I am NOT buying their products!

Is it just me? This commercial just creeps me out! The less-than-presidential Abraham Lincoln isn't too bad. But a talking beaver? A talking beaver that plays chess! That's disturbing. And what about the guy that never talks? The guy in the deep sea diver suit. What's up with that guy? Is he even aware these other characters exist? He seems unaware. Is that what taking this sleep aid does to him - turn him into a zombie? And we don't even really know if he is a "guy", do we? Maybe "he" is a "she"? Or, even more creepy, an "it"! An alien? A talking orangutan from Planet of the Apes?

This is such an odd combination of characters that it just leaves me with the willies!

Of course, my wife loves these commercials. She thinks they are just soooooo funny. Have I ever mentioned that my adorable wife can be entirely weird at times?

Anyway, if I couldn't sleep, would I take this product? Or would the commercials with their promise of weird dreams just seem so creepy that I would look elsewhere for sleep?

Certainly not here! Cause if the talking beaver and the alien deep sea diver aren't creepy enough, we've got the luna moth. In these commercials, a luna moth quietly flutters in through the window, hovers above the face of the person in bed, and instantly they fall asleep. What the hell is that?!? What did the moth do???

First of all, let's be clear. If a moth or any other flying animal suddenly appeared hovering over my face in the dark, it would NOT help me relax! That surge of adrenaline would keep me awake for days!!!

But not these folks. Sleep comes instantly. Why? Does the hovering moth suck the oxygen away from the person? Does it spray them with some sort of venom or pheromone that induces sleep? Whatever it does to those people, it is a powerful assault that is just too strong to resist.

Again...creepy. Not for me!

Why do these companies think these are images to encourage us to take their sleep aids? Potentially creepy dream scenarios don't make me want to go to sleep! And a moth that somehow puts me under certainly doesn't soothe me. Isn't there a sleep aid that inspires a desire to sleep with the promise of pleasant dreams and soft lullabies? That would be the one for me!

Look Ma, I'm back!

After a long break from the blog, I am back at the keyboard. I know, I know...the excitement is almost more than you can bear. So I'll try to start with a low-key post so you can ease back into the routine of reading stuff coming out of my corner.

First of all, for those of you who worried that I jumped in my new little red car and rode off into the horizon, no such luck. "Little Red" and I have been busy but not going anywhere quite so exciting.

So what has been going on? What has happened since I last wrote?

Son17 had to have an MRI. This came up rather quickly due to elevated prolactin levels in a blood test. This can be a side effect of his medications, but it can lead to some more serious problems. So the MRI was to make certain that no damage was being done to various brain regions. The results were all fine. Nothing to worry about. But the procedure took most of a day. Son17 definitely does not have the ability to lay still for an hour inside that machine. So they had to give him a general anesthetic. So we had to be there early, have little "pre-procedure" meetings with anesthesiologists, nurses, doctors, etc. Have the actual MRI. Then hang around long enough for him to recover and wobble out to the car.

Son19 turned into Son20. Fascinating how my kids' names change every year, huh?

The school year ended for me. Pardon me while I do the dance of joy one more time.......

Okay, I'm back. And while I work year-round, the summer schedule is much less hectic. Since a large part of what I do is professional development with our staff, the end of the year saw all of my different workshop series coming to a close. In the last three weeks of school I led eight different workshops. I was exhausted!

School also ended for the kids. If you could peek into the other room, you could see them doing the dance of joy, as well. Well, truthfully, they aren't dancing. But I do fear they have become permanently attached to the Game Cube.

Daughter13 graduated middle school, so the end of the year took on a special significance for her. A small graduation ceremony in the morning followed by her first official dance that night. After seeing her head off to the bus every day in jeans and a sweatshirt, she surely looked all grown up in her new dress. And yes, a boy did ask her to the dance. He did not pick her up here...since he is only 13 and can't drive. But he did wait for her out front and escort her through a very nice evening. And Daughter13's report on the evening...the DJ was good, the snacks were good, Justin did get her punch, Justin did dress up even though some boys just wore shorts and a t-shirt, and they didn't kiss, they only hugged.

Last but not least, the opening of the camper. We own a camper that stays parked in a campground year round about 45 minutes from our house. As soon as school ends every year, we open it up, clean it up, and get ready for a summer of camping. My wife and the younger kids will live there much of the summer and I'll alternate sleeping at home and commuting to work from the camper during the weeks and will spend all weekends there. Some people have a summer home. We have a summer bed on wheels. But we love it. And today was the day Son20 and I went down to set up the deck, put up the screen porch, hook up all the utilities, air out the camper, and get it ready for some inside cleaning and fun.

And that, my good blogger friends, is what I've been doing while I was missing from the keyboard. But I've surely missed you! Jocelyn and Winston and Barb and Dorky Dad and May and Rebecca and Wizened and Wendz and Liv and Chelle and thethinker and Sheila and Redneck Mommy and .... well, instead of listing more, I'm going to read! I'm sure I've got a lot of catching up to do!!

Two weeks and counting...

Two weeks since I wrote my last post. I don't think I've ever skipped that long. And why have I been absent from the keyboard. Because it is the end of the school year and I'm going insane!!!

Tomorrow will be the last day of school where I work. And that last couple of weeks have been hellish. Nothing bad. Just more busy than I've ever been in my life. Going in early. Working late. Bringing work home.

My contract requires me to work a year-round schedule, so I don't get summers off. But I will get a few days off prior to summer school. And every moment off will be heavenly.

And Monday will be the final day of school for the kids. And over the past couple of weeks, they have had 17,000 projects and papers and posters to complete. It was unreal. It makes their study for finals seems almost insignificant in terms of how much time they've invested. The projects just demand so much time and effort and work. And they require parental participation. We don't do their work for them. But it still involves support, encouragement, trips to the store for poster board, cotton balls, craft sand, glue sticks, more ink for the printer for all the photos they've printed for posters.

When Monday evening rolls around, there's a cold beer in the fridge with my name on it!

And then I'll get back to writing and visiting your places. Cause I miss ya!

Little Red Corvette

I've been driving a 13-year-old Mazda with 140,000 miles. It's been a good car. Well, up until about 125,000 miles. That last 15,000 was a different story. During that time it burned oil. Drank oil. Consumed oil to the tune of a quart a week. And all that oil had to go somewhere. Some dripped out underneath. But a lot burned off. Every time I drove the car it looked like a rolling smoke screen. Mothers would move their children to the other side of the street when they saw me coming. Other drivers pointed and laughed. And I finally had to admit it was time for a new car.

Well, not a new car. But new to me. So we started the process of used car shopping. And we had our shtick down pretty good. I would tell the dealer what we wanted. My wife told him what we didn't want. I would ask questions if the potential car looked good. My wife would get us out the door if it was clear the salesman was wasting our time.

And some really did! The Toyota first unnamed dealer was clearly not interested in selling a used car. The first salesman asked us to wait while he got someone to help us. We waited. And waited. And waited some more. Finally some guy came out and led us out to the lot. And he gave us the Lightning Round Tour of the lot, pointing quickly at cars, quoting a price, and moving on. He always walked about 10 feet in front of us. He never paused for us to look at any car. And we couldn't get out of there fast enough.

The Hyundai next dealer asked what we wanted and told us he had exactly the car for us. He pulled it around...and it did seem perfect. Used but not too much mileage. Nice condition. We hopped in and drove for a bit and it handled well. Great...let's talk cash. Now keep in mind, when we walked in, the first words out of my mouth were "I want a decent used car and I want to get out the door for under $12,000". But the non-negotiable price he whipped out was $14,999. Huh? Did he not hear us? Or did he just ignore us? Did he think we would kick in an extra $3000 just cause he was a nice guy? Not a chance. Bad salesman. No deal. We walked.

But there were a couple of guys who did try to meet our needs. The Mazda dealer showed us cars that met our needs...just a big high in mileage. The Kia dealer had a very nice car. We went home to think about it. Decided to go for it. Called back a couple of days later. Someone else had already put a deposit put on it.

And then we went to another Hyundai dealer. We told him what we wanted. He said he had three cars that met our requirements. We looked. We drove. And in fact, two of the three were perfect. The third was pretty good too...but a little higher in mileage. So the guy who actually listened and showed us what we wanted...made a sale!

Oh...not a little red corvette though. A little red Accent. We just call it "Little Red". Perfect for getting to work and back every day. Welcome to a smoke free ride!

Our Own Bumper Sticker (part three)

Many of you have patiently read the last couple of posts about our experiences as the parent of a child with special needs. And you guys have responded with some of the most affirming and supportive comments. I appreciate that very much.

In this last post, I want to give a "shout out" to Son17. Sure, we've struggled to figure out how to be good parents to a kid who came without an instruction manual. But Son17 is the one who really struggles.

He has many obstacles to overcome. One of the biggest, in my opinion, is that Asperger's Syndrome can impact the executive functions of the brain. I'm no neurology expert, but I know this it the part of the brain that helps a person organize. And Son17's lack of organization is apparent to everyone. The lost homework, the school papers in the wrong notebook, the deadlines missed because he thought they were at a different time, the clean laundry and the dirty laundry in the same pile. These are obvious and there are many coping strategies we use to help with those.

But the executive center of the brain also controls a person's ability to self-motivate. And you would not believe how many times teachers and family members have told us "if he would just try a little harder". But he can't. Not always. Trying harder requires self-motivation. And that just isn't always there for him. And I think that is one of the biggest challenges he faces.

But what I think of as barriers for him are not always what he thinks of as barriers. It is fascinating to learn how things seem from his point of view. I've shared a couple of those things in other posts. Easy Mac Breakdown pointed out just how hard it is for him to step outside the "rules" and estimate just a bit. And A Moment of Insight stopped me in my tracks as I realized he had a problem that I would have never even considered.

But he surprised me even more one day when he told me he wished he had Down's Syndrome. His one friend has Down's Syndrome and Son17 was wishing he had the same. Astonished, I asked why? His answer was that his friend looks like he has a disability. Because of that, people know that he does and so they don't tease him or nag him when he does something that seems different. But Son17 looks pretty regular, so people often forget or just don't understand the nature of his disability. As a result, he is sometimes teased or shunned as just being "weird" (his word, not mine). This brought to mind one of the most powerful DVD's I've ever seen as a professional and as a parent. Last One Picked...First One Picked On focuses on this struggle that Son17 has experienced over and over in his life. In an ideal world, that DVD would be required viewing for everyone working in the field of education.

We've all seen the bumper stickers that hang on the back of so many cars today..."Proud Parent Of An Anytown High School Honor Student". Son17 has made the honor roll a couple of times. But that isn't the bumper sticker I want. I want one that says..."Proud Parent Of A Kid Who Faced So Many Challenges And Still Was Successful A Lot Of The Time".

That might be a lot to put on a bumper sticker. So Son17, consider this your bumper sticker. We know how hard it is for you. And we admire every accomplishment you've made.

A Continual "Letting Go" (part two)

One way to think about parenting is that it is a series of "letting go's". We let go of our kids' hand when they take those first teetering steps on their own. We let go of the bike when they make their first weaving solo trip on their two-wheeler. We let go when they walk into that big brick building on their first day of school and become part of the educational system. We let go when we hand them the car keys. We let go when they graduate and move away. And finally, we let go when they stand in front of their friends and family with their soul mate and begin their very own family.

With each letting go comes a mixed bag of feelings. Sometimes a bit of sadness, a tear, a lump in the throat, and a bit of worry. But that is often overshadowed by the feelings of pride and joy as we watch them grow and become the men and women they are capable of becoming.

Parenting a child with special needs has many of those same moments of letting go. But in many instances, there are other times to let go that can be very difficult.

Whether we realize it or not, many of us have an idea, an expectation, of what life will be like. When a child is first diagnosed with a disability, we are forced to start letting go of our expectations. We let go when, at a very young age, he stops getting any invitations to birthday parties. We let go when there are no friends to invite to his party. We let go when the preschool teacher calls for us to pick him up because she can't control his outbursts. There is a long series of "letting go's"... being placed on psychiatric and behavioral medications, adding new names to the long list of specialists involved in his care, starting family therapy to help siblings cope, needing more special education support in the classroom, setting up special funds and guardianship documents to provide for long term care, and most recently, extending his time in school so that he will not graduate with his class (see The PPT). Each "letting go" is a change in expectations about what our life will be like, and more importantly, what his life will be like. Each "letting go" is letting go of a dream.

Some experts who work with parents of kids with special needs compare this process to the well known stages of grief - denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. And we've certainly experienced all of those stages as parents. But what makes it difficult is that parents of kids with special needs go through this process repeatedly. I may be in a very good place of acceptance when suddenly there is a new "letting go". Then I find myself back in anger or depression and working my way through the feelings once again.

Most parents who have a kid with special needs will, at one time or another, stumble across a copy of Welcome to Holland by Emily Kingsley. This short analogy does a pretty nice job of summarizing some of the feelings for parents of these kids. And when she talks about the pain of "letting go" of the dream, she says it will "never, ever, ever, ever go away". And she is right. There is a certain relentless quality to coping with the needs of a child with disabilities.

Please don't read this and jump to the conclusion that we spend our lives being sucked into a quicksand of depression and sadness. That is not the case at all. Son17 is a great kid and has made huge strides in growth, maturity, and the development of coping skills for many of his disabilities. The doctors we've worked with have done remarkable jobs in providing therapy and medications to help him be more successful. And we've been very fortunate to have the support and help of many very talented professionals and many gifted and understanding teachers.

I also realize that in many ways, we are the lucky ones. Many families struggle with disabilities that are much more complex. There are plenty of kids who are medically fragile, kids with more profound learning disabilities, kids who are neurologically compromised in ways that cause seizures or other neurological complications. I can only imagine the struggles of some of those families.

For all of us, parents of neurotypical kids and parents of kids with special needs, we let go. Over and over. Many times we let go of the same things.

But sometimes not.

Defining A Life (part one)

Several folks have asked me to write more about Son17 and his special needs. And I think it might be good for me to write about it. So please bear with me as I try to share my thoughts and some of our experiences in having a kid with special needs.

First of all, let me say that every kid and every family is unique. I'm not making any attempt to define a disability nor give advice on how families should deal with it. We all have our successes and failures in parenting and that is no different when dealing with a kid with special needs.

So let's begin with the obvious question - what is his special need?

Son17 was first diagnosed with ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder). And trust me, he scored off the charts on the hyperactive part! But that was just the beginning. A few years later, as it was obvious there was more going on, his diagnosis was temporarily changed to PDD-NOS (Pervasive Developmental Disorder - Not Otherwise Specified). In other words, there was a lot going on but no one knew what. Eventually, that label was dropped. We returned to ADHD and added the diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome. Eventually the doctors identified two more disorders - Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and Anxiety Disorder. And that is where we stand today - four disabilities all mixed together.

If you think that adding a new diagnosis is just like adding 1+1, then you would be underestimating the combined impact. An additional disability is more of a multiplication problem than an addition problem. Just imagine for a moment, a person with an obsessive, compulsive need to do something. The inability to do whatever they are driven to do can be extremely upsetting. Now combine that with the anxiety disorder. The degree of anxiety about not completing the task skyrockets. When he was younger, we watched Son17 scream and tantrum for hours simply because he could not get his action figure to stand up on the uneven part of the carpet. No amount of soothing or redirection or intervention would help. He would immediately return to the source of the frustration and anxiety. And he would repeat that process over and over, sometimes for days or even weeks, until the compulsive need to stand that toy up suddenly went away and would be replaced by a different driving interest.

What else has this jumble of disabilities brought into your lives?

For almost two years the only thing in his room was a mattress and a pillow. His hyperactive bursts of climbing furniture without the ability to make any judgments about safety, combined with his destructive tantrums turned all furniture into either a safety hazard or a weapon of destruction. It was simply safer to leave the room bare.

As he grew older and stronger, there were the doors broken by repetitive opening and closing or simply by being slammed. Holes punched in walls during tantrums fueled by fits of frustration and anxiety.

It was impossible to get babysitters once Son17 was old enough to do damage. For seven years, my wife and I never went anywhere alone together. One or both of us was always with him when he wasn't in school.

And his drive to do things combined with the lack of social judgment created problems in school from the very first year. In kindergarten, a curriculum was used to teach the letters of the alphabet called The Letter People. Each week a different Letter Person was introduced - from Ms. A with the Achoo sneeze all the way to Mr. Z with the Zipping Zippers. There was a picture of the Letter Person to color on Monday. A song to learn on Tuesday. And other fun aspects of the curriculum that Son17 just adored. He could barely wait till each Monday rolled around to meet the next Letter Person. Eventually, the wait became intolerable and he pilfered the entire curriculum from the teacher's desk. This was a first year teacher and she was horrified that this cute little kid would just steal things from her desk! Of course, Son17 saw nothing wrong with what he had done. He just kept telling us - "I had to see who was coming next". While we sympathized with the teacher and tried to explain to Son17 why this was wrong, we also had a great laugh over the whole thing in private.

But these snapshots don't tell you who Son17 really is. Those are just a few glimpses into some of the struggles in his life. But he can also be extremely charming and funny. He is more inquisitive than either of our other kids. He was reading and comprehending at a tenth grade level before leaving the fourth grade. He can be extremely compassionate and is easily upset when he sees other kids being teased or bullied - especially if the victim is another kid with a disability. And last spring he stood in front of our entire church congregation and shared his thoughts on spirituality, the environment, and his struggle to figure out "how normal do I have to be?"

The current movement among special needs advocates is to always identify the person first and the disability second. For example, a person with autism, not an autistic person. This language is intended to change other's view of people with special needs. And I'm sure that is a good thing. But we already know he is more than just his disabilities. The diagnostic labels, the test scores, the psychiatric evaluations and these few anecdotes do not make a person.

And yet, these disabilities will no doubt have the greatest influence in his life. For much of his life, he has been and will be defined more by what he can't do, than what he can.

And our entire family has adjusted to compensate for his needs and his deficits in more ways than we even recognize. We never decide to spontaneously jump in the car and go for a burger. He needs advanced notice. We didn't take vacations or stay in hotels for over ten years because his volatile behavior made that impossible. And anyone visiting our home would certainly wonder about the Lego's carefully arranged in the middle of the table during mealtime, the piles of books in odd places, or the plethora of "bouncy balls" - hard rubber balls that Son17 keeps all over the house as a tool to manipulate when he feels particularly hyper. But we barely notice these things any more.

For those of you patient enough to read this far, you still don't know Son17 any better than you would know someone else if you only had a few brief anecdotes from which to learn. This feels much like the parable of the five men who were blindfolded and led to touch different parts of the elephant. Each described what he was touching but no one described an elephant. And I feel like I've blindfolded you and you only got to touch the trunk. Defining a life is not easy.

I gave a presentation to some special education teachers a couple of years ago about being the parent of a child with special needs. One person asked me to summarize the experience in one word. That word would be "more". More doctors appointments. More teacher meetings. More mess in our house. More limitations on what we can do as a family. More medications. More specialists. More time alone because even our families, while somewhat understanding and sympathic, do not understand the disabilities and find it difficult to offer much help. More challenges for long term planning and long term care.

Son17 is a terrific kid. But he is also more.