Resourcefulness

So about 3 weeks ago, my boys were in the back seat of the van, fighting over a stuffed animal and they tore the tail off. I put the toy in the trash as punishment. "If you can't play nice..." you know the drill.

Fast forward to today when I saw Little Ham playing with that same toy, beautifully repaired.
Apparently he took the broken toy out of the trash and then to school, where he told his best girl friend how mean I am. SHE took it home to her mom, who repaired the toy for my son. I don't know this other mom.

Now we have to go to this girl's birthday party on Saturday and deal with the super judge face that I know is waiting for me there. #momcantwin

Seeing Clearly Now

As I mentioned in my last post (sorry for the super psycho lingo in that one, btw) Little Ham was getting new glasses. They arrived on Tuesday, and for the first time in his life, Little Ham can see 20/20.

Little Ham has no memory of ever being able to see, and it has had behavior consequences in school and at home (IE: refusing to read,  standing up in front of the TV, etc). As we were leaving the eye doctor, he listed off things he can see now -- birds in the sky, blades of grass, texture in rocks, and of course, wrinkles on Mom's face.

He continues to talk with amazement about the things he can see, even several days later. He talks with wonder about how his eyes hurt when he takes his glasses OFF. His biggest discovery so far is that news print is made of just tiny dots if you look close enough at it.

I am so happy and sad for him at the same time. I am very happy that he can see now, and that he understands good vision even looks like. At the same time, I ache for him that this has been a years-long struggle for him and nobody has been able to help him until now.

During earlier eye tests he would trigger out about somewhere during the exam, and just stop answering the questions truthfully after he triggered. His prescriptions came out completely wacky after this half-participation/hostility/lying. Little Ham said his first pair of glasses was so off that he could not see to walk.

He admitted that my going into the exam room with him helped to keep him calm and focused through the exam and helped him answer truthfully to questions about what he could/couldn't see in the eye tests. And I wish that I had been able to be there for him earlier. More often. Always.

But we look ahead, not back. Things are ok now and will only get better for him. I just need to remember which way to turn my eyes.

Where we began

So now that I'm all sentimental about how far the family has come, I wanted to share where we came FROM. When Little Ham arrived, he was diagnosed with this: RAD (if you have time try to read this, it's a lot)

We believed that he had RAD, but also didn't... because we couldn't get our heads around what RAD was or what it would mean to our family. I must have read that page 100 times, looking for clues for us and coming out with a general sense of hopelessness. "HOW CAN YOU DEAL WITH SOMEONE WHO DOESN'T UNDERSTAND THE PASSAGE OF TIME?"

Once he arrived. we didn't have much of a chance to look back at the article, it's the only one we've found that really lays out the IWM.

This week I looked back at it. Little Ham had a giant dose of the anxiety, omnipotence, hyper-vigilance, scarcity, and dissociation. His emotional regulation was undeveloped, and he was very temporal. Basically the whole article with the exception of Indiscriminate affection applied to him quite well

We have been able to make significant progress with memory, hyper-vigilance, scarcity, Dissociation, Victim-hood, Temporal experience, Integration, language discipline and Consequences, adult attention, Discipline and Consequences, and boundaries. We still struggle with  emotional experience, Information and Power, and Nuisance behaviors. Oh the Nuisance behaviors.

Here they are, clipped from the article. You can see where they would be problematic:

Information & Power:  Information is power and AD children know this very well.  They will go to great lengths to control the flow of information about them in order to maintain their power to manipulate others' image of them.  AD children give out very little real information about themselves, for they view that as giving their power away to others.  Telling the truth, therefore, is to be avoided as a matter of policy, and adult urgings to do so can be seen as attempts to steal the child’s power because the adults want it for themselves.  Much of the fabricating of AD children is intended to keep adults confused about what's real and what isn't.  When asked questions, AD children often stall by “playing dumb” or “forgetting”, hoping that the adult will get impatient and give a prompt or clue around which the child can fashion an answer that will please the adult while giving away no information. 

Nuisance behaviors: These are frequently occurring, more minor behaviors such as interrupting, noisemaking, asking excessive questions, or relatively incessant chattering that serve multiple purposes: 1) disrupt the simplest of everyday interactions and block relating, 2) ongoing reminders that the AD child is not under the adult’s control, 3) nonstop chattering diverts awareness into left hemisphere language functioning and away from right hemisphere affective awareness (true of excessive verbalization in general), 4) discharge anxiety, and 5) probes the external environment to acquire information about the situation.  From adults’ reactions to these “behavioral probes”, AD children begin to piece together who is punitive and who is supportive; who will respond and who will ignore; who is more structured and who is more lax.  The child with AD is likely to use the responses to his probes to figure out how to “manage” the adults.  

We've been dealing lately with Disassociation in that it is not possible to get Little Ham to tell the truth long enough or consistently enough to get a glasses prescription set. Half way through he shuts down and starts simply grunting or answering "yes" to all the questions, and he then gets glasses he can't see out of. We are now on our third prescription, after he JUST  NOW failed the eye exam at school. so we aren't sure if he was disassociating during the school exam, or during the main eye exam or what. We have an appointment next week for yet another prescription...

Dissociation:  To protect themselves from their own own threatening feelings, AD children learn to dissociate or disconnect themselves from their own experience in the present moment.  Their selective perception is so well honed that AD children can appear to almost shut down parts of their brain in ways the average person cannot comprehend.  Experience itself is erased from consciousness as though it never happened.  Threatening questions, as well as any possible answer that might have immediately arisen can be obliterated right out of awareness.  AD children learn how to move and hold their bodies so as not to trigger physiologically stored emotions and memories.  This primitive denial is beyond the reach of conventional forms of treatment and is a major reason why such treatment tends to fail with AD children.  Overall, this dissociative response is made up of many different tactics including: increased distractibility and fidgeting (can look like AD/HD);  becoming confused; circular answers; vague or contradictory language; inaudible or unintelligible speech; loss of short-term memory; shutting down one or more of their sensory processing systems so they literally don’t experience their own sensory input (can look like learning disabilities except that processing can improve dramatically as attachment  develops); immature and/or faint tone of voice;  loss of eye contact; bodily preoccupations (picking at skin, scabs, bug bites; fingernail chewing, itching and scratching, hair twirling, aches and pains, repetitive movements, playing with fingers).   

 But, we soldier on. It took about a year to even understand that these were RAD behaviors, and now we work on omitting them using behaviorism and modeling. Still more years of work ahead of us, but also so much progress.

In Sickness and In Health

So one of the most surprising parts of adopting is the phenomenon of trying to treat the child when they are ill. Because the child doesn't know you or trust you in any way, the double whammy of feeling lousy, and believing there's no one to turn to is overwhelming.

When Little Ham arrived, the first several illnesses were quite difficult. We were up many times all night long because he wouldn't accept medication, including ear infection antibiotics and aspirin. Sore throats became the stuff of legend (between Hambone and me) and headaches were earth shattering.

As you may know, this year the flu virus has been very severe and ubiquitous. This week all of us got a stomach bug, and tonight Little Ham came down with a sore throat and fever.

I was just upstairs and Little Ham willingly accepted medication from me and told me he loved me after he took it. Sometimes I forget how far our family has come.

This simple action. This profound change.

Life is amazing.

Spoke too soon

Here we are after my glowing post about my mature boys just a few days ago...

Just got a note from the principal -- Hamslice told everyone in his reading group that they were s_____ readers, and then he curled up on the floor in the back of the room and wouldn't interact with anyone for about an hour.

So, hold off there with the maturation awards. There's still work to do. LOL

Mid School-Year Check in

So the ongoing saga of my kids in school has been a source of much amusement with my friends and family.  This year Hamslice is in 5th grade, with Little Ham in 4th grade.

The year started out a little rough, with Little Ham finding it hilarious to swear like a sailor and discuss the concept of 'sexiness' in 4th grader lingo, including the phrases "sexy penis" and "sexy butt," punctuated with slaps to the heinies of both girls and boys. The school administration [ahem] frowns on such behavior.

Hamslice, meanwhile, entered the semester like an asteroid entering the atmosphere. Much as he does each year.

As of mid-year we are actually doing OK. Little Ham has figured out that he has the smarts to do all of the work required of him at school, so now he's a little cocky. He has these big diorama projects this year, and he waits until the *very last possible minute* and cranks them out in 5 minutes and gets "A"s.  This has Hambone and I gobsmacked, after years of listening to Hamslice's languid arguments about the theory of school and the appropriateness of the projects and the existential need for dioramas. We had forgotten that the projects can simply "get done" without all the drama.

Hamslice is in all advanced classes but pulling solid Bs - Ds because he fails to see the point of the details in his projects. Or the projects themselves, also what is the point of school. And life. He is testing out at mid high-school levels in all subjects, so we are not super concerned with his grades. It's probably just time for middle school for that one. Or maybe a year in a commune.

The boys are into 'full time brother' mode with just glimmers of transition still. For instance, Little Ham and Hamslice still fight about who gets to go into whose bedroom and when, but Little Ham is sometimes inclined to push too far and then when Hamslice gets mad, Little Ham breaks into gibberish speech and overly defiant behavior.

Little Ham is working hard right now on controlling his silliness. One of his defense mechanisms is to move into a near-manic state where he is just giggles and sillies and not at all able to function. It's a form of helplessness, combined with aggravating behaviors. Pretty neat. So obviously that is our focus right now.

Hamslice has matured an incredible amount this year. It's like a packet of neurons plugged in somewhere in his brain and he is now able to see outside of himself and understand other peoples' feelings and how his actions fit into these feelings. Typical Hamslice, he has lagged behind in this area for years, and then once he gets started figuring it out, he takes off like a rocket.

Our strange little family is a full-fledged unit, and functioning as one. So far so good, but already I see signs that the end of school year update will have some zingers.

The Magic of Laughter

I am not sure if this happens in every family, but my family tends to devolve into greedy and ungrateful little monsters over the Holiday season. It has something to do with the anticipation of gifts and the disappointment with the reality of gifts. As we all know, NO GIFT WILL EVER LIVE UP TO THE EXPECTATION OF A CHILD.

Our best move is to open gifts and then immediately leave for a vacation. All the gifts sit in the house untouched while we're gone, and then when we return, they are suddenly fun to play with. I don't get it but it works.

Even with these great strategies, by about the middle of January we had ground to a halt -- there's no sun, it was freeeezing cold outside, everyone was grouchy and we were all mad at each other for every and no reason...

Then we had a bit of magic. Oddly enough it came in the form of tickling. Both boys decided that they liked to be tickled, and we started having these half-hour long tickling matches, where we all poked each other in the bellies and brushed the soles of our feet and of course jammed tiny fingers into the armpits.

The sound of their laughter, real belly laughs, was like medicine for the family. They heard us laugh, they laughed with each other, and the sound healed us.We bonded over the laughter.

Since the laughing, we are doing so well. We are all friendlier with each other and there's less competition for attention from the boys, they each know they can come over for a welcome laughing match and we all grow together.

Note to self: Laughing. Remember that.

Visit from G&G

This weekend we had a nice visit with G&G. We were able to visit and catch up with each other, and Grandpa even rolled out his famous "Donald Duck Voice" for the boys. The next day they spent a great deal of time in the car trying to replicate the voice themselves.

Cub Souts Campout

Last weekend was the Cub Scout Campout for my little dudes. They LOOOOVED it so much -- they got their tent setting up merit badge and Little Ham showed the counselors that he could light a fire from the embers of the fire from the night before.

They are definitely "into" the outdoorsy stuff now, even though the temperature overnight plummeted to 42 degrees. They didn't sleep much, if at all, and we have been paying the price with poor behavior ever since, but they did have fun.

Here are pics of them next to the tent they set up together:

And of course, we needed to do some 'dabbing' in at least one of the photos.

Heart-to-Heart Talks

On Tuesday it was my night to put the boys to bed, and Little Ham and I had a spontaneous heart-to-heart talk about the family and chores and what working means, and why things can't just be fun and playing all the time. We have these every now and then and they are super special.

Meanwhile, Hamslice was in his bedroom across the hall getting jealouser and jealouser as the moments ticked by. So as I was leaving Little Ham's room, Hamslice called me into his room for his own heart-to-heart talk.

His talk was a little different. He told me about "Ryan, Ryan, Ryan and Ryland" (you can't make this up, people). From what I understand, one of the Ryans is a girl) who were going through everyone's lockers at recess and how Hamslice was getting nervous about that. I asked him if there was another kid in the group named "Brian" to round out the names and he laughed.

Once downstairs, I told Hambone about the RYANS plus RYLAND and we reminisced about Federal Hill prep where Hamslice's classmats were "Shawn, Shaundra, Tyshawn and Deshaun."

Oh hey, also we are two weeks into school and so far no phone calls home about either boy. THIS IS A WORLD RECORD, FOLKS!!!

+1 for the Menagerie

About a week ago, Hambone noticed a bird in his warehouse. Not just any ordinary bird, but a genuine Cockatiel. So, being the Bird Whisperer, (see earlier posts about his ability to woo the geese at Dutch Wonderland) he lured the Cockatiel into a cardboard box, then into a dog crate, and then a bird cage in succession. After getting to know this bird a bit, I see what a feat this was.

So the bird is a beautiful addition to the household. But, since it was a pet that then escaped and had "God knows what" happen to it in the wild, and then had a day-long adventure with Hambone, I can see where it is legitimately a little weird.

And the weird runs deep, man. For instance, the bird loves to look at itself in a mirror, and the bigger the mirror the better. If you remove the mirror, the bird SCREAMS until the mirror is restored, and then when he sees himself in the mirror again, he makes a noise like "Hey buddy, I missed you. What's been happening since we last spoke?"

He is also pretty bad at flying. When he did try it one day in the house, he tried to land on the moldings above the doors. In order to make this tricky landing, he crashed his whole body into the wall and sort of stuck his feet down. And then because there are no mirrors up there, he just screamed the whole time until he got back into his cage.

 The boys (all of them except for the dogs) LOVE the bird. We have named him "Bob" but Hamslice also calls him "silver wing" which is a favorite Pokemon character (or something). They love cleaning the cage and feeding him and just watching him. They can't play with this pet, though, because if they stick their fingers in the cage, the bird does a full-body peck. Even though that doesn't hurt very much, the visual is stunning.

The bird also really can't stand certain kinds of voices. I have my phone on speaker all day, and when certain people call (uncle Curt in particular) the bird starts chattering away. When I have conference calls, therefore, the bird cage has to move into the kitchen where, you guessed it, there are no mirrors. So during the conference call there is constant, faint screaming in the background.  I wonder if they notice.

So... bird. +1 to the pet list.

Family Camp

This summer we went to Medomak Family Camp for the second year in a row. This is a healing place for our family -- we go and relax and learn things like stone carving and rope making, and come back a stronger family for it. I am not sure why it works but it does.

 This is us on our way up to Maine -- we stopped for lobster dinner at one of the many lobster places right on the water. I believe this was in Portland. I wore the bib, Hambone was too classy for that. Only one of us smelled like lobster juice for the rest of the night. Hint: It was me.

 This is the beach at Medomak, where we spend every afternoon. Activities are in the morning, and then all the families at camp just chill at the beach all afternoon.

 During one of the activities (SKEG) which is a hybrid soccer game, Little Ham accidentally bumped heads with one of the other kids. Oh so many hugs that night.

 This is my "Catch of the Day" -- we went fishing on the pontoon boat and caught several fish about this size. It was fun, even if we didn't get enough to make a meal. We also saw a Bald Eagle swoop out of the sky and capture one of our little fishes that we caught. That fish flopped around on the surface of the water for *just* too long.

 This is Hamslice and Little Ham playing on the moose sculpture at camp.

 And this is us at the Life Sized Chocolate Moose display at the candy store in Portland ME.

 On one of the mornings, Hambone and I took a cheese making class with Holly, the owner of the camp. We made Mozzarella, and while I was fully planning to catch the "cheese bug" from the class, I have decided to leave it to the professionals.

 The above and below pics on the trail are of all of us walking from the main camp to the beach. It's a hike but well worth it. You'd only want to do it a couple times a day.

 More pics of us at the beach at Medomak

 This is the "sand castle-off" competition between my boys. The other kids in camp got all revved up about it too. Who made the biggest sand castle! WHO!?!  And by What Criteria. *hint* the criteria changed often. Hamslice also won an award for "deepest hole" at camp. It was pretty deep!

 Here we are milking the camp cow. All of the milk and dairy products for the camp are produced by these two cows. Talk about meeting your food. The boys learned a lot about where food comes from during our week.

 This was Little Ham's "war paint" for the camp-wide scavenger hunt. We came in fourth, and were happy with that result. It gives us room to improve next year!!

On TARGET for Shenannigans

Target is my boys' ABSOLUTE favorite store. They beg and beg to go there, and when we arrive, they treat it like a wonderland of retail. And usually one of the two of them, if not both, starts to act up. There is a lot of running ahead of the cart, spinning in circles in the aisles.... lots of movement.

After all these trips to Target, the last time we went there, I OFFICIALLY TIRED of the goofing around. And I believe a little something in me broke. I said to the boys, "THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO SHOP WITH YOU." And I threw my hands up in the air and started racing up and down the aisles, spinning in circles.

Yes there were a lot of stares, and a few knowing smiles from other parents.

The boys slowly started fading away from me into other aisles, so I started shouting, "HEY I AM [LITTLE HAM]'S MOM. AND HE'S RIGHT THERE (pointing at him) AND I LOOOOOOVE HIM!"

Never in their young lives have they been so mortified. Since then, they have been on their absolute best behavior in Target. All I need to say is, "ARE WE PLAYING THE CRAZY IN TARGET GAME AGAIN? I'M IN!!!"

I believe I have won. Just this once, score one for Mom.

End of school year update

 My little boys are starting to grow up. In April, we had a "Come to Jesus" again with the school about Hamslice, where the teachers were frustrated with him again due to his lack of willingness to do any schoolwork. I was completely caught by surprise because *I* thought things were going well, using the adage "no news is good news."

I made a contract with Hamslice, where if he was able to do good work and not have any notes home from his teachers for the rest of the year, he could move his bedtime to 8pm from 7:30. If he didn't keep the contract terms, he owed me $100 payable in sticks @$.03 per stick. (That's over 3000 sticks, for the math challenged who are reading this)

And like a miracle, he fulfilled his contract. Furthermore, he decided that he liked the way he was treated by the teachers and administration when he actually tried a  little. It has been a turnaround that has lasted for 6 weeks now. I am so hopeful.

Meanwhile Little Ham has been making his way as a chorister, and is the creative department for the family. He just completed his King Tut costume for Living Museum day, and it was fabulous. Little Ham has been making huge strides integrating with the family. Yesterday, Hambone and I spent some time comparing this year to last year, and the growth has been really impressive. He is one of the family more often than he is trying to not be part of the family. We're at about 80/20 now, vs last year at 10/90.

The boys are also experimenting with driving go-carts and our golf cart. It's great vestibular stimulation and it provides a feeling of adulthood for the boys. They are so proud of their driving abilities, although Little Ham still corners a little fast in the golf cart, throwing himself out of the vehicle entirely. Hamslice is the self proclaimed expert of driving, and he is now a little critical of everyone's driving.

We also had the pleasure of nursing a baby bunny for a few days -- the boys saw a hawk drop the baby bunny out of its claws, so they took it home. The bunny was so young its eyes were not yet open. We fed it Kitten Milk Replacement and watched as its eyes opened and it became strong enough to hop. The boys liked learning that it takes three swallows for a bunny to drink one drop of milk, and they were sad but hopeful when it was time to say goodbye to it.

A Budding Rock Star

One of the very first things Little Ham told me about himself when he arrived here is this: "I am not going to college because I want to be a rock star when I am an adult."

And so I took that statement just as seriously as any parent would, primarily filing it away for later. But we've been watching Little Ham and have noticed that he knows how to (ahem) project his voice and really control tone.

Fast forward to January of this year, there was a poster for the Maryland State Boys Choir in the school lobby. I asked Little Ham if he wanted to participate, and received an emphatic "YES".

The audition was nerve wracking for him because he knows absolutely nothing about music, but they admired his lower voice (a full octave lower than the other kids, due to his.... ongoing vocal exercises at home...) and willingness to learn.

He had his first rehearsal on Saturday and said it was a "10 out of 10" positive experience. He even did his music theory homework yesterday without complaint.

He really does want to be a singer. It's amazing to watch. 

A Little Potty Humor

My little men have been having trouble lately with remembering to flush the toilet after using it. It's more than just a little annoyance because there are some toilets that only they use, and if neither flushes... well you get the picture.

In the spirit of creative problem solving, Hambone suggested that each boy make a sign to hang on the wall behind these kid toilets to remind them to flush.

The boys set to work immediately. Through the walls we heard Hamslice start mocking Little Ham about how he spelled "flush."

We walked in to find these two signs, one of them creatively spelled "Foosh" (where the Os became the eyes of the character in the drawing). That one was Little Ham's, and he hastily scrawled an "L" into Foosh to correct the spelling.

I then looked at Hamslice's spelling masterpiece, which simply said, "Flosh."

So. Many. Questions

Since Little Ham has started to uncoil, he has been asking the pressing questions that nobody has been there to answer so far in his life. And there are a lot of things he wants to know. Thousands of questions, ranging in magnitude from word definitions to "why does pee smell like popcorn" to "Why does Ellen DeGeneres dress like a man?"

We have deeply enjoyed watching him learn and piece together his world into a more meaningful structure than the incongruous, fractured world of a lonely child. He is able to piece a few things together now on his own and his fear is less because life is starting to make sense.

We're rooting for him, and have lots of answers for his many questions.

Hang in there Little Ham!

There Goes Santa Claus *snif*

I suspect this is the last year of believing in Santa for the boys. They were so excited at the beginning of the holiday season about Santa and being really good and all of that great Santa stuff, however it seems to be wearing off.

Probably some of it is my fault -- Little Ham put out a list for Santa of over $2000 worth of stuff, so "Santa" wrote back and said something along the lines of "I'll bring you joy but not all this crap."

And I see that Santa is real when the boys want something, but when "Santa can see you [doing that naughty thing]" then Santa doesn't exist.

The Elf on the Shelf is getting it square in the teeth. I heard the boys yesterday, discussing how they are pretty sure that Dad moves the Elf every morning before work. "It's either Dad or Mom moving it, for sure."

When people look at your 3 year olds and say, "They grow up so fast," I never really understood that because the little teeny kid phase seems to last forever when you're in it. Now that it's fading, it seems like it was only a heartbeat.

Where does it all go.

Turkey Trot - a story of success and other things.

Thanksgiving morning this year brought Mom to the kitchen and Dad (and the boys) plus Neighbor T to the Baltimore City Turkey Trot 5K run.

There was a great deal of complaining from all three guys, but they dutifully headed out so I could cook Thanksgiving dinner. The race went smoothly (ish) depending on which of our sons you ask, but none the worse for wear.

As my weary racers approached the car to go home, Hamslice tripped over a chunk of concrete and went careering into a ditch. A major cement burn to the face, a black eye and two black knees later, Hamslice arrived home, still sniffling and needing a lot of TLC.

In all of the excitement about Hamslice, nobody really paid attention to the race standings (really with our un-athletic family, who would?) but we should have.

Little Ham had the fastest time in the entire Male 9 and under category for the race. Amazing!! He ran his first 5K with a final time of 29:20

We sent a note to Little Ham's running coach to let her know. We are so proud of him. AND he is proud of himself, which is also really, really good.

A Roadside Chat

This week on Monday, Little Ham refused to get out of the car to go to school. Like... refused. We were in the drop-off zone and he wouldn't budge. It was a new one for me, so I dug deep for a way to handle it. I said this foolishness: "If you won't go to school, then there must be a big problem so we are going to sit here in the driveway and talk about your feelings all day 'till we get to the bottom of it."

And so we sat. We watched all the other parents drop off their kids and saw the buses zoom by until we were all alone. And we sat some more. 45 minutes ticked by.

Finally Little Ham started talking. And talking. and talking. He emptied his poor heart to me, and I felt for the first time that we were connecting as parent and child. He said he is feeling overwhelmed by the new school, and that he is worried every minute of the day that Hamslice is stealing his Pokemon cards, and  and and...

So we devised a plan where we would get him a safe for his room with a combination that only he knows. I also promised to talk to the school administration RIGHT AWAY to make sure they are helping him. We also talked about locks for bedroom doors and other things we can do to solve some of these problems.

That very day Hambone went and bought safes for both kids. I marched right into the school as well and relayed this most urgent request.

The immediate action made an impression on Little Ham. And now he talks to me about lots of other things instead of just asking for hugs and kisses all the time. We are ... connecting.