Steve went to Chicago on Sunday for two days of meetings. Normally, I don't sweat it when he leaves town. I know I won't be able to sleep, so I rent chick-flicks and eat popcorn in bed. Ainsley usually finds her way to me in the middle of the night, snuggles into my spot on the bed, pinning me between her little body and the dog's. It's a nice way to rest, as long as it's temporary.
Steve's absence made me exceptionally irritable. Maybe it was because the kids have been testing the limits to the extreme, and I knew I had to handle it completely alone for a few days. No tag team parenting to keep me from losing it. This was not a good situation for any of us given the end-of-summer tension in the air.
Monday morning was all out of whack. Ian was hyperactive, belligerent, and disrespectful. He has been hitting Ainsley a lot lately, and that morning he added me to his selection of punching bags. No matter how many times I said "stop", he just laughed and kept going. I began doling out the punishments as fast as he could throw a punch. By the time he left for camp, he had lost two weeks of computer use. That didn't stop him from socking our 4 year-old neighbor a few times on the way to camp. This was so unlike him.
A few hours later a teacher from the camp called. Ian was sobbing. He said he was in pain and was tired. He had been to the bathroom several times, had refused to eat lunch, and was asking for me. We spoke briefly on the phone. He begged me to come get him as fast as I could. I could tell he was terrified about something. So, I drove as fast as I could get away with to find out what was wrong.
When I arrived, he was still sobbing. I took him into a darkened room that had a rocking chair in it. He sat in my lap with his head on my shoulder, and we rocked for about 20 minutes. Slowly, he came around and was able to tell me that he missed me terribly and was afraid I was going away forever. How he'd come to that conclusion was beyond me at that particular moment, so we just hung out together for the next fifteen minutes until camp let out.
Once home, he was back to badgering Ainsley and practicing his left jab on me. By 4:00, I'd had it. This must stop immediately! I marched him to his room and told him he had 15 minutes to think about his behavior, then we would talk. As I turned to leave the room, I saw the prescription container lid we use to hold his pills when it is time to take them. That morning's dose of Concerta and Zoloft were still in the lid. I had remembered to bring them to him when I woke him up, but I must have been distracted and forgot to give them to him. OH. . .MY. . .GAWD!!! He'd had an ADHD tirade/panic attack. I felt three inches tall.
I suppose it could have been worse. This could have been the first day of school. There is no telling how that would have turned out, but knowing how good his teachers are, they could have handled it remarkably well. Considering his Spanish camp teachers know very little about him, I think they were pretty amazing at dealing with him under these circumstances. There is something about seeing strangers cope so well with my challenging kid that shakes me out of my pity party.
Tuesday wasn't much better as far as either child's behavior goes, but at least I had my head on straight. Maybe a day without meds takes two to get back into the swing of things - I don't know, but I wasn't willing to let him get away with much. I also didn't yell, even though I wanted to; but I made it very clear that Ian and Ainsley could choose to follow the rules and be rewarded for good behavior or they could choose to ignore my requests, suggestions, and requirements and experience the consequences. They chose the latter. Not a good choice.
Today was a much better day. Ian and I were on the same page and moved steadily and smoothly through the day; Ainsley was still staring at the cover trying to decide if she wanted to read this book. Hopefully, tomorrow, she will choose to jump ahead to the next chapter with us.
1 comment:
We started 2nd grade last Thursday, which is why you haven't heard from me lately (thank God about the bead - and I would have bribed him too! My son has eczema in his ear canals--oh, the horror--and I have to regularly go in there with tweezers to get "clumps" of icky things, ugh).
Anyway, thought I'd offer a perspective for you on missing meds. As an adult who takes ADD and mood meds (Adderall and Effexor in my case - Effexor helps hot flashes greatly, btw, just as a side note ----sooooooo worth it), I have to say that yes, missing a day will usually throw you out of whack for more than a day, which definitely sucks. :(
I actually split my Effexor out into 2 smaller doses, one at lunch and one at dinner, so that I would have more constant coverage and so that, should I miss one or forget one for a few extra hours, it wouldn't play such havok with my system - just something to keep in mind.
Another thought... I don't know what his Zoloft dose is, but if there is a smaller dose (half?), you might talk to his doctor about keeping a few samples of that on hand for days when he might miss one. He could still take the smaller dose late in the day and not have his levels get nearly as out of balance as they would by skipping entirely or taking two full doses closer together (which I can also attest is not so fun).
In the case of the ADD meds, I've found that SOMETIMES skipping a day can be beneficial for me in the long run, BUT I'm not an aspie who lives on routine, I'm an adult, etc. That said, though, there are also days that I will forget it and it's suddenly noon and I'm feeling like I must have left my @$$ in the shower because I'm pretty sure I couldn't find it with both hands, a map, and a flashlight and am frustrated to an obscene level and then it dawns on me that I forgot to take my Adderall. Not cool.
If he's at all like me, the day he missed his meds, it was missing the Concerta that left him spinning; actually, that's close - it's lot like getting off the Tilt-A-Whirl and not remembering how to walk. Behavior on the day after probably had a lot more to do with the Zoloft level having dropped some.
I can't remember how long he has been on the Concerta, but as an aside, it made me jumpy as all hell and MEAN. I know plenty of people who take it without problem and actually had it help their nastiness, but it did have the opposite effect on me personally.
Hang in there; this, too, shall pass. And Stephen says second grade rules.
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