Homeschooling

I've been kicking around the idea of homeschooling for months now. It's getting to be more common everywhere, but also in the special ed world. Parents are finding out that there aren't adequate programs out there to teach our difficult, complicated children. Some districts are great and have plenty of services. Others (like ours) aren't so great at even educating the neuro-typical kids. Taz wouldn't stand a shot. He may even be out-placed to a therapeutic school, for some not a bad thing, for me, a tragedy (because of a bad experience I had working in a therapeutic school several years ago. I haven't gotten over it and I have a personal vendetta against them).

Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe public school could meet his developmental, educational, emotional, social, and sensory needs. Wow. That's a long list of needs isn't it? I'm barely able to meet them and I have only one other child to look after and no pressure to pass standardized testing. I have all the time in the world to study him and understand him and all the motivation in the world to help him succeed. But even with all that, even with being his mother, I can't always do it. I can't always keep him interested in learning or motivated to challenge himself. I can't always keep him focused for longer than 2 minutes on a task. If I can't do it, how can a teacher with at least 10 other kids to worry about do it?

So I have decided to homeschool. And I fully admit I might be out of my mind. This may not work. I might go crazy. I may not be able to teach him. Taz may not be able to learn from me. I don't really know what's going to happen. But I'm going to try. And he's only four. So if it goes horribly wrong, it's only preschool right? Right?

What We Really Want From You....

Our supporters, friends and family (in my opinion).

1. Listen without judgment. That's right, shut your trap and just listen.

2. Offer educated advice. Key word is educated. Yes, that means you have to dust off that book we may have given you. Or check out some links online. If you don't know what to say, go back to number one. It's okay just to listen.

3. Get to the know the child. All children need role models and special people in their lives. Bipolar kids especially do since they usually feel like no one likes them. They may lose friends at school and frustrate teachers.

4. Offer help. If you really care, get off your butt and help. That doesn't mean you have to babysit a mentally ill child (although that would be nice too). But parents have to grocery shop, which can be very difficult if not impossible with a special needs child. Some of us also have other children who may need a break, or who get tired of being dragged to all the doctor and therapy appointments. There's also laundry to be folded and meals to be cooked. Believe me, anything helps. Oh, and we won't ask out right because we don't want you to feel obligated or inconvenienced. We also feel guilty and ashamed about needing help.

5. Treat us like your other friends/family, but also realize our lives are different. And don't get frustrated if we're not always at our best. Because we are under a constant barrage of stress. So cut us some slack if we snap once and a while.


***Edit to add: Tell me I’m doing a great job and that I’m a good mother. I need to hear this often for encouragement by Mama Bear.

***Edit to add: Ask us how our kids are doing, just the same as you would a child with cancer by Jennifer.

***Edit to add: One thing I wish people would work on is learning the difference between pity and sympathy. Nobody wants to be pitied! But most of all? Number one, just like you said: Listen. You can't "fix" it for us and we don't expect you to. Just be there to listen and care. Oh, also? Anyone, anytime, is welcome to clean my bathrooms. By Adrienne.



Did I miss anything? Post a comment on what you'd like others to know and I'll edit the post to add it.

Opening a Can of Worms

Well, it seems as if I got myself tangled in an online anti-psychiatry "discussion". Now I know never ever to do that again. The reason I commented in the first place was because I'm so tired of parents being displayed as "manipulated by TV commercials", pawns the doctors use to get paid by pharmaceutical companies, or "duped" into believing anything anyone says about their child. As if we don't have a brain in our heads! As if we don't know every inch of our children inside and out!

It would have helped their cause if they had been raising a child with mental illness. Or at least empathetic to those who are (or if since they don't believe in childhood MI, at least that our children are difficult and exhausting). The blog in which the debate started was at Raising Bipolar. I respect Meg because she balances caution with realism. Yes, none of us wants our child to be on medication. Or to even present symptoms that need medication. But what these anti-psychiatry pushers don't understand, because they aren't living it, is how heart-breaking it is to see your child living a nightmare. And maybe, if they don't have kids at all, they don't understand how we would do anything to protect our children because it is our natural instinct to do so.

I asked what the alternative to medication is. When you have a child displaying concerning symptoms, when they are struggling day to day just to function, if we don't use medication to help them stabilize, what should we do?

Mostly I received lots of vague and generalized suggestions.

One of which was therapy. Yes, therapy absolutely has it's place in the mental health world. And Taz does go to play therapy 1/2 hour a week... and plays with puppets. He's four! How much therapy can a four year old take?

Dh and I have been taught how to use therapeutic techniques in working with him. But as one of the anti-medication commenters pointed out, it takes a lot of time. Time that Taz does not have. He is only four once. He only has one childhood to live. If I felt that medication was taking that childhood away from him, causing "cognitive dulling" as one put it, you can bet your a$ I would take him off immediately. But, unfortunately for the anti-whatever crowd, it is helping him.

I don't think of medication as a quick fix. I think Taz will need it for the long term. But if, as a teenager or older, he would like to try using therapy to deal with his symptoms without medication, I will be more than supportive. But as he gets older, he will (hopefully) gain the ability to use introspection to guide his decisions. At four, I mean come on, his life revolves around cars and worms!

And I'm curious as to how the anti-medication crowd would use therapy to help a child have consistent sleep patterns? Last I knew REM sleep has to do with brain chemistry. It has a biological base. Is that okay to treat with medication since sleep deprivation is so detrimental to physical health? Or should we let our young children live on insignificant amounts of a very important part of our health and well-being? After all, during certain REM cycles is when growth hormones are released. Potentially, our children could be stunted physically by not intervening with sleep disorders. Is there a place for medication in that scenario? If so, why not for other brain chemistry issues? Ah well. I guess I'll never know.

Anyway, I didn't get much out of the debate, except maybe a harder look at Taz and his options. And maybe even greater confirmation that we are doing the right thing. Because when it comes down to it, I have to do something. I can't wait around for him to be old enough for the correct therapy while he loses his childhood to rage and depression.

Someone also mentioned RAD (Reactive Attachment Disorder), which is treated with intensive therapy and can overlap with bipolar symptoms. It can also be common for children who've been adopted out of not-so-great environments. We looked good and hard at this disorder to see if Taz fits. And he just doesn't. The key ingredients for a RAD kid are; pushing away significant relationships, no discernment between strangers and family, lacking empathy, inability to give or receive love, controlling, lying and manipulative behaviors (Taz has no ability to do either), not being genuine or real in emotional engagement, and passive aggression. Taz lacks all of these traits. Really the only thing he has in common with a RAD kid is that he is defiant, moody, and violent, which is also part of bipolar. Taz has a very appropriate relationship with us, as his parents. He comes to us for comfort, he is wary of strangers, and he has the ability to show true love and affection with us. Sure, he's a little over-dependent, that could be a result of anxiety or bipolar or his early childhood. But it's nowhere near the same as full-blown RAD.

Maybe if the shoe was on the other foot, if these naysayers had a child with "issues", they would choose to allow that child to suffer while attempting every other resources except the one thing that could help, medication. But for me, I'm choosing life. And I don't mean that he would die without medication (although some do), I mean that his quality of life might be decreased. Maybe if I wasn't willing to take the risk and try medication Taz would go on to live a long life with no health complications. Maybe. But what's the point of life without happiness?

Looks of Sympathy? Well That's a Change!

We are seriously having some trouble in public lately! I don't know what's going on but I'm scared to take Taz out now. Maybe I should take a break from it for a while and stay home. But I go stir-crazy probably more than the kids do.

Anyway, got two more stories for ya. Yes, two!

All of us went to Home Depot this weekend to pick out some paint for the new house we're renovating. Taz is obsessed with Dh. Obsessed. I think it's normal for his age. He's a daddy's boy and with Dh always working on the house so we can move Taz doesn't see him as much as usual. So naturally he relishes the time he can get with him.

Taz was pretty good through most of the trip until the very end. He kept wanting to push the cart. The problem is he is not a very good driver and kept crashing it into shelves. So I told him he couldn't do it anymore. But he is very defiant. He kept trying until I placed him in the cart, which he barely fits anymore. Dh had him in a couple aisles down from where I was looking at paint with Chica and I could hear him screaming. Very. Loudly.

I actually thought about yelling "Hey! Control your kid!" out loud in Dh's direction. But I thought he might kill me for that ;)

Instead I pushed him out to the car to wait until Dh was done. On our way out I got an "Oh My God!" mouthed in my direction. Which was odd to me because Taz was just screaming. He's done way worse than that.


My next story happened just yesterday. Stick with me cause the best part is at the end. I took the kids to our local mall to kill some time because it was cold outside. In our mall there is a kid's play land with slides, tunnels, and space to run around. Chica is at an age where she loves this place. Everything is her size and nice and soft so she can't really get hurt. Taz likes it too, but it's overstimulating for him to be there for too long. But I wanted to give Chica a chance to play. Remember, one of my motto's is "we do have another kid". I don't want to leave Chica out in left field.

Well Taz was off. Way off. This was Dh's fault. He was in charge of the kids Saturday morning cause I went to work early. He didn't give Taz his meds. He forgot. I think that's why Taz was so off.

He was all over the place. Extremely paranoid of the other children. He was screaming at them to stop looking at him. He was completely out of control. Again, I stayed calm. I pulled him aside a couple times to calm him down and talk him through the feelings. Finally, Taz jumped up on the my lap and pulled desperately at my neck, and it was clear he was out of sorts and just didn't know what to do with himself. He said I want to go. What he really meant was I NEED to go!

So we left. But even putting our shoes on was a difficult task. Taz couldn't slow down enough to sit still so I could put them on him. Taz can not put his shoes on himself. He can't get himself dressed either. He doesn't have much independence at all, even for a four year old.

As I looked around at the parents in the play area, I thought for sure I would be met with some nasty looks and head shaking. But there wasn't any. All I saw was sympathy. When I looked around I realized they felt bad for me!

Good, in a way. But have we really gotten that bad? So bad that it's painfully obvious that there is something going on with my son? Something that isn't over-indulgent lazy parenting!

I don't actually know what anyone there was thinking. Maybe they felt bad for him that I was such an awful parent! Either way. It shocked me. And I'm not sure if it's in a good way or a bad way.

It's times like these I'm glad I'm not a celebrity (although one could argue the basis of
why Octo-mom is a celebrity in the first place?)

Alphabet Soup

There is a term in the special needs world (or is it just for mental illness?) called "co-morbidity". It basically means conditions that occur together. As in; bipolar with comorbid ADHD. But the word, to me, means - the other thing he's going to die from. I mean, co-morbid? Does anyone else think it's weird?

Anyway, back to the topic. Bipolar can occur with other complications, is my point. Things like attention disorders, anxiety disorders, conduct disorder, learning disabilities, and even autism. Parents sometimes refer to this as the "alphabet soup" effect. This can happen before you even know it. You start going to professionals to get help with bipolar disorder and suddenly your child is diagnosed with BP, OCD, ODD, ADHD, SID, NLD, and ASD. See where the alphabet soup term comes from?

My personal feeling about it is to leave kids with as few labels as possible. Many many of these conditions have overlapping symptoms. There is no doubt in my mind that Taz has very clear signs of bipolar disorder. That is his primary diagnosis, even though he would fall into the category of some others. The only other condition I acknowledge separately (for Taz specifically. I absolutely acknowledge autism as a whole other diagnosis) is SID, or Sensory Integration Disorder. Also known as Sensory Processing Disorder, a term I like better. Taz, literally, has trouble processing sensory stimulus. Although it often occurs with Bipolar and many other things, for us, it's an entirely different diagnosis from the bipolar.

I wanted to give SID it's own post because it effects our everyday life, just like bipolar does. The ways this presents for Taz are:

- Sensory craving; this is a boy who swims in sand. You think I'm joking but he literally does the breast stroke on his belly in the sand. He rolls in it, dumps it on his head, and covers himself in it. Anything can be a sensory experience for Taz. He loves squeezy balls, gak, gummy worms, spiky balls, rice and beans in a bucket, and all that good tactile stuff.

- Ironically, after swimming in the sand, the next day he might scream about a small wet spot on his shirt and want to change it immediately.

- Gross-motor sensory seeking; Taz loves crashing, jumping, rolling, clapping, and stomping. This is called proprioceptive input. Every morning when he wakes up, the first thing Taz does is stomp around the house clapping his hands and making strange noises. My theory is that he's giving himself the sensory input he needs because he's wound up and it helps him get the pent up energy out. It also organizes his system so he can get ready for the day.

- Ironically, Taz is also very cautious. It's pretty weird, to me, that he has no problem crashing head first on the couch pillows but then won't climb up a ladder on a playscape. He is very insecure when he's off the ground. He is extremely afraid of heights. This is called vestibular or gravitational sensitivity. It takes a long time to coax him to try new activities involving being off the ground. He goes to private OT once a week and we are working on this, but I don't think rock climbing or rappelling will ever be in his future.

- Noise sensitivity; Taz hates loud noises. He is so scared of alarms he won't even walk by our home alarm system on the wall. Sudden noises scare him and he has a tough time recovering. Ironically (there are lots of contradictions with Taz), he is the loudest person I know. Therapists think he drowns out noises he doesn't like with his own voice. That's why when Chica cries or when I vacuum, Taz will yell as loud as he can (giving everyone else a headache).

- Pushing; this is one of Taz's favorite things to do. Push things around. It's one of the main ways he gets the sensory input he needs. I find if he's really wound up, I take him outside and have him push Chica in the stroller, or his car (the kind he used to sit to ride when he was littler) up and down our bumpy road. It works. While we're renovating our new house and basically living in two houses I've taken some of Taz's toys to the new house so he would play while we work. One day we were outside our old house and despite there being a multitude of toys in the yard, including slides, climbing equipment, dump trucks, balls, etc...Taz paced around saying what me push? over and over until we went inside because it got so annoying.

- Rocking; Oh the rocking! Let's see. How can I make this clear? Taz is always rocking. This happens in several ways. Every night, since he was a baby, Taz has rocked himself to sleep. (Remember, I didn't have him until he was 14 months old, he's adopted from foster care. He started rocking long before he came to us). He lies on his back, he holds his stuffed cow on his face, and he rocks violently side to side for at least 15 minutes, usually longer, until he falls asleep. That's one way. Another way he rocks is with his head. We call this the "Stevie Wonder". He literally does exactly what Stevie Wonder does when he sings. Taz rocks his head side to side, usually when he's happy. I've seen him do it at school during circle time, in the car, in front of a fan, listening to music, pretty much whenever he is not crashing or pushing. The last way I've seen him rock is when he's agitated and anxious. This is usually when he's also depressed. He will stand near me and sway his body back and forth while whining or just being overall anxious. He will also lie down on the couch and do the rocking motion like he does when he goes to sleep anytime he's coming down from a rage or being upset. I think it calms him down. Sometimes we even tell him to go rock on the couch so that he'll calm down.

- Ironically (yes, again), he hates swings!

Taz playing in a whirlpool at our childrens science museum.

Our psychologist initially thought Taz was on the autism spectrum because of all this sensory stuff. And he does have some autistic traits. But not enough to qualify for the diagnosis.

So...does anyone else's kid(s) have sensory needs?

It's a Case of the Love Bipolar

This is what I hear on a daily basis...

Mommy, I hate you!

5 minutes later

I love you Mommy.

Me: But you just said you hated me a minute ago.

No! I love you!

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I miss Daddy. I love him. I don't like you Mommy. I like Daddy.

5 minutes later

I love you Mommy. I miss you.

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I HATE "Chica"!!!

5 minutes later when Chica is crying

Don't worry Chica, I kick Mommy for you. I shoot you Mommy!

5 minutes later

I want Chica die. I hate her.

5 minutes later he's holding her hand.



It must feel weird to slingshot back and forth so quickly.

A New Appreciation for Happiness

I have another blog. One that I keep separate from this one because it contains real names and pictures of my kids. I don't want the general public knowing these intimate details about my son but I needed an outlet to discuss bipolar disorder.

I've been blogging for 2 years now. A little over a year ago I wrote this post below.


It always makes me laugh when I hear people's response to a common question, "What do you wish for your children?"

The number one, most common response is, Happiness.

Well that's just crap. Happiness is an emotion. Emotions aren't permanent. If they are, you probably need help. Permanent sadness is depression. Permanent anxiety is a disorder. Permanent perkiness is just annoying. Of all the qualities, characteristics, values, and strengths you would wish for your child, why would someone pick happiness?

For me, I would wish for my children to be honest, have self-confidence, be compassionate, independent, have strong values, stand up for themselves, and know they are loveable and know how to love others. I know that's a tall order. But hopefully, we'll do something right as parents and our children will turn out less messed up than we are.

But happiness? I don't know, maybe it's just me, but I don't wish eternal happiness on my children. What can one learn from that? Sadness, grief, despair is a natural part of life. I don't want my kids to be sheltered from the real world. Yes, life is hard. People let you down. Bad things happen. But to not experience that part of life, is to not experience life to the fullest. With the bad, you also have the good. And if anything, I want my children to live. Really live. And that means going through an array of emotions and experiences, even bad ones.

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Things have changed since then. Obviously. I was blissfully ignorant when I wrote this. I still thought my son's issues were because he was a "spirited child". And this is not the first time I've eaten my words.

Happiness sounds pretty good to me right now.

When I think of Taz's future, all I can hope for is some amount of happiness. Whether he goes to college and enters the career of his dreams or whether he flips burgers at a diner, if he can find some kind of joy in life, I will be satisfied. Even if he just has a hobby that he enjoys, that will be enough for me. Out of jail, off of drugs. That's what Dh and I hope for. You might think our standards are low. I think they are very high.