They're Watching!

I could easily make that title about paranoia (something that I also deal with thanks to anxiety and depression), but what I'm talking about has more far reaching implications.  I'm talking about our children.  You don't always realize that they are paying attention.  As a parent, I can't tell you how many times I've stopped mid-sentence, looked around cautiously, and then whispered some little tidbit to the person across the table because I didn't want my kid to hear it.  I think with words, its easier for us to think about what's age appropriate or what could have a negative impact.  However, we don't always pay attention to what we do and how that affects our kids. I think most parents have uttered the phrase "Do what I say, not as I do" at least once in their parenting careers. It's easy to spout that line, or something similar thereto, but in reality, it's meaningless.  Inevitably your children will repeat your actions and when questioned about it, they will say - "but, but...YOU did it!"

You could take that opportunity to reinforce the "Do what I say" rule, but it's not going to work well.  The truth is, you probably should be doing the right thing in front of them from the beginning.  If you are, then you'll never have to hear "but you did it" as an excuse for their behavior.  This could be applicable to a number of things, but for the purposes of this blog, I want you to think about healthy choices...mentally healthy choices.  I want you to consider how making those choices sets a good example for your kids. Here are 5 simple choices you can make every day that will benefit you, while setting a good example for your child.

1. Drink plenty of water.

In general, people live life on the go, and as a parent that tends to be more true than for non-parents.  Recitals, ballgames, doctor's appointments, meetings, school parties, and play dates and dozens of other things pile up, and we can forget to stay hydrated.  I know this from personal experience.  You just don't realize how important drinking is until you've chaperoned 30 screaming 5-year-olds in a museum, coached a double header, bathed the dog, given 2 baths, run a load of dirty uniforms through the washer, and cooked dinner.  You sit down after 13 "just one more stories" to find a moment of peace in your busy day and you can't figure out why you have a headache, why your fingers are tingly, and why you feel anxious and exhausted all at the same time.  Well, it's probably not a stroke...you're just dehydrated, because you didn't take time throughout the day to drink some water.

You've heard at least once in your life the 8x8 rule: Eight ounces of water eight times a day.  This is an average, and a poor one at that, but its manageable and better than nothing.  In reality, the amount of water you need depends on several things: age, gender, pregnancy, breast feeding, mental health, and physical health. Toddlers, in general, only need 40 ounces of water a day (5 cups), while a breastfeeding mother in her 30s needs 120 ounces per day (15 cups.) Most everyone knows that if you are suffering from diarrhea or vomiting, you need to drink continually in small amounts to prevent severe dehydration, but did you know that lack of water can create complications with mental health?

Our bodies use water to perform a number of complex tasks throughout the day including metabolizing medications, purging impurities, and regulating hormones.  If you battle depression or anxiety, failing to drink enough water can inhibit not only your body's ability to properly produce the hormones you desperately need, but also diminish the positive effects of medications that help to maintain your stability.  You contribute to your own anxiety attacks by not drinking water regularly.  Soda, tea, coffee, milk, and juice are not substitutes for water, even though they contribute toward your daily total.  I know it sounds "crazy," but I promise it makes a difference.  It's not a cure, but it does help.  My son has a bad habit of not drinking enough water, and quite frequently complains of dry mouth, itchy eyes, and headaches.  When he does, my first response is, "Did you drink any water today?"  Almost always his answer is "No."  But then, as he's gotten older, he turns the tables on me.  If my blood pressure is up, if my blood sugar is down, if I have a hang-nail..."Did you drink water?!"  I'm awful, because most of the time, my answer was also no. This hit home with me very recently as I'm standing in the kitchen taking my anxiety meds with a pumpkin spice latte (don't judge me!)  He says, "Aren't you the guy who is always harping on us to take our medication with a full glass of water, and your standing there slapping back pills with a pumpkinfrappawhatever?"  It's never fun to eat crow, especially when its served by your kids.  He was right.  So, I've turned over a new leaf...one of many actually.  I'm dedicated to drinking more water, taking my pills with water, and nagging my family to do the same WHILE setting a good example. I created a chart so I can monitor the results and remind myself of how much I've had to drink.  I'll let you know what I find out! In the mean time... Stay hydrated and let your kids see it!

2. Say no to caffeine.

If that statement made you sad, you really need to take a step back and re-evaluate your health choices.  Now, before I tell you why you should stop using caffeine, let me tell you...I'm STILL working on this myself.  It's new for me too; you are not alone.  The sad thing is...it's not something that I didn't already know, I just didn't care enough to make a healthier choice.  I'm not going to lie.  I like caffeine!!! That being said, like with all drugs, my caffeine need was a debilitating addiction.

People, for whatever reason, refuse to realize or accept that coffee and soda aren't just something to drink.  They are vehicles for a psychoactive drug. Caffeine is the most widely used mood-altering drug and is consumed by 80% of the planet.  Most of those people will use it, in some form, on a daily basis. Many of them are unknowingly addicted to its use and will suffer withdrawal symptoms without it.  I've heard people (including myself) say, "I have a headache because I haven't had any caffeine today."  If someone said, "I have a headache because I haven't smoked any crack today," we'd be all over that with all kinds of labels and advice.  But when someone says it about coffee or soda, we dismiss it.  Why?!? Because caffeine doesn't hurt you?  Wrong.

Caffeine has a profound affect on the body.  It increases heart rate and contributes to high blood pressure, both of which can lead to heart, lung, and kidney disease. Caffeine is processed by the kidneys and excessive amounts (more than 1 cup of coffee a day) can have long term repercussions including kidney stones, urinary tract infections, and poor blood filtration.  Caffeine stimulates your natural "fight or flight" response increasing cortisol and adrenaline levels in the body. This manifests in a burst of energy, but it doesn't last.  In individuals who suffer from anxiety, you've just triggered the beginnings of a panic attack. We spend most of our day trying to avoid panic attacks, and even consuming medications to control them, but then we intentionally consume a substance that will make them worse.  Doesn't that seem counterproductive?  Excessive amounts of cortisol can contribute to weight gain as well.  And yet...most of us can't function without a morning cup of joe.

That's the tell-tale line though, isn't it? "I can't get going without my morning coffee" or whatever caffeine stimulant you use in the morning, be it soda, energy drinks, or pick-me-up pills.  When you cannot properly function without consuming a particular substance, you are ADDICTED to that substance. It IS a DRUG.  You can make yourself feel better by telling yourself its not as bad as cocaine or heroine, but just because it doesn't kill you quickly, doesn't mean it isn't killing you slowly. Let that sink in, and then ask these 2 questions:  Why am I choosing to slowly kill myself?  and Why do I want my kids to see that?

Would you smoke crack in front of your children?  No, not if you're a good parent. Why?  You don't do drugs in front of your kids, because you don't want them to do drugs, and yet they see you guzzling sodas and coffee and hear you say things like, "Oh, I need my Starbuck's fix so I can make it through the day."  How's that so different?  Something else I don't want them to see--Me having a panic attack.  I hate when they see it.  It's embarrassing to me, mostly because I don't want them to see me lose control, but more than that, it scares them. Dad isn't dad when he's a sobbing mess in the bathroom floor. Why would I drink a substance that causes that to happen?  This information is not new to me, but the realization of what I was ACTUALLY doing is. I was making myself sicker in front of my children and simultaneously teaching them that drugs are ok. My son drinks energy drinks like his life depended on it, and I'm to blame.  I taught him that it was ok to do that by setting a poor example. I'm ashamed and horrified, but I'm doing something about.

Another leaf has turned.  I've switched to decaff coffee, tea, and soda, and I'm working on cutting soda altogether. I don't even keep the "real stuff" for other people. (So if you come to visit and you are expecting caffeine, you're out of luck.) My son is almost 20, and his habits are already formed, so the best I can do now is encourage him to find a better way and set the example. If you are in the same boat I was in, let me encourage you to take a step back and look at the example you are setting. It just might save your life and theirs. For me, it's made a huge difference.  My blood pressure and pulse rate are consistently lower, and I've been able to come off of one of my blood pressure medications. I'm having less frequent panic attacks and I'm starting to lose weight.  And it all began with saying NO to caffeine.

***Let me also include tobacco products as well, as nicotine does the same thing as caffeine, but is more addictive and harder to quit.  I quit smoking after 25 years, and it's changed my life (but that's another blog unto itself.)

3. Eat a healthy breakfast loaded in B Vitamins!

I realize the further I get into this blog, the more I sound like an After School Special. I probably should have taken those more seriously in my youth, but hey...hindsight is 20/20 right??!?? I digress. Breakfast really is the MOST important meal of the day for many reasons.  The biggest reason is that it's the starting pistol for the daily race, and it needs to last all day long!  What you eat for breakfast starts the metabolic processes for the entire day, setting the pace for how you'll be processing energy.  In addition, you're body has spent the entire night repairing from the previous day and it needs a pick me up.  But why rich in B vitamins?

You're body uses the various forms of B vitamins, especially B12, to chemically manage stress.  Do you hear me?  Your body is designed to MANAGE its OWN stress.  The only thing you need to do is to give it the fuel it needs to complete the task.  Is it really that hard to do?  For some of us, it is!  The majority of people who suffer from anxiety disorders and depression also suffer from various Vitamin B deficiencies, most commonly B12 deficiency, which can result in increased stress, anxiety/panic attacks, muscle tension, headaches, depression, loss of appetite, and even hallucinations and delusions.  It cycles back onto itself, because the lack of B12 creates stress which uses more B12, depleting your reserves.  

Recently, I found out that my B12 levels were almost non-existent.  I was having waking nightmares, constant panic attacks, hearing voices, and seeing things I knew couldn't be.  It wasn't until my doctor ran a blood panel that we discovered how severe my deficiency was.  I already eat a diet with an increased amount of B12, but I didn't realize how low mine was.  Furthermore, I was "eating" coffee and cigarettes for breakfast for the last 2 decades, which wasn't helping.  Just look at that pile up - Missing breakfast, not enough B12, drinking/smoking stress inducing drugs, and suffering from anxiety and depression.  I honestly don't know how I didn't have a serious mental health break...though I guess delusions is pretty serious, huh? And what's worse...I was constantly telling my kids, "Eat a good breakfast!" "Eat your vegetables." "Fish is good for you." I love vegetables, and fish is amazing, so I was good there, but that breakfast thing...not so much. The doctor added a B12 supplement to my daily routine, and its made a huge different in my energy levels.

One morning, my son was on his way to take a college entry exam, and I said to him, "Did you eat some protein?  Did you drink some juice, and take your vitamins."  And he said to me, "I don't have time, I'll just grab an energy drink and a pop tart."  What the hell did I do to my kid?  I mean, he's not without his own mental health struggles, and I was making it worse by teaching him bad habits. I know he got that from me.  Not only was I damaging my own health by eating poorly, I was damaging his health by not setting a good example.  "I don't have time" is not an excuse for missing the most important meal of the day.  It takes 1 minute to make a bowl of oatmeal in the microwave.  If your life is so busy that you can't find ONE minute to eat something healthy, then you need to step back and take a look at your priorities.  Need help? Here's a great way to start the day...

The night before, when you are cooking dinner, boil three or four eggs. You're already in the kitchen cooking, so it won't take any more time.  When the kiddos start asking for a bedtime snack, slice up an apple or two.  Give them some and ziplock some for yourself.  The next morning, while you're waiting for the bathroom, throw a slice of bread in the toaster. When it pops out, peel a boiled egg, grab your apples, slap some peanut butter on your toast, and eat.  Five minutes is all it took to start your day off in a better way.  Eggs, peanuts, and whole grain breads contain natural sources of B Vitamins.  If you need more than the average person, a bowl of yogurt with granola and blueberries has a substantial amount of B12.  How long does it really take to make a bowl of yogurt?

When you battle mental health challenges, you need to do everything you can to navigate and mitigate the struggles you face because of those challenges.  That journey begins with eating healthy and monitoring your vitamin levels.  If you have never had your B12 levels checked, talk to your doctor and ask for a B12 blood test.  It might provide you with answers to questions you didn't know to ask.  In the meantime, just eat a good breakfast and make sure your kids do to.

4. Go outside!!!

We live in a world where technology will make you lazy if you let it.  I know, because it got its claws into me.  Seriously, you don't even have to stand to adjust the lights, the AC, and the radio...all at the same time.  I love video games.  Always have.  I spend too much time on them.  I think they absolutely have their place in coping with mental illness (and I intend to get into that for a future blog,) but I don't think its healthy if they take over your life. Exercise isn't just good for your heart, its good for your mind, and it won't happen while you're watching YouTube videos about cats. More than anything else...sunlight plays a very important role in mental health, and you can't get that from any other source than the sun!

Almost every person on the planet who has made it past 3rd grade can tell you that plants make their own food, but sunlight actually causes the production of more than just food in plants. Two of those important processes have to do with the creation of Vitamin D in the human body and the release of the "feel-good" hormone known as serotonin. Low levels of serotonin is one of the most common causes of long term depression and anxiety. In fact, many medications for those conditions are designed to increase the amount of serotonin in the system or prolong its presence. A serious condition called seasonal affective disorder (SAD) is caused by limited exposure to sunlight, which causes an increase in depression during winter months.  The treatment for this condition is phototherapy. Obviously, not everyone with mental health issues has SAD, but we can all benefit from the exposure to sunlight.  The increased production of Vitamin D will help with stress management and increased energy, while the influx of serotonin will help to fight depression and anxiousness.  Adequate exposure to sunshine will assist medications in doing their job more effectively, improving your over all health, and ensuring a happier and more productive day.

Most of people don't get enough sunlight.  We lead 9 to 5 lives.  Most of our day is spent indoors under artificial lights. When we get off work, we pick the kids up from the sitter and head home, straight to the kitchen table for homework.  We clean, cook, and assist until its time for bed.  Rinse and repeat.  It's unhealthy. The weekends roll around and we sleep in because we're tired from the work week.  We vegetate in front of the T.V. under the guise of "relaxing and de-stressing." We procrastinate.  We make excuses.  We don't leave the house.  This habit of avoiding sunlight eventually takes its toll.  Our brains can't figure out when to produce serotonin or melatonin, so we stay drowsy and rundown. We lose interest in the things that make us happy, and eventually find new excuses to avoid the great outdoors and exercise in general. We gain weight, which compounds our laziness and depression.  And again it cycles.  I've been guilty of this for years. I'm the king of excuses. I'm the emperor of "I'll do it later."  I wrote the handbook on how to avoid leaving the house. And it caught up with me. I've masterminded my own depressive episodes.  Depression contributes to anxiety, anxiety contributes to depression, and they both make me a prisoner in my own home.  The only way to fight back is to break the cycle. I'm doing that now...

Take a walk down a country lane.  Go for a drive through the mountains.  Fish. Plant a garden.  Listen to the birds.   Have a picnic lunch with your best friend.  Take your spouse on a sunset stroll.  Provoke joy, and dare to be happy!

5. Be proud of who you are!

I'm a 40 year old, retired, pagan drag queen with a big mouth and the heart to match.  I'm big where I should be little, and little where I should be big.  Gravity is no longer my friend unless I'm laying on my back. I'm a husband, a father, a son, a brother, an uncle, a cousin, and a pet parent.  I'm a chef, a chauffeur, a seamstress, a maid, an accountant, and a personal assistant to two men with bad memories and serious attention issues.  And I wouldn't have it any other way.

There are days when I don't want to be a dad.  There are days when I don't want to be a husband.  There are days when I can't leave my house because I'm paralyzed with fear.  Sometimes I'm so tired it's physically exhausting to wash my hair...and I don't have that much these days. I look at my house some days and want to burn it to the ground rather than clean it up.  It's on those days, when I feel less like me, that's when I need to let who I am shine the most. I need to let other's see that I'm not always strong.  They need to know that it's OK to have moments of weakness. I don't have to feel guilt or shame for having a mental illness. And I need to ask for help when I need it.

If there is one thing that I have repeatedly harped on with my children, it is asking for help. I could not tell you how many times I have said, "If you need help, ASK!"  Bad grades, complicated themes, words they don't know, climbing a tree, painting a picture, learning to drive, struggling with healthy choices... ASK ME FOR HELP!  I nag and nag and nag them about it, but what about me?  What do I do?  Nothing. I keep it inside. I'm ashamed of my weakness, and I don't want them to see it.  I hide it. I bury it.  It gets worse.  Then I fall apart and they don't see the tiny battles...they get to witness the nuclear fall out.  That's so much better, isn't it? 

I finally asked Jacob, "Why in the world do you let yourself fail instead of coming to me and asking me for help?"  And he said, "I want you to be proud that I did it myself. You never ask for help."  Well...there you go.  I set them up for failure by teaching them it was weak to ask for help.  What kind of parent does that? I was a walking, talking contradiction, and my kids were paying the price. Well, that had to stop, if for no other reason than hypocrisy doesn't look good in a dress. I started asking for help.  My dear friend Lisa, said to me, not too long ago, (and I'm paraphrasing a bit) "It's not weak to ask for help.  It takes a lot of strength to say 'I can't do this on my own.'"  She's right.  And I asked for help. For years I had allowed depression to compound my anxiety, because I refused to admit I needed help. 

Today, that is no longer the case. I'm in therapy for both, and I have meds for both.  I'm drinking plenty of water and eating healthier. I've said good-bye to addictive substances and shouted "HELLLOOOO!" to the sunlight. Most importantly, when I'm falling and losing myself, I reach out to my friends and family, and ask for help. I will be a better example to those around me, especially my kids. I am not broken, and I am more than my mental illness. 

Have a great day ya'll!

Just Breathe

I've been battling anxiety my entire life, so I have no idea what parenting without the challenges of mental illness is like, but I'm sure we all share similar burdens...those of us with the added task of navigating our conditions just have an amplified version.  I'm sure that all parents panic a bit when their child gets hurt. I'm sure that all parents worry when their children are sick.  I'm sure that all parents are nervous about the first day of kindergarten, first dates, first time taking the car out, and all the other first that we have no real control over.  I'm sure all parents, the good ones anyway, care enough to show concern for the well being of their children. However, for those of us living with anxiety, especially death anxiety, those situations can prove to be debilitating...in more ways than one.

Aside from the nervousness and irrational fears that go with anxiety, we have the added luxury of feeling guilty about our anxiety...causing us to worry that we are failures as parents. I've had thoughts many times that I wasn't good enough to be a parent. I've wondered many times if my kids wouldn't have been better off in someone else's care.  Even after stepping back and looking at their successes, I still felt that way.  That's because knowing something and feeling it are very different, and I believe that's a key component to navigating our very delicate mindset.  What you KNOW and what you FEEL are NOT the SAME--but--using proper coping mechanisms, medication, and therapy to your advantage can help you bring those 2 things into alignment.

Four years ago, my son, Jacob, went on his first long distance field trip with his class.  He was 15 then, and though very intelligent, he had his on battles with ADHD and opposition-defiant disorder to deal with, so any time he was away from my influence, I would worry he was going to have a meltdown.  This trip was no different, and in fact, it was worse, because he would be too far away for me to run to the rescue should something happen.  I lay awake all night the night before worrying about all the terrible things that could happen should that delicate chemical imbalance suddenly shift. I remember distinctly one scenario my mind invented -- He's swimming in the ocean and too far out.  A teacher calls to him and insists he return to shore, but his ODD overpowers his rationale and causes him to swim further out to sea.  In minutes, he's overtaken by waves and drowns.  I can see him drowning in my mind's eye. I can feel him gasping for breath, begging for help.  I can hear him calling my name...and I'm too far away.  I scream out into the night, panicking over something that hasn't happened.  I don't want him to go. I'm pacing the floor, trying to find peace.  Nothing helps. I spiral.  I'm sobbing in the floor, clutching handfuls of my own hair, telling myself its silly, unlikely, and insane. I know better...but the panic doesn't stop.  The only thing I can do to make it better is to keep him in the house...with me...forever.

I have spent my whole life a prisoner of my own mind to varying degrees, and there I was moments from making my son a prisoner too.  Did I want that? Did I really want him to suffer the way I have?  I found a moment of clarity in that realization, and I took a breath.  It's such a simple thing, but a deep breath can be ever so cleansing.  It's certainly not a cure, and it doesn't work for long, but it can provide a second's peace to a mind in turmoil, allowing you the precious chance to turn it around - to bring what you KNOW and what you FEEL together.  In that case, I knew Jacob's teachers cared as much for him as I did.  I knew they would keep him safe.  I picked up the itinerary and read it, over and over.  He wasn't going to be swimming in the ocean, just looking in tidal pools.  He was going to be under constant supervision by people he trusted...by people I trust.  I took another breath and the peace lasted a bit long. I thought about the conversations I had had with his teachers.  I looked at their faces in my memory and saw joy, integrity, faith, compassion, strength...I felt better.  Another breath. The anxiety was fading...now I was thinking clearer: "I'm going to need some help over this hump."  I go the medicine cabinet and find my rescue medicine.  I take one, brew a cup of hot tea, and put on some music.  In 30 minutes, I was ok. He was ok.

The rest of that day, I used what I felt in those moments of clarity to keep the anxiety at a minimum.  I reminded myself that I was giving him something that I couldn't always give myself - Freedom. I called some friends, read a book, watched a movie, cuddled with my furbabies, and worked in my garden.  When he came home, I was excited to see him, and he told me all about his adventures by the sea.  He was inspired to pursue a career in science. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew he wanted to be a scientist. This past June, he graduated Valedictorian, a Golden State Honors graduate, and accepted into the pre-med program. He wants to be a bio-mechanical engineer and develop cybernetic prosthetic limbs. He's going to change the world for the better. If I had kept him home that day, that moment of inspiration he received on that trip would have been missed.  My anxiety...my irrational fear, very nearly robbed the world of his brilliance.  But it didn't. I think about that and remember. I fought back.  I use that memory to fight now.  Every win building on a previous win for a future win; all working to make what I know and what I feel the same.

When you find yourself lost in fear and anxiety, stop everything and breathe.  As simple as that sounds, as silly as you might think it is...BREATHE.  Take a long, deep, breath and release some frustration.  Feel tensions relax.  Allow your mind to slow.  Even if the calm only lasts for a second, it WILL give you a chance to turn your day around.  Take that moment and FILL IT UP with as many good things as possible. Smile, dream, laugh...even if its forced.  Tell joke, smell a flower, feel the sun on your face...whatever it takes, whatever it is that gives you peace... DO IT! And then breathe again...and do it some more.  You keep breathing and keep dreaming and keep smiling and you KEEP finding reasons to live, love, and laugh, because you're a parent...and that's what WE do.  And if you can't think of your own...you can borrow mine, and we'll get through it together.

Together, we can! Have a great weekend.

It's a Brand New Day

If you are a regular reader of "Jase-isms," then you know I can't commit to anything "regular," but that's kind of the way life is with me.  In fact, its part of living with mental illness.  You can go days, weeks, maybe a month if your lucky, without having any major issues, then one day your world collapses because someone forgot to put the milk back in the fridge. It really can be something that simple.  So, here's the only promise I can make... What you read here will be irregular, personal, thoughtful, and passionate.

But Jase...this is like your 4th blog, why do you keep changing? I wish I had a good answer for that, but the only answer I have is that I'm having trouble finding my voice as an "adult."  Let me caveat that - I don't think anyone is really an adult until somewhere between obtaining a mortgage and procreating, and sometimes that is even questionable.  When I was in college, I wrote for the school newspaper, as well as having several technical and research papers published. I've had articles published over the years, even some in the last 12 months....but - I feel like for the last decade everything I write has been forced.  Like its not really me...in fact, there's a few things I wrote that literally sounded like another person. That has to stop.  I need to write with my voice, no matter what that is.  It's time to stop allowing others to decide what topics I can write about and how I should write them. I might be angry about the acne on the butt of a random gay adult entertainer or I might be pensive and philosophical about the nuances of cheese.  No matter what it is...I should be able to express myself uninhibited by the masses...be they friend or foe or somewhere in between.

Anyway...that's where this is coming from.  That is why I'm giving my blog a new face.  I want to write about my life, my struggles, my pain, my joy, my right nipple...whatever...without worry. Okay...I'm kidding about the nipple thing...sort of.  The reality is I intend to right about my life as a parent living with mental illness.  I've written tons of things about parenting special needs kids, being a teacher of special needs children, etc.  Those days are kind of over for me as my kids are all grown now. (My baby just started college.) Now, I want to go back and reflect on the struggles I faced (for better or worse) and put them into words.  Maybe somewhere along the way, I've gleaned some wisdom that I can impart to others to make their journey a bit smoother.

With that said, I need your help.  If my tidbits are going to make a difference, I need your help in spreading the good news.  I'm not asking for shameless plugs and senseless advertising, but...if you could share me, tweet me, +1 me...whatever format you use (all of the above?!?!?)  it would be amazing.  Encourage people to comment on the blog directly, sign the guest book, and to follow me on Google+.  In fact, I'll be doing the same for you!  Perhaps if we keep sharing with each other, we'll finally create a world where understanding and compassion are the tools of every trade and tongue.  Until then...journey well!

3 Questions You Shouldn't Ask Your ADHDer

Any parent will tell you that when you ask a child a question, you'd better be prepared for the answer, because there is no telling what they'll say.  Typically speaking, if you ask a generic question, you'll get a normal answer though...at least where neurotypical children are concerned.  With special needs children, even the most mundane questions can have complicated answers.  There are some questions that are guaranteed to trigger such responses, and I thought I'd offer a brief...warning.

1.  Where would you like to eat?

Now, if you're a parent, you've been out with your children and realized that they are probably hungry.  Deciding to offer them a treat of eating out, you ask, "Where would you like to eat?"  If you have neurotypical children, you'll get anything from McDonald's to Starbucks depending on their age.  If your child has ADHD, you'd better be prepare yourself.  You might get something normal, or you might get "on the moon."  Yes, I said, "ON THE MOON!" It answers the question, even if you don't have a clue how it would be possible.  This might prompt you to ask more questions.  Do yourself a favor and just....don't.  Once they've given their wild answer, you have a choice:  either reconstruct the question with a caveat that will inevitably prompt more questions from them OR figure out how the hell you're going to have lunch on the moon.  I made this mistake once...and we had lunch on the moon.  We created a "lunar landing" area as part of our homeschool science class and had a nice lunch of cheese sandwiches, apple slices, and pizza pies.  (I let the kids pick the menu.  Can you figure out why they chose those foods?  Leave your answers in the comments section below.)

If you'd like to avoid having lunch on the moon and other similar circumstances, its best to ask questions like these with constraints.  In stead of leaving them wide open, say "Would you like to eat at McDonald's or Burger King?"  You could ask, "What's your favorite thing to eat?" and then you select a restaurant that serves their favorite food.  Occasionally though, I'd recommend letting one of those open-enders fly and running with it.  It could lead to some hilarious and fantastic memories that you and your little ones will cherish for years to come.


2.  Have you finished....?

It doesn't matter how you complete that sentence.  If you are asking someone with ADHD if they have finished something, you already know the answer.  It's no.  Even though you are secretly hoping the answer is yes, you are only asking because you know they haven't.  You're using the question as a prompt to keep them on track.  Unfortunately, you're also making yourself insane.  Repeating the same pattern over and over again, expecting a different result each time, is the definition of insanity. Instead of asking a question, just check.  You can say, "Hey, bring me your homework so I can check it."  or "I'm going to go check your room to see if its clean."  The idea that you are about to find they haven't completed the task yet can be quite motivational.  In most cases, they'll return to the task with a renewed vigor.  It also helps to set small, definable goals when assigning tasks to children with ADHD.  Instead of "Clean your room" it would be more prudent to say "Please pick up all the clothes and put them in the hamper.  I'll be in in a few minutes to see what else needs to be done."  A small more defined task with a reasonable time limit can be helpful in keeping your ADHDer on task.  You can assign a new task once the previous task is completed to satisfaction.

3. Why did you...?

This is a lesson you'll learn very quickly.  That question is BAD BAD BAD.  You don't have enough time or brain cells to endure this level of wacky.  I'm not trying to suggest that people with ADHD are insane or incapable of rational thought, but they are impulsive.  Their minds tend to leap frog through topics.  You ask why and by the time they've mentally processed the answer, they've forgotten the question.  You might think that's a stretch, but I've seen it happen. If you need an explanation from your ADHDer, do yourself a favor and guide the conversation.  Don't just ask why.  "Did you get distracted while you were doing your homework?"  No.  "Did you lose your pencil?"  No.  "Did you forget your book?"  No.  "Were you watching TV instead of working?" No.  "Then you should have it done.  Let me see it." I'm still working on it.  "Has something prevented you from completing your homework or are you having trouble with the assignment?"  No, I'm just having trouble focusing.  BAM!  By asking targeted questions and guiding the conversation toward an actually answer, you've avoided a 30 minute explanation about the math teacher's dress, Sally Jane's new pet iguana, and the dog running in circles chasing invisible squirrels. The reality is: He's having difficulty focusing.  Recognize that the answer to "Why did you...?" always comes back to focus.  Everything else is just filler.  It saves time and sanity just to accept it.  You're job is not to navigate the rocky waters of explanation, but rather to supply the focus.  You can't do anything about his racing mind, but you can minimize the stimuli affecting the race.  A clean workspace, some music he can relate to, and a reduction in foot traffic can be just as beneficial as all the 504 Plans and IEPs and medicines in the world.

Adventures in Babysitting

I know I said I wouldn't be writing a blog every day, but for now, I'm in the mood.  I've been thinking quite a bit about my childhood lately, for reasons I'll keep to myself for now.  It's been a considerable trip down memory lane.  As I look back, I find that I struggle for "happier" memories.  The sour far too often outweighs the sweet.  I don't think its because I'm a negative person.  I think its just human nature to linger on the "not-so-good" things.  They tend to stick with us more.  I'd like to tell you that I'm turning over a new leaf and focusing on only positive things, but that's not true.  I've tried it.  It doesn't work.  Stepford-Jase is creepy.  What I will try to do is share an equal amount of the good, the bad, and the ugly.  A nice balance tends to make for better storytelling anyway.  Here's one of those that contains a bit of all 3...

I had the good fortune of having a "stay at home" mom for my early childhood years. (And before someone gets the idea that I have something against working moms, please let me assure you that I do not.)  We weren't rich...hell, we weren't even middle class.  We had to gather eggs and milk the cow every day just to eat breakfast.  In the winter, meals were often left overs that had accumulated over the previous year, frozen in baggies and old buckets.  In the morning, mother would throw some homemade canned tomato juice in a cast iron pot, dump in an ice block of frozen whatever-was-in-it, and set it on the old wood stove.  When it boiled, it was done.  Sometimes it took all day.  I was a poor farm kid from the sticks.  Cereal was a luxury.  I spent May to September 90% barefoot and shirtless, because we couldn't afford new shoes and clothes.  They had to last.  Truth be told, we didn't always get "new" anything.  A good bit of the time, we got hand-me-downs from cousins and neighbors.  It was a circumstance of country life...but I digress. My dad made 3.15 an hour in those days, and the farm didn't bring in a great deal of money.  Mother decided she would start babysitting to bring in some extra cash.  To show you how much of a difference there is between then and now...she got 20.00 a week to take on 2 other kids 8 to 10 hours a day.  Can you imagine?

The first couple of children she kept were the children of family friends.  Their dad drove the local milk truck and their mom was a secretary for a small business.  They were nice people.  Trey and Ashley became like family for my sister, Tiffany, and I.  We were all separated by 1 year...meaning I was 6, Trey was 5, Tiff was 3, and Ashley was 2.  Ash was potty training and still in diapers. She was...portly?  She always reminded me of the Gerber baby but with more chubby.  Trey was so thin, you couldn't have hit him with a handful of corn.  I assumed he was thin because Ash was eating his share as well.  Tiff and Ash spent most of their time playing dolls and annoying Trey and I.  For some reason they couldn't understand why it was inappropriate for girls to enter our Fort, which was basically 2 hay bales, a dirt mound, and a bed sheet I pilfered from the clothesline.  They could usually be deterred from bothering us with the waterhose, though in most cases that resulted in the wooden spoon making an appearance.  We had 1 television..cabinet style.  There were 2 dials on it and rabbit ears for the first 6 years of my life.  Didn't matter though...there were only 3 channels anyway.  If you were lucky, and the birds stayed away, and the weather was good...you might get 2 of the 3 to come in plainly.  The other was a lost cause unless you held your mouth just right.

One evening, after Trey and Ash had gone home, my dad came in and began discussing this "new" technology with my mother.  I was intrigued.  A device that would allow us to watch movies sounded AMAZING!  I listened for a long time, and I remember thinking how awesome it would be to have something like that.  The downside was that it was going to cost my dad two weeks pay to get one.  That wasn't something we could afford.  I was disappointed.  A few weeks went by and I had all but forgotten about the new movie thing.  Pretending was better anyway, and we had started getting a new channel (a 4th one!!)...KBSI 23, a FOX station.  That meant more cartoon choices, when we were allowed to watch that is (which wasn't a great deal. 30 minutes a day, and Saturday mornings.) Life was good.

Right at the end of summer, a few weeks before it was time to pick corn, my paternal grandmother, Mamaw, called to tell my dad that she had found a VCR machine for sale in the newspaper. (That's right bitches, we had a phone. It was an avocado green rotary phone, but we had one.)  Mother had saved a good bit of her sitting money, and she and Dad decided to move into the "modern" era.  The VCR was listed in the items for a yard sale in an area of my hometown called "Pleasant Valley."  Pleasant Valley was a subdivision built to provide housing options for the workers of the Goodyear factory that had opened in town...the largest in the U.S.  You had to be pretty well off to afford a house in that subdivision.  It was home to doctors, lawyers,...well, everyone except poor farm kids.  It was actually kind of exciting to think we were going to go there and buy something.  (Sadly, once I got to know some of those families later in life, I realized what an idiot I was.  Most of them were assholes.)  Since my dad had to work, it mean that Mother was going to have to go...with all 4 kids! Knowing how difficult it would be for Mother to handle that, Dad took it upon himself to invite Mamaw.  Now, there's some history there.  Mother and Mamaw got along about like two Tomcats in a burlap sack (and I'll save that for another time.)

The next day. Mother, Mamaw, and we 4 kids, piled into our Mercury station wagon and headed to town.  It was about a 15 minute trip, which was about the width of our county.  We pulled into the driveway of the yard sale, and Mother said to Mamaw, "Keep an eye on them.  I'm going to be just a minute."  Mother got out and hell broke loose.  Mamaw's idea of "keeping an eye on us" was browsing the yard sale.  She left 4 young children in the car....windows down mind you.  In those days, in our small town, you could do that without much risk of criminal activity.  The real risk was leaving 4 children to their devices.  You should also keep in mind that I have Asperger's syndrome and death anxiety, which were both undiagnosed at the time.  Trey, we later found out, had severe ADHD.  This is a volatile combination in and of itself.  Throw in 2 siblings we couldn't stand and 33 seconds of boredom, and it was a mess.  We decided to play "campout."  If you don't know anything about Mercury station wagons, here's a brief description. Bench seats in the front, bench seats in the middle, and collapsible "kiddy" seats in the cargo hold.  I sat in the front with adults, because I was oldest.  The others were in the center.  The kiddy seats were folded down to allow full use of the cargo area.  Trey climbed over the seat to join me in the front.  We moved the bench seat all the way back and used windbreakers to build a tent.  We then decided we needed a fire.  Gathering brush from the floorboard and using Mamaw's cigarette lighter, we built a small fire in the ashtray...which quickly filled the car with smoke, even with the windows down.  This was enough to get Mamaw's attention.  She put out the fire, and subsequently prevented my mother from starting one on her head.

This next part will need a bit more explanation.  You see, Dad believes that if you get off the interstate, you have to live there.  So, he doesn't stop on long car rides unless he needs gas or has to pee.  That doesn't work well with a 6 and 3 year old. As a result of his insanity, Mother put a potty chair in the cargo area so we could use it without having to pull over.  Now, all of us knew it was there.  Tiffany decided that she needed to pee.  She climbed over the eats, into the cargo area, and proceeded to do her business.  Once finished, she stood up and attempted to pull up her panties.  Unfortunately, they had gotten hung on the kiddy seat latch.  She kept bending over and jerking them, but it wasn't happening. This also caused her to moon and flash everyone at the yard sale, which was half of Pleasant Valley. A crowd of people, including other children, gathered outside of the window.  Tiff began crying and screaming, because she's a drama queen.  My brain started to melt and I dove under the dashboard.  Luckily, my grandmother had the good sense to help her before it got worse.  Meanwhile, Trey had engaged in a spitting contest with another boy from the crowd. (Oddly enough, we later, as teenagers, became best friends...with benefits!)  The volley of saliva carried on for a while.  Tiffany decided that she too would join in.  With both Trey and Tiff spitting, things were getting gross fast.  Mamaw apparently thought to look in our general direction and yelled for them to stop.  The boy turned to walk away.  Tiff thrust her head through the window to get in one final spit as Trey cranked it shut, trapping her sideways head between the window glass and the door frame.  Of course, the drama queen began to wail.

Mamaw wasn't able to stop the cries from activating Mother's seek and destroy protocol, as she began shoving her way past the shoppers.  When she arrived at the car, she jerked the door open, not realizing Tiff's head was solidly trapped...and there she dangled by her neck.  Trey smacked the window roller (as they were hand cranked not electric), releasing her face, and causing her to drop to the ground with a resounding thud.  It sounded something like a brick smashing through a pumpkin.  Mother grabbed her up off the ground, comforted her, and checked for injuries.  Seeing there were none, she then inspected the car, that was devoid of adult supervision.  Seeing the burnt grass in the ashtray and the piss-filled potty in the cargo area caused her to lose her mind.  That was the first time I ever heard my mother say, "Fuck."  Now, this entire time, Ashley had been sitting in her carseat...quietly...shitting.  Not just a normal amount, but like enough for 6 kids.  I distinctly remember Mother picking her up and watching the poop spill out of the carseat.  It was disgusting.

4 hours, 4 spankings, 2 adults fighting, a moon-fest, a spitting contest, a campfire gone wrong, and a shit-filled carseat later...we had a used VCR.  It cost mother a month's worth of babysitting and all that drama, but we had one.  When dad arrived home that night, he saw the VCR and said, "See. You said it was going to be too hard with the kids.  I told you Momma would help."  Mother, smiling politely, said..."Your mother is as useless as tits on a boar. Never again..."  And she made good on her word.  That was the last time Mother and Mamaw were ever in the same car. She quit sitting.  A month later I started to school and Mother went to work...at a Video Rental place, no less.

Oh...and this hat is very similar to the one June Thompson wore when I was a child.  She owned the VCR that we bought.  Two years later, Mother went to work for her husband as a collections agent.

Wouldn't it be cool if...

Author's Note:  This is a bit of recycling on my part.  I wrote this a few years ago, but never really published it.  It still holds true today, so I thought I'd share it.  I should also add that committing to blogging regularly is not something that I can do.  I will try to blog occasionally, but you might end up with 4 in a week and not see another one for 3 months.  Why?  Well, after reading this first post, you'll understand...Happy Parenting!

"Hey dad!  Wouldn't it be cool if..." You can fill in the blank with whatever you like, but in this house those words usually come right before bizarre conversations and insane ideas. They sometimes trend toward something getting blown up or taken apart, up to and including the possibility, if not inevitability, of the loss of life or limb. Most of the time, they just torment my brain, resulting in eye rolls, migraines, and sometimes mini-strokes.  This day was no exception...

After an evening with my husband David's parents, we stopped on the way home to buy groceries. A trip to buy groceries with Jacob, our son, is always a treat, but when David is also with us, it's extra special.  I'm a shopper.  I compare prices, and unless I'm in a hurry, I take my time.  I keep a mental grocery list unless I have some off the wall item to buy.  I buy what I have room for and try to get the best deal.  David is not a shopper.  He's a buyer.  He enters the store with purpose, gets exactly what he wants, buys the biggest he can find, and the first thing he sees that meets his need.  Jacob likes to do things fast, funny, and frivolous and is unimpressed with my shopping habits, but completely supportive of David's "get-er-done" attitude...all with a built in motor.

Jacob, of course, enters through exit door, because...why not?  Two seconds in and I hear: "Igottapee.  *rrrrrr* *squeal*" as Jacob's built in motor peels out for the toilet.  David follows with, "I need mouthwash," and is gone before I can give him instructions on what to buy and what I have coupons for.  By the time I've made it past the bargain bins, both have returned.  Jacob informs me that the bathroom had water on the floor, sharing this tidbit:  "Wouldn't it be cool if someone ran in there and slipped and slid into the wall and fell in the toilet and got covered in poop, but like their head got busted open.  It would be hilarious!"  Shaking my head, I say, "No son...that would not be cool.  It would be a lot of things, but cool isn't one of them."  David puts a bottle of super-strength, extra-minty Colgate mouthwash in the buggy. It's practically glowing blue.   I ask about the price, and he says, "I dunno.  It got it because it was blue and shaped like a mana potion."  That's how we buy things in our home folks - Is it blue and does it resemble fantasy items?  Yes?  Buy it.

We managed to make it to the deli before David decided that I was taking too long. He heads off to buy what he thinks I want to speed things along.  Jacob follows him with motor roaring.  I grab a total of 2 items and round the corner to look at fish and poultry. As I look up from the "BOGO" on ground turkey, David appears at the cart with Pop-tarts, two 5 lb bags of cereal, and the biggest bag tortillas he could find on the shelf.  Jacob's eyes are almost glowing when he says, "Isn't it awesome.  It was the biggest bag of cereal we could find." (I'm amending my previous purchasing credentials to include: Is it huge, or does it come in multiples of 5?)  I'm staring with disdain at both of them.  The Pop-tarts, which can at a stretch be healthy if you buy the right ones, were Oreo cookie Pop-tarts. Both cereal bags have taken up half the shopping cart.  Each is made from pure processed sugar and chocolate, and of course, no one knows how much they cost.  Jacob hands me a box of plain, off brand bran flakes, and says, "We got this for you."  David says, "Is it the kind you like?"  My eyes are rolling back into my head at this point, and the migraine is sitting on go.

They grab 2 packs of soy chorizo and the biggest bag of cheese in the dairy, informing me they done with shopping and are ready to leave. I've not managed to get even half my list yet.  The rest of the trip is spent with me shopping and them being bored, which contained several random dance moves, strange noises, and David insisting that I'm doing it wrong because I only "bought 1," it wasn't "the biggest one," or I should have bought the blue one.  After about 20 minutes, they are completely done with me and go to electronics to look for video games. The gods have granted me a reprieve.  In 30 minutes or so, we meet back up front.  There are 800 people checking out and 4 registers open because...Wal-Mart. Standing in the line, I here Jacob say, "Wouldn't it be cool if suddenly the eggs just like hatched with exploding chickens."  Admittedly, the idea of being able to incubate exploding chickens is intriguing, but preferably NOT in line. The cashier felt it necessary to share with me a look that suggested she thought Jacob ate rat poison as a child.  She must have noticed the ever-enlarging veins in my temples, as she casually placed a single pack of migraine medicine on the conveyor, ever so casually glancing at me to make sure I approved.  I'm fairly certain my neck forced my head to nod faster than I could consider it.

By the time we get back to that car, Jacob's motor has kicked into full gear. He is now making sounds similar to a NASCAR racecar on the verge of crashing.  I desperately try to load the groceries as fast as possible and get home before I rip out his carburetor. We manage the drive home with minimal backseat noises, put groceries away, and decide to have a little family time.  We chose to play "Runewars".  It's a fantasy board game with battles and magic and whatnot.  The object of the game is, normally, to defeat all the other armies and collect 6 dragon runes.  It has been altered in our house.  You now win as long as I don't. It doesn't matter how many people are playing.  As long as I lose, everyone else is a winner. That's OK with me, at least I inspire competition. Admittedly it does get a bit annoying, but I should be thankful that my family considers me the pinnacle of gaming excellence. Halfway through the game, Jacob says, "Wouldn't it be cool if this game were real and I was like the undead and I just went around eating everyone and Jase's elves were all like 'Woah' and I just killed them all and then I turned Jase into a zombie and he was all powerful and stuff." *boggle* David follows with, "I don't want Jase to be a zombie.  He's already too powerful as it is, I don't want him having undead qualities too."  Jacob says, "But it would be so awesome.  He'd be like *bam* *smack* *squeal squeal* AHHHHHHHH. And everyone would be dead."  David follows, "And that's exactly why I don't won't him to be a zombie."

Now, you'd assume this was a silly conversation, light-hearted and completely fantasy....if you lived in a normal house.  Not in my house...this is a real concern for both husband and son.  David is dead serious that he doesn't want me becoming a zombie, and Jacob is almost giddy with the idea of me being some sort of fall-out boy super mutant.  I managed to quell the conversation by pointing out that I don't want to be a zombie. I'd rather be a vampire. Jacob is now 300% invested in my becoming an actual vampire with David shouting objections all over the place.  I get up and go to the bathroom. When I come back to the game, I realize that it has been my turn for 10 minutes.  They've moved on to some other conversation and are irritated that I haven't taken my turn yet.  We finish up the game. I won with extreme prejudice.  Elves decimated the battle field! David says, "See.  This is why we always gang up on you."

We round out the evening and head to bed.  As I'm laying down, and David is turning off lights, I hear this..."Hey David, wouldn't it be cool if like we all go to bed and like someone tries to break in and Jase just gets up and wipes everyone out."  David shouts with potent seriousness, "NOOOOOOOOO!  We're part of everyone! We only want him to kill the bad guys."  Jacob responds, "Yeah, but it would AWESOME!."  I yell, "Go to bed Jacob!  David, don't forget the lights downstairs."  There's a momentary hush, then I hear this silly giggle from David, "Yeah, it would be awesome. Hehehehehehehe."


For those of you with no children, you may one day find yourself in a position to defend why it would not be cool if you suddenly turned into a zombie or your groceries began exploding for no reason. Prepare yourself!  For those of you with children, you may want to share with everyone else the reasons you've already given! :)  Happy Parenting! OH!!...Here's today's big floppy hat.