p.s.  I'm providing the narrative, in their behalf...

 "Oh, look!  It's me, One, and I'm so surprised that I'm taking my own picture!  This is fun!!"

 "What the heck??  One just took my picture, point blank, from behind and upside down!"

(Four)

 "Do it again, One, so I can be happy!!  Except you missed half my face.  Oh well!"

(Four)

 "I love to smile pretty for pictures.  Even with candy in my mouth."

(Three)

 "Seriously?!  Another picture?  There were several others in between.  But, it's really important to me to look pretty, so I'm going to try to still smile."

(Three)

 "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear One say she wanted me to smile.  I don't even care if there is a picture of me without a smile."

(Three)

 "I'm trying really hard to ignore her.  In fact, I'm sucking my thumb so I don't freak out and start screaming at One.  PUT THE CAMERA AWAY!!"

(Three)

 "UGH!!  I'm pretending to be asleep and she STILL won't stop taking my picture!!"

(Three)

 "It's okay if you are one inch away from my face.  I'm the calm, nice sister.  I can handle this."

(Two)

 "See?  Still calm."

(Two)

 "Mmmmm.  Food.  I hope mom doesn't see that I just shoved an entire _______ in my mouth!"

(BoyTwo)

 "I practice keeping my eyes open without blinking for as long as I can!!"

(BoyTwo)

 "What?  Somebody take my picture?  I no know this.  I too busy watch Brother Bear!"

(BoyOne)

 This is a picture of the scenery.

 Oh, look.  Two hours later it hasn't changed at all.

 "I've resorted to taking pictures of my mouth! because my siblings might kill me."

 "I've even grown tired of myself."

ON THE AIRPLANE

(on one row was Four, One, and Three)

 "Are we really starting this again?!"

 "I feel so refreshed after my nap!  I can even smile again!!"

 "Just so all the future generations know, I am eating an apple.  On an airplane.  While I take a picture of it."

 "This is my sister, Two, who I am about to rudely demand she leave."

**I actually quite like this picture!  Good job, One!**

 "Oh!  This bright!!"

BoyOne

 "Oh my gosh!  Really?!  Out of all those shots, this is the best one?!"

my mom and me

 no caption needed

 "I'm such a good sport, I'm going to smile really big!"

RANDOMNESS

 Maxine, our 'lizard'.  Huz tried to be the cool parent and brought home this lizard (don't take this away from me, Huz.  It's the one thing that I do!!) that he found in a driveway to be our next pet.  Within 12 hours, our house smelled so bad that you could smell it from outside.  Maxine was upgraded to a much larger 'container' outside.

 Eventually Maxine appeared to be nearly dead, although we were trying hard to feed her and take care of her.  I was able to convince the kids to let her go near the pond on the golf course.  They made it a huge ceremony.  Shocking, I know.  I didn't follow along to photograph.  Take my word for it.

 "People didn't even recognize me at the 5k.  They kept saying, 'Woah!  Look at that zebra!'"

 "Seriously.  I should win an award."

 "Well, then, I get second place!"

 "I know I'm your childhood BFF, but I am going to throw your freaking camera out the window if you don't stop NOW!!"

 "I guess I'm going to have to put it away.  Sad!!"

Peace out:)

Ownership Issues

I've read that this is what you call it when kids with FAS steal things.  I've read that they truly do not understand that just because they see and want something, it doesn't make it theirs.  However, I have yet to find out HOW to deal with this.  I mean, at some point BoyTwo has got to learn to not take things.  I'm pretty sure his future boss won't be so chill about his 'ownership issues'.  Or what about the very same Tar.get that was super chill about his 'ownership issues' at age 8?  Pretty sure they won't be so accommodating when he's 16 or 18 or 20.

This morning:

'BoyTwo do you have any toys with you?'  every day he gets in trouble for taking toys to school and either playing with them inappropriately or at inappropriate times.

'No, mom.'

Unfortunately, I cannot believe him.  I do like to give him the chance.  Perhaps that is wrong, that he cannot make himself be truthful, but it's what I do.  

'Okay, then, let's check your pockets, just to be sure!'  I say this in a chipper voice.  I've been told that I have to forge a relationship of trust with him, although I may never be able to trust him, he needs to be able to trust me so that I can help him, advocate for him, etc.

Three of his pockets have things in them.  Things that do not belong to him that he has taken from people in our home.  Part of me is extra annoyed because one of the things he has taken is candy from my bedroom drawer.  Candy that was hidden underneath things in that bedroom drawer.  As if he doesn't have enough of his own stinking candy from Halloween???  He does.  He still has an entire gallon size ziploc baggie full.  Take your own candy!!!!  Whatever.  

'Wow, I'm glad I checked your pockets!'  which is true but I'm feeling much more sarcastic inside than I portray.  I move on to his backpack.  Generally I do this right when I pick him up from school to be sure he didn't steal anything from school.  I then check before school so that I know he's not taking anything to school that shouldn't go to school.

He has a toy in his backpack that I have never seen before which means he stole it.  Or he didn't understand that he did not own it.  This is incredibly exasperating.  

'BoyTwo, did you take this from someone at school?'

'Yes.'  at least he's honest.

'Did the person give it to you or did you take it?'

'I take it.'

'Who did you take it from?'

'I don't know.'  Which I believe.  He pays no attention to the world around him.  He calls anyone he knows by the same three names, SethWillGreyson, boy or girl.  Additionally, I don't believe he can recall things easily, even if he wants to.

So, off to school with Huz he goes to turn in the item that was stolen to the principal and have a consequence.  

Anybody else have experience with their FAS kids having 'ownership issues'???

CAPD

***warning.  loooooooooooong***

Monday Three was formally diagnosed with Central Auditory Processing Disorder, aka CAPD, a learning disability called Specific Language Impairment (SLI), along with a possibility of dyslexia.

CAPD is a group of problems that can occur individually or in combinations with one or more aspects of the central auditory process.  It is estimated that approximately 2-3% of the population has this disorder with boys outnumbering girls by 2:1.  People with CAPD do not have hearing loss.  There are ten processes that take place in processing sound once it is detected (heard).  Three has difficulties in seven of these areas.

SLI kids have difficulties with oral language outside the typical range and can be diagnosed by an SLP (speech language pathologist).  A variety of components of oral language may be affected (grammatical and syntactic development e.g., correct verb tense, word order and sentence structure, semantic development e.g. vocab knowledge, and phonological development.  Three is affected in all of these areas.  SLI kids may also have receptive or expressive difficulties.  Three has difficulties in both areas.  

If you're a little confused and overwhelmed by that information, join the club.  Prior to Monday, I had heard of CAPD back when Two was diagnosed with SPD (Sensory Processing Disorder).  I knew a precious little about it, but enough to know some of the 'red flags' for it, yet somehow had totally missed them.  Needless to say, I have had several sleepless nights as I have read and tried to comprehend pages of information provided by the doctor, scoured the internet and searched out other articles. 

Now that it's been almost a week, I feel more informed about CAPD, more stressed about finding therapy for it and far more aware of Three than I was before.

Interestingly, CAPD is a sensory related disorder as all of the steps for auditory processing happen on the sensory input side of things.  Two has a sensory disorder.  Hmm.  Is this hereditary??  These sensory related problems?  I don't know the answer to that yet.  There are certain aspects of sensory related problems that can be hereditary, but as far as sensory problems being hereditary?  Not sure.  

Let me relay the above information to you in a way that may make more sense.  At least in a way that makes more sense to me:

Last school year, when Three was tested for special ed due to extreme reading difficulties, she was denied services due to doing remarkably well on the tests.  However, at that time, it was discovered that she had a 'language impairment' and qualified for speech therapy.  It is important to note that this therapy is NOT for pronunciation/articulation of words as I once thought all speech therapy was for.  She was receiving therapy for expressive and receptive language skills.  Remember those words from the third paragraph above?  At the time of the IEP meeting, I did not realize that they were diagnosing her with something.  I was busy trying to figure out how she had done so well on her testing and why they were not going to help her when she could. not. read.  I simply thought that they recognized she had a little problem with both receptive and expressive language and that they were able to approve her for therapy for that.  Basically, I knew that she had a problem with this, but I didn't realize it was a learning disability or the extent to which she was affected by it.  Even after seeing their test scores.  I still was thinking that the school speech pathologist was just being really nice.  This was not a primary concern of mine.  Now it is.  It has been spelled out for me in a much more concise form.  I have learned a whole lot more about it.  Evidently it's a much bigger deal than I realized and while the speech pathologist is nice, she wasn't just being nice.

CAPD.  Let me relate this to something you may be more familiar with:  A person can have 20/20 vision and still be color blind.  Their eyes see just fine, their brain does not, for some reason, process color.  Three can hear just fine.  Her brain, for some reason, does not process sound the same way ours does.  What is this like??  Two examples.  

1) Have you ever been on a phone call with someone who is on their cell phone and they have terrible reception?  Or maybe you are the one on your cell and it has bad reception.  You are only hearing about every three words and the words you do hear, you are only hearing parts of?  I'm very familiar with this phenomenon.  We have TERRIBLE reception up here in the mountains where we live.  During the whole conversation you are trying SO HARD to figure out what the person is saying and trying to decode those words that you only heard a part of.  If your kids are being loud, you tell them to shush.  If you have the radio on, you turn it off in an effort to eliminate other noise so that you can better focus on the phone call you are straining to hear.  If you are driving and it's a call that you must stay with, you may even pull over because it is taking too much of your attention to continue driving and conversing.  That's pretty much how it is for Three.  When I heard this I was pretty skeptical, but I have the audiology reports to prove it.  Hard to be skeptical with that sort of information in your face.

2) I am SO grateful that I attempted to learn some Russian prior to my trip to Ukraine.  For far more reasons now than I was aware of then.  This is a HUGE blessing in my being able to somewhat understand what Three is going through.  This next example has to do with that.  When I went to Ukraine, I had learned the cyrillic alphabet.  This proved to be enormously helpful as I was able to read everything.  Even though I often read slowly, I could read it.  Because I had started to learn the Russian language, there were a few words I even understood.  When I read our court documents (the ones in cyrillic), I could read it all.  I could not understand but maybe half of it.  And just because I could read it all did NOT mean that I could pronounce it all correctly.  Also, when engaging in conversations with natives, I relied heavily on body language, facial expressions and the few basic words I was familiar with so that I could catch the jist of the conversation.  It was enormously helpful for people to speak to me more slowly than they typically would as it took extra time for me to process what they were saying.  When people speak quickly it often sounds as though they are saying one big, huge, long word (if you doubt me, let me tell you about BoyTwo who would. not. quit. singing 'eyelockamoomamooma' over and over and over.  What was he singing??  'I like to move it, move it,' from Madagasca.r.  He STILL thinks it's hilarious that he thought it was one big word.).  When I was in Ukraine I had to really concentrate and focus and decode (break down) the conversation in my head as the person spoke.  Often my response was slightly delayed (maybe only a second or two, but not usually instantaneous).  Not only were they speaking a foreign language with conjugations and masculine and feminine words that would change the ending on words in the entire sentence, they have sounds in their language that do not exist in ours.  They also have sound combinations that are not familiar to us.  This is what English is like for Three.  The same thing may sound different to her every time she hears it.

As for not diagnosing dyslexia at this time?  Although Three presents as though she is dyslexic, studies indicate that as many as 50-75% of people with SLI have problems reading and the statistics indicate similar numbers with CAPD.  Out of the seven people I have found (only one is in real life.  Four were mentioned as part of an article and the other two were blogs that pulled up that are not current) that have CAPD, three are also diagnosed dyslexics and the other three have significant reading struggles.  The last one is the real life person.  I actually only know her aunt and she wasn't sure about the reading thing.  It is possible that Three's reading difficulties are simply (haha as if any of this is simple) due to her SLI or CAPD.  

It is overwhelming to me, as I research therapies to improve Three's ability to process sound, that there are not very many options and that the options available all have conflicting reports of progress.  Where one person has significant improvements with one therapy, another has few.  Unfortunately all of these therapies are quite expensive (of course, not necessarily because they are trying to take advantage of you but because they are so intense.  Each one recommended to me by the doctor involves a minimum of 3 days a week, with 5 days a week being the recommendation, for at least one hour each session).   These therapies also take time to see results as we are literally trying to teach her brain something that it never learned, not to mention the fact that she is about two full years behind in her language development.  So it's not feasible that I 'try' something out for a few months without taking a loss either monetarily or time-wise if something doesn't work out.

How did I miss this??  How do you not notice that your kid cannot process language??  I don't know.   I did beat myself up over this briefly, and still do a few times a day, but in the end have decided it's not worth it.  I don't have time to feel bad about not figuring this out.  Also, I can think the same question two different ways:  why me?  1) was it something I did wrong when I was pregnant? etc, or 2) why did the Lord choose to bless me with this particular child who has this particular struggle?  He must have something up his sleeve.  I need to figure out how we are to use this to bless us and others.  

But really, I'm sure some of you are sincerely wondering how in the world I missed this and for you, I do have a few logical explanations.  Because she has poor language skills, Three cannot adequately express herself to me.  Because her sister right above her in age also has language difficulties that are/were more prevalent, Three's language difficulties didn't seem so bad.  It's hard to know that something is wrong when it seems to be so much better than the same thing in someone else.  Does that make sense??  There have been times before (but really only a few over the course of three + years of schooling) when she has told me, 'I didn't finish my worksheet because I couldn't hear how to do it.  It was too loud to hear my teacher.'  People, she's in second grade.  As this is not something she complains about frequently or even often, I thought it was a volume or sound issue.  I merely thought the kids in the class were just being kind of loud that day and that she literally couldn't hear the teacher very well over the noise.  Also, because this is how it has ALWAYS been for her, she doesn't know anything different and therefore does not complain about it hardly at all.  Every day she struggles with this.  (It's just like when I quit eating dairy and realized how sick I had been feeling every single day.  I didn't ever know until it had been taken care of.  I knew that I didn't feel great, but I had no idea I was feeling so badly because it was how I had always felt for my entire life.)  At home??  Well, I have one special needs child already, Two.  The way I interact with her carries over into how I interact with all of my other children.  Many of the ways I interact with her and the way we do things at our house already are 'recommended interventions' in how I ought to interact with Three.  Because I was always doing these things with her, I didn't notice anything odd.  There wasn't a time when I was NOT doing these things to notice something was awry.  Add to that, recently, two children that do not speak the same language as we do and we do a lot of pictures and body language and use few words (hard to believe, I know) when giving directives.  

Anyhow, enough words from someone who routinely uses limited spoken words at home:)