Tag: pandemic

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Cooking

My father is a Johnson and Wales Culinary Arts graduate, and worked a good portion of his life as a chef. Since I was old enough to be trusted in the kitchen, I’ve been cooking with him. I remember learning at age eight how to scramble eggs, my first official meal cooked.

Since that day, he has taught me so much in the kitchen. Today, I still text or call him for advice. We excitedly share delicious new foods we find; and that happens often because he is now an employee of my favorite market. He was so excited to share these cream filled gingerbread cookie sandwiches with me. And for good reason- they are now my absolute favorite.

I have a secret though. For most of my adult life I’ve fought what I guess is considered eating disordered behavior. Since my teen years, I’ve restricted my own food consumption, when my emotions get out of hand. I avoid mirrors and scales, like it’s my job. It was an issue that I held close, and did not share with anyone. Including my therapists over the years. It got out of hand, and I developed an exercise compulsion, and between that and the restricting, lost too much weight. I couldn’t stop – I tried everything. Giving up my Fitbit. Adding Ensure, eggnog and daily smoothies. None of it worked- I could not get “lose more” out of my mind. I ended up 20 pounds underweight, which earned me a ticket to a local eating disorder program, for two months.

At that program, I relearned how to eat properly, was taught healthy coping skills through CBT and DBT. We worked on body image issues, but not nearly enough to get me past mine. I still can’t look in a mirror or step on a scale. I can’t wear sized pants, preferring leggings or sweatpants which are more forgiving in size and shape. I try to rationalize this is healthy; this is what healthy looks and feels like. Often I find it doesn’t work though.

I get this too big for my skin feeling, that I just can’t lose. My family, and especially my husband, are always encouraging me to eat. He tells me I could stand to gain double digits in pounds; but I take that and mentally twist it into an insult. I’ve finally started responding with, “But I have to live in my skin. And gaining weight makes me too uncomfortable.”

I’m at my target weight from my program. It’s been a yo-yo year with weight, but I’m making an effort to stay near that target number I graduated with.

I’m mortified to be in my 40’s, and having to seek treatment for an eating disorder. I thought at this point in my life, I’d have it a bit more together. I thought those days of inpatient/ outpatient treatment were over. My pretreatment physical and lab work were an absolute mess. My blood pressure was irregular, potassium was off, and many other values which made me nervous. I didn’t realize skipping a meal here and there was destroying my body. That was a sobering realization, and one which helped me to change my ways. I want to see my child grow up, so I started eating.

I don’t know what is at the root of my eating disorder. I don’t know what caused it to flare, to the point of needing treatment last year. I wish I had the willpower to will it away, but I now know that’s not how these issues work. I have stopped the compulsive exercise. I don’t wear my Fitbit anymore, I put it away at the start of the pandemic. I don’t think it’s a helpful tool for me. I want to get to a healthier spot, where I can put it back on, and not have it be a challenge to reach 20,000 (or 25,000) steps a day.

Back to cooking. Between the eating disorder, and then the pandemic and all the stress which came with, I haven’t been cooking. We have been eating easy meals, nothing made from scratch. This past weekend, my shopping list for my husband was different. I decided to put together a list of ingredients to make some homemade meals. It’s been a while, since I went “home” in the kitchen. I’ve been avoiding it since treatment. It was too large of a hurdle, and I couldn’t figure out how to get past it. Turns out, it was just a decision I had to make.

Most of my homemade meal recipes are memorized. Many have been passed down from my father to me. I was able to plan out a solid two weeks of home style cooking meals for us. And I’ve spent four nights in the kitchen cooking. It feels so good, so right, so comforting, to be home in the kitchen. I think I may be able to get this eating thing conquered this way.

Yesterday, on a hike with my dad and my son, my father asked me for a recipe. He asked me, for a recipe. I was shocked. It was a first, and it was a huge compliment, which I took as such.

Returning home, I started cooking dinner. Once we sat down to our ham, mashed potatoes and green beans, my husband and son looked to me: “It’s wonderful to have you back in the kitchen. We’ve both missed your amazing meals. Thank you.” I think I’m making progress, and with feedback like this, I can continue.

In all of this eating disorder stuff, I discovered an author who has changed my life. Glennon Doyle- who I cannot recommend enough. She’s had a messy, beautiful life, and shares it with the world. I’ve drawn immense strength from her work, and found it inspirational to continue my fight. She too, fights body image/eating disordered thoughts – and is close in age to me. Her books are so readable, relatable and real, that I often find myself rereading them. She’s my hero. 💙

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Panic

I love my 8 year old son with all my heart. I would do ANYTHING for him! Our relationship is suffering so much for this grand social experiment- I can’t reach him. Can we take a year off? Can’t I quit? Remote learning is destroying his self esteem, our relationship, and really challenging my patience.

We have chosen to keep him home year round this year due to being a high risk family. Safety over sanity, I guess. We worry that the transition from one day in school, one day home, repeated all week will wreck any chance he has of learning. So we decided to keep him home. His developmental pediatrician, and the SPED department at the school understood, and are all doing their best to support us.

I have never had this much anxiety before in my life. And I was diagnosed with GAD as a kid. I’m 42 and worried about this level of stress, and what it’s doing to my body, and my son. I know he picks up on it, I know it triggers his anxiety in response. I do not know how to deescalate us both. I’ve spent years studying CBT and DBT. No coping skills are helping. Therapy helps some. Medications don’t fix situations.

So, we flail. Trying to meet expectations that are so out of reach… setting his little heart up for failure – if he saw the amount of work assigned daily. I don’t show him. I’ve made some massive adjustments in ways of learning. I don’t know if the school will be okay with them, and I don’t give a… He feels successful if I type his words for him. We do all math work on a whiteboard together. Science is his favorite.

We just got an IEP. But how will they deliver services remotely? Cases are increasing in our town, and the school is open for hybrid. Do we send him for services? Do we send him back to hybrid? Will he learn better there? It would be much less stress, and tension between us. But he’s as terrified of COVID as most of us masked people. Would he see it as freedom, or abandonment? How behind is he? How worse would his anxiety and depression be? Does he know I love him? Does he know my anxiety is from the expectations the school places upon us, and not from being with him? How would he do with the transitions? Who do I ask for help?

I’m lucky- I am disabled, so I’m able to be home and focused on his schooling and provide the constant 1:1 he needs. I count those blessings every day. I’m terrified that we are going to fall behind on work- and the school will report us to social services. (It happened to his dad). It’s a real fear – not that we’ve ever been in trouble, but one that is never far from my mind. And I know there are millions more families in much worse situations than us. And my heart goes out to each and every one of you.

Lest anyone think I’m holding the school, staff or his amazing teacher responsible for this – I’m not. Not at all. We are in one of the best schools in the state, and it’s public. They are phenomenal to work with. The IEP process: we worked together for the common educational goal of a free appropriate public education, for my son. There was no need for a lawyer or advocate. All of these women know our son closely, and have been helping him for years. To finally have earned him the IEP? Feels like we won the lottery. I treasure each and every soul at his school. And I know this is most likely more difficult for everyone who works there. I’m not losing site of this.

Each day is an absolute horror show. I’ve yet to figure out a way to alert my son that it’s time to start working, that doesn’t end in him throwing or breaking something. (See, transitions = low frustration tolerance with him). I’ve tried color coded schedules with alarms. I’ve tried rewards, positive reinforcement. I’ve talked assignments up, explaining “it’s a short day – we don’t have much work, you’ll breeze right through it!” I’ve taken whatever trinket gets tossed, and put it away until work is completed. I’ve tried restricting privileges until work is completed. I’ve tried many, many movement breaks. I’ve tried breaking the assignments up into more manageable chunks of time.

What seems to work best? Reviewing the day in front of us, so he knows what to expect. Giving him choices of which subject to start with. Breaking it up throughout the day, with plenty of adventures in between assignments. Keeping with the same routine and schedule. Using a whiteboard for math, typing for writing, and hopefully soon, speech to text software to really give him some independence. Reminding him that I’m his helper and advocate- and that I have nothing to do with the assigned work, other than my willingness to be his 1:1 aide.

The strain this is putting on my marriage can’t be overlooked. My husband works full time, but is always offering whatever support he can give, outside of work hours. To me, that’s not helpful. We have differing strategies for interacting with our son, when it comes to schooling, and that seems to be coming to the forefront. So, like most things I said: “Thanks, but no thanks. We will stick with our methods.”

It really stinks being a control freak, like me. However, we do have our routines ironed out – some such as, giving him gum when he has to sit and attend to a lesson. That was the occupational therapist’s suggestion at the school. She said the physical sensory input of the gum and jaw movement would help him attend, and sit. So gum it is. It does help.

God what I wouldn’t give to be going on a play date – my biggest concern which snack to pack to avoid an allergic reaction from anyone we are meeting. Or to be thinking about what to get for this weeks birthday child’s present. But instead, this is my reality.

My husband is getting laid off the day before Thanksgiving. I’m nervous because I know I’m going to have to swallow my pride in a few weeks, and go to the local food bank. Again, I’m so thankful for their service. I’m fearful though. This year there may not be enough food. Have you seen the lines in Texas?

I volunteered for a year at ours – and it was the most emotional few hours of my week. Many of the regular clients – I was their only social contact, all week. The love and kindness they expressed melted me. I don’t think we hear enough of the stories from the inside. We see the pictures and hear the statistics, but what about the people? What are their stories? Where are they now? I’m rambling.

I’m scared the impact this pandemic is having on EVERYTHING. Sorry to unleash my anxiety on you all. If you have followed me thus far, I thank you. Please know I send all my prayers and thoughts of comfort and health to all of you. I’m going to go count my blessings to keep myself in check.

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October 2020 in America

Okay, I’m going to talk politics. It’s not to convince or sway anyone; I just want to share what my view is, from my tiny dot on the electoral map, in blue Massachusetts.

Life is currently quite a stark contrast from where it was one year ago. One year ago last night, was my son’s first soccer championship game. It was definitely one of the most exciting evenings for him, as he scored two goals in their winning game. My little second grader learned that night how valuable a team is, and how important his role was, to the team.

Since March 16th of this year, he’s been learning about different teams we are on. His school was shuttered on March 13, and has yet to open back up. We have been remote learning since.

Starting on March 16th, as a family, we tuned in to our Governor’s daily press briefing on Covid. Governor Charlie Baker is a Republican. However, he puts country over party, and throughout the entire pandemic, he’s governed from what’s best for his constituents. He hasn’t fallen for the “red states vs. blue states” drama which has been top down policy from Washington DC.

In April, Governor Baker was overcome when describing his administration’s efforts to procure PPE for our state:

“We have been chasing personal protective equipment and especially N95 masks basically as much as we’ve been awake for the past few weeks,” the governor said, citing the challenges in obtaining orders of the supplies.

Massachusetts had ordered a shipment of 3 million masks from BJ’s, which were “lost” in the Port of New York, he reiterated. The governor said Friday he assumes those masks were confiscated and put in the federal stockpile. Marylou Sudders, the state’s health and human services secretary, has said they were impounded by the federal government on March 18.”

https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.boston.com/news/local-news/2020/04/03/charlie-baker-emotional-response-kraft-mask-delivery/amp

So, my son, husband and I have watched in horror as this played out. We’ve seen countless other missteps by the Trump administration throughout the summer in their handling of the pandemic.

We haven’t been able to hug, or visit, my 92 year old grandma. We used to see her at least every other month. She lives two hours away, and it just hurts so much to know this is how it’s going to be for some time.

See, I’m high risk, as is my grandma. My life has stopped. I haven’t been to a market, mall, or any public place since February. I’m starting to feel pretty feral.

My son has had one play date since this started. His best friend is high risk, with asthma, so we have been extra careful with him.

Other friends have reached out for play dates, but their parents don’t believe in masks, and their child is in the YMCA program for 10 hours a day; with many other children. I worry about the risks there, so have ghosted the mom. I don’t feel it’s her business knowing our health issues; and if they don’t believe in masks, or the threat this virus poses, I really don’t care to spend time together.

I have witnessed my son grow so much over this pandemic. His knowledge of civics and American government is much more advanced than your average third grade student. He is extra cautious with mask wearing, sanitizer use, and social distancing.

We’ve had so much time this summer to learn, and teach him about social justice. His school was instrumental in laying the groundwork with him; teaching him early about Martin Luther King Jr., and many other heroes who stand on the right side of history.

George Floyd and the Black Lives Matter movement, brought up so many questions from him. I knew I had one chance to get this right. Though we don’t have a TV, he somehow saw what went down with George Floyd, at someone’s home. We have spent many hours, over many days speaking about racism, and how wrong it is.

I found a phenomenal book on YouTube, and it really helped. https://youtu.be/LnaltG5N8nE

I hope for a better future for my country. I hope for health for us. I hope we are able to have a leader who cares for us, willingly leading the United States of America as a country; and not “red states versus blue states.” I want to be able to send my son to school; to extracurricular activities, to play dates, and on fun trips to museums, farms and vacations. I want him to have a “normal” childhood. I don’t want him locked up, isolating for another four years. I want to hug my grandma, and all my other extended family. I don’t want to be afraid to go to the beach, the market or the movies. I am tired of worrying about catching COVID, and that being the primary focus of our lives.

Reality is, no matter how much therapeutics, and vaccines are lauded by this current administration, we wouldn’t get the Walter Reed treatment. I can’t take vaccines, not even the flu, due to chronic pre-existing conditions. So, this masked up isolation is my reality for the foreseeable future.

I’ve been involved with politics and presidential elections since I was in college. I’ve always tried to stay impartial, and primarily worked at every campaign since 2004, with registering people to vote. It is our civic obligation to cast our votes. In 2003-2004, I registered so many students at my college with Rock the Vote, that as a thank you, they sent me and a friend to Boston, for the Democratic debate at Faneuil Hall. What a memorable night! To be in a room with 10 highly qualified candidates for presidency was a powerful moment in my life. Since then, I’ve played some part in each election.

I was taught the importance of civic engagement from an early age, by my family, not through school. My grandmother taught me so much, as did my mother and father. I’ve spent time at protests. I’ve stood outside the post office with petitions against overreaching spying through the Patriot Act. I’ve heard Howard Zinn speak, in person, on the Boston Common. I spent a year volunteering with the local food pantry. I’ve advocated for decades for people with disabilities, and the elderly. I’m on a first name basis with our representative’s office. I’ve written letters to the editor.

One thing that has always been a driving force in my life is fairness. I feel everyone should get the same chance, the playing field should be level, at the starting point. I don’t identify with any specific political ideology; what drives me is the urge to see us all treated fairly, with similar opportunities. I cannot tolerate any “isms”: racism, classism, and ableism. I refuse to believe rules apply to me, but not to those at the top of society. I believe in political correctness; because what gives others the right to condemn those who are different? I believe in masks: I wear my mask for you, please wear one for me. I believe in science, because unlike magic, it’s real. I believe good will always win, over evil.

I’m praying my country makes the right decision next Tuesday. I apologize to the world for these last four years. I did everything I could to make sure the misogynistic fool wasn’t elected in 2016, and I’ve done as much as I can in 2020 for the same. Praying for unity, science, sanity and empathy for 2021.

Disclaimer: if you are going to comment on 6% of Covid deaths were only from Covid/ Q sent Trump/ masks cause Covid: kindly unfollow me. You will be blocked. We don’t see reality the same, and I don’t want to engage. Thank you.

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Stigma Post #1

The stigma associated with any health diagnosis can be difficult to live with. Mental health and neurodevelopmental diagnoses are still very sensitive topics. As a society today, we act as if we are so enlightened and accepting, but many times, that’s not the case.

Take, for example, the current handling of remote learning for students across the nation. There is no nationalized plan to implement IEP’s; nor anything offered statewide even. My son is on a 504, which has been rendered useless, since he’s not physically in school to receive the built in supports and accommodations.

Living in Massachusetts, school is cancelled for the remainder of the year. Our Governor, Charlie Baker, has been having daily press conferences throughout the stay at home period; keeping citizens up to date with the latest information and advisories. Our state is in the first phase of reopening.

This post though, it’s not about that. It’s about how invisible our special needs children have become in this pandemic.

Special needs children (and adults for that matter), have been completely neglected from inclusion, anywhere. This is the exact opposite of how it’s supposed to be.

I’ve heard Baker and Cuomo both repeatedly speaking of the graduating seniors, and how sad it is they are losing out on their chance of physically graduating, attending prom, banquets, etc. I feel sympathy for them, sure. However, these young adults have their whole life ahead of them. They made it! They are off to great things – the world is their oyster.

Like a mom friend on Facebook mentioned, our children are being left behind. They are invisible. When I try and talk with others in real life about how far behind my son is slipping, I’m dismissed with, “Well, they won’t be holding this time against anyone.” It’s invalidating and infuriating.

When both Governors Baker and Cuomo were asked about what’s being done to support adult disabled populations, neither was ready with an answer. I was not impressed. This population is just as at risk as those in nursing homes, especially if in congregate living. I’m aware they can’t be on top of everything, but we’re in week ten here. (And I’m not meaning to negate any of the wonderful work both have done to keep their states safe. This is just a matter very dear to my heart).

Perusing the Massachusetts Department of Education website, I’m saddened to see that there’s absolutely no mention of special education administration, or expectations.

As a special education family, we are left floundering. I felt invisible before this- now I feel as if we just don’t matter. And my husband and I have fought a long, hard battle over the past three years to be where we are with the 504 Ed plan. Our son has fought even more so, and to see him regress is heartbreaking.

I submitted a request this week for a re-evaluation for an IEP for my son. I don’t know when that will happen, but at least it’s been sent and received.

I just want for him what should be rightfully his. A Free Appropriate Public Education. Is that really too much to ask?

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Baby Steps

Yesterday was a great day- spent with my son. We worked on schoolwork sporadically throughout the day, interspersed with fun activities; we built a clay volcano, made bubbles, and flew his drone. Unfortunately, the drone is stuck 40 feet up in a tree – so hopefully the wind will push it down in the coming days. Losing the drone was heartbreaking. My son is an incredibly sensitive little boy, and has yet to stop beating himself up over it. The controller glitched. I was watching, he pushed the joystick to raise it a foot or two, and it took off- up and forward. He tried immediately to power it down, but that didn’t work. (Smart child!) He came running to me for help; and try as I did, the thing had a mind of it’s own. Talk about feeling like a parental failure – I couldn’t help with something that simple? Fortunately, he did not breakdown into hysterics like the last time we lost it in the marsh. My father and I were able to recover it that day. We needed a kayak, rake and step ladder, but in less than two hours we were successful. I can’t say the same for yesterday. We can’t even spot it with the binoculars- as it’s the same green as the fresh oak leaves it now rests in. I know how much he’s hurting. I do the same thing to myself. The constant drumbeat “I’m so stupid/ useless/ a waste of space…” echoes in my mind as well. I try to put a smile on my face, and not share how bleak I feel, but I’m starting to realize there’s no hiding it from him. I don’t know how to help him with this. I’m 41, and have been dealing with this my whole life. Fifteen years of therapy hasn’t undone the record on repeat in my mind. I’ve learned to accept it. It’s become part of who I am. The hardest part for me is to stop myself from believing it on bad days. It’s so tempting to allow my mind to slip into the dark tide. I’ve lived from there for so long, that it’s like a comfy safety blanket from childhood. Sure, I’ve tried almost every antidepressant on the market- and none have helped. I’ve been on mood stabilizers and antipsychotics; all meds just numb me. The thoughts are the same. Dark, angry, full of self hatred. Nothing big pharma has to offer helps. I end up on meds, then more meds to quell the side effects of the original meds. All of a sudden I’m taking four different medications, and noticing how much is the same, just a little bit slower. This is NOT what I want for him. He’s an incredibly gifted and beautiful soul. I know he will go far. He is on a waiting list for therapy, with a local agency. Two months ago, prior to the start of the pandemic, we were told it would be about eight weeks. They had the shortest waiting list in our area, but offered so much he needs. The agency offers individual counseling, family and behavioral therapy, social skills groups, parenting groups, and DBT skills groups for children. I’m praying we are able to get him in there. So much of what they offer fits his, and our, needs. DBT has been a life changer for me, and I’ve only been studying the skills for about a year now. When I’m able to catch myself and remember what skill I need in the moment, it’s miraculous. To be able to give that to my son, at the age of eight, would be wonderful. See, I bet, learning these skills at a young age may make them part of who he is. Unlike trying to reinvent myself at forty… The good news is we are getting along much better – there was no violence or back talk when I said those magical four words: “Time for school work.” He came willingly. I’m doing the exact opposite of what his teachers want, but it’s what works for my child, and therefore me. And yesterday? During remote learning? He didn’t once utter “I’m so stupid.” No, he powered down and proceeded to get every question correct. He received much needed, and well deserved praise. Topped with chocolate ice cream for dessert. ❤️
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Free Appropriate Public Education (FAPE)

So I’ve mentioned how my son was diagnosed with severe ADHD, and a communication disorder in May of 2017 at Boston Children’s Hospital.

We have been working with a developmental pediatrician there since, who believes our son should be on an IEP. We do too, and tried for one, back in kindergarten. The school refused to accept the communication disorder, and chose to give us a 504 plan, stating he does not meet the requirements for an IEP.

After the past two months of remote learning, and both my husband and I trying everything within our power to get our son to work on his schoolwork, with absolutely no success; it’s time to put in another request for an IEP. And now, we are ready to hire an advocate.

The administrator in charge of the 504 plans is the vice principal at the school. She tends to make offhand remarks, without much forethought.

Take, for example, “I was in the classroom yesterday trying to get a good read on S and where he is in relation to his classmates. He really does have the most severe case of ADHD I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been doing this for over twenty years!”

Both my husband and I were stunned, and speechless. The two classroom teachers jumped in and tried to diffuse the comment; but the damage was done, in my mind. How could she make a statement like that, and he not qualify for an IEP?

ADHD qualifies students for an IEP under the health qualification.

His 504 plan is useless to us with remote learning. The accommodations run from extra time for classroom assignments, different styles of teaching (visual, auditory and written), heavy work (when he gets too distracted, send him on an important errand), and on the list goes.

To be honest, most of the accommodations don’t help- as his amazing co-taught classroom teachers explained to us in the last 504 meeting in February. They did work for kindergarten and first grade, but he needs to be present for all the lessons this year. So sending him to the office for busy work when he gets too distracted and hyperactive doesn’t work. He ends up losing out.

What’s become most apparent throughout this entire remote learning experience is that he needs 1:1 intervention, to keep him on task, at all times. This is something the developmental pediatrician has been pushing for since day one. It’s also the most difficult and prohibitive accommodation to have written into an IEP or 504. Schools don’t, and in many cases can’t, afford to provide 1:1 assistance- it’s cost prohibitive to hire on a staff member for just one child.

We’ve tried all their suggestions. We’ve had at least two 504 meetings per year, and been treated as if that’s too much to ask. The results have been less than stellar. His kindergarten and first grade teachers were at their wits end. This year was the first year of medication for him; and with it he was placed in a co-taught classroom with the two best second grade teachers.

His teachers have been going above and beyond for him, and us. The weekly emails and Zoom conferences throughout the school closure will be our documentation for the new request for an IEP. They recommended last week that I can do the writing of his assignments for him, IF he can dictate the words to me. After a full week of trying this, we were able to complete 2/4 days of work.

So now I have to organize, research and plan. I have to email the director of the special education department to request an another evaluation for an IEP. Who knows when it will happen, or how. It has to be done though.

We are losing him. I say, “Okay, time to start some schoolwork in five minutes,” as I set a timer on my phone. At the mere mention of schoolwork, he self destructs. Things get thrown, he breaks his favorite toys, tells me and my husband how much he hates us…. and that’s just the beginning. We can’t reason with him when he is like this. We can’t reach him.

I wish I knew how to reach him. Last night, once things had cooled off some, my husband asked him why does he react like that? And that little seven year old boy was able to articulate: “When I get angry like that, I lose control of my body and just can’t stop. I need help mama and papa,” as the hysterical tears started up again.

I did the only thing I knew how. I held him tight, and let him know I loved him.

I’m hoping to find some answers in this book. Has anyone read it? I’d love any and all suggestions!

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Teacher Parade

Yesterday, my son’s elementary school held a teachers parade throughout the town. We were able to catch it in two spots.

It brought tears for me. Tears for my son and this new world we’re living in. Tears because here was his community; almost every car had someone calling to him by name, waving, and telling him how much they missed him so. Tears because they have to be apart; now, when he most needs them in his life. Tears because I can’t give this to him – and that’s what I want most. I want normal back for him.

I knew we were blessed to be a part of this community- yesterday just confirmed that even more so.

As we pulled away, my seven year old son said “That was special! That made all of this worth it. I miss them so much and can’t wait to be back!” To hear, and see the smile in both his voice and face, lightened the weight on my heart some.

I knew, as we left, that this was a turning point for us. I’m hoping this helps strengthen his resolve for the 19 remaining days of school. I know it strengthened mine to continue with remote learning.

His teachers aren’t just there for the paycheck. These women (and yes, they are all women) are there to teach, but also love our children like they’re their own. The signs, the comments, the organizing…. all of it, for a community that’s been torn apart by the virus.

The teachers put the children first yesterday. We need to keep doing that, today. This world is frightening for adults right now – we must band together and make it less so for the children. Thank you to my sons school for reminding me of that 💕

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Small victories

Life is what you make of it, I’m constantly being reminded. 

Living in this new world, I’m finding it imperative to try my best at living in the present moment. 

My husband and I keep picking up the same conversation; needing to be sensitive when it comes to our son.He will be turning eight years old at the end of July, and has been hyper focusing on his birthday for over a month. It just occurred to me last week that his birthday may be one of the only concrete, positive things to look forward to. 

School has been cancelled for the year, play dates too. Camp is probably cancelled, the beaches are closed. Our “beach nana” from Canada, who comes and stays a week at a time, five times per summer, may not be down to visit, with the border being closed. Our favorite splash pad probably won’t be opening. 

Basically, we are facing a summer without the usual fun. The Fourth of July parades and fireworks have been cancelled across the state, as has our cities blessing of the fleet celebration. I’m not sure what we will do to fill the hours this year. I know we will figure it out.

Every spring, we plant a vegetable garden, with high hopes. My attention to watering wanes towards the end of July, and the poor plants don’t do well. Perhaps this year we will have the time and energy to really care for it. I have a strong helper now, curious and incredibly knowledgeable about gardening. I’ve taught him everything I know about gardening, and he has retained it. These are the lessons I think are most important, and will be a useful skill throughout his life. 

I am planning to teach him how to cook this summer as well. We come from a big family of foodies; my father is a professionally trained chef, and his 91 year old mother is still cooking and baking for the family visits. I grew up in a restaurant kitchen, and feel most at home behind a stove. I hope to pass this along to my son. He already impresses us by his varied palate, and choices he makes. (baked Haddock instead of the kids chicken nuggets). Tonight I plan to have him help me make New England Baked Haddock with a cracker crumb topping. Earlier in the week, we made a banana cake with a cream cheese frosting that was a hit with everyone who tried it – including his grandparents. 

I’m learning as I go along. Right now I’m reading “Super-parenting for ADD” by Edward M. Hallowell M. D. and Peter S. Jensen M.D.. They emphasize three important goals for parents of ADD/ADHD: 

Unconditional love: tune out the diagnosticians and simply nourish the spirit of your child for who he is 

Viewing the mirror traits: recognize the positive sides of the negative symptoms associated with ADD: stubbornness= persistence; impulsiveness= creativity; intrusiveness = eagerness. 

The cycle of excellence: nurture an environment in which a child can safely take risks, reserve time to let a child dabble as a way to learn, encourage playful practice, support mastery of a skill, and then recognize a child’s accomplishments. 

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School Refusal

When I became a mother, I was warned that my heart now would live outside my body; in my child.

It’s true, my heart fills with his successes, and breaks with each failure (and right now, he’s seeing so much failure in his life with schooling – and my hands are tied). I’ve followed the protocols- reaching out to his teachers often, updating them weekly on his refusal to remote learn. We have tried numerous creative solutions, with no positive results.

I DON’T BLAME HIM. Not one bit. This is more than should be expected of any second grader; especially one with learning disabilities.

Yesterday we made it to the Zoom meeting, and that’s it. I couldn’t bring myself to even attempt to try to get him to work on his assignments. Not after hearing him tell me all day Monday “I’m so stupid,” on repeat.

See, this whole remote learning has shredded his self esteem. He witnesses his classmates attending to Zoom, in a way he can’t. He is so bright – his teachers and developmental pediatrician both remind us of this whenever we meet; and it’s blatant when conversing with him. His vocabulary is stronger than most adults I know, and it amazes me, daily. Yesterday, he was able to get us back on track while on a hike – without a map or compass. His sense of direction was in tune, better than my GPS. He creatively solves problems for me, all the time.

I am so proud of my little boy. But it’s breaking my heart to see what these insurmountable demands from the school are doing to him, mentally. I feel backed into a corner. My mama bear instincts want to call it all off – but I’m sure that would invite repercussions into our home.

He is a wiggly one, always on the go. At five he articulated to me: “Mama, sometimes my brain says stop but my body keeps going. What do I do?”

We’ve learned to work around these issues. We hike, deep into the woods, many times per week. Nature grounds our home – and burning off energy makes schoolwork easier. We don’t follow any specific diets, but do try to eat more of a whole food approach. We don’t have a TV, and that definitely helps. I know a strict schedule and routine is helpful, but we generally aim to do things around the same time each day.

I try, in my own way, to use life as teaching moments. Like baking a cake, or keeping a nature journal, or tracking our vegetable garden, daily, in our journal. He’s learning so much, elsewhere, and reads on his own now. Doesn’t this count?

I don’t know what I’m trying to say here. I guess it’s just to admit defeat, letting the world know I’m at the epicenter of parental failure. I want nothing more than to protect this little soul – hold him close and not let any of this hurt who he is as a person; but know that goes against what is expected of me, as a pandemic parent, and now part time teacher.

Yesterday, an article from http://www.understood.org showed up in my email. It was perfectly timed.

School Refusal: What It Means When Kids Won’t Do Schoolwork

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‘It Was Just Too Much’: How Remote Learning Is Breaking Parents

www.nytimes.com/2020/04/27/nyregion/coronavirus-homeschooling-parents.html

I love my son with all my heart, and we both love learning and sharing what we learn. We also lucked out this year and have an amazing duo of dedicated teachers for his second grade class. They have been so on top of making remote learning fun and exciting each day.

However, I know I’m not alone when I say it’s getting to be next to impossible for he and I to remote learn these days. The schedule is supposed to be 9-11:10, four days per week. We still have yet to finish Monday’s work, and it’s Thursday.

I made the executive decision yesterday to take a day off for both of our mental health; and we spent the day outside exploring instead. We connected, and had a wonderful day – all three of us.

My appreciation for all teachers, especially his, has grown exponentially over the past six weeks. I can’t imagine where teachers find such patience. How they are able to teach my child’s class via Zoom, while also teaching their own children.

This article is so well written. Please read if you have a chance.

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