Poll Results: ADHD in the Home, School, and Community

The results of the last poll made sense, while also surprising me a bit. I asked you to tell me what setting was most difficult for your child; home, school, or community. Here are the results;

Home: This was negligible. Meaning, very few votes for home issues.

School and Community: Tied. They are of equal concern for you and your child.

What does this mean? It could mean a lot of things, and I welcome you to let me know what it means to you, in your comments below. School is the main social community your child has. Their success in that setting is not only beneficial to your child, but it's beneficial to you. Nobody likes those calls from the teacher, or worse, the principal!

Taking your child out into the community can be difficult. That's the place where you're judged the most. By community, I mean any group you are a part of that's outside of school and home. So, it could be your brother-in-law's house, or it could be the county fair. People in the community don't know your child as well as you do. They don't know, or even care to know...your child's story, his history. And all of that leads to the judgmental attitude we all cringe at.

As I move forward with my memoir, Running in Circles, as well as the ADHD Guidebooks for Parents, this information is important. The first guidebook, the school edition, which has tips, hints, and hope, for parents of kids with AD/HD, will be published just in time for the 2013/14 school year.

You'll see that there is a new poll up now. I appreciate your input. And please share the poll with your friends. The more information I collect, the better.

Thanks so much! ~Karen

ADHD: Is there hope for my son?

Recently, someone commented right here on my blog. She wanted to know how my son is doing right now. I've heard the question before. The parent may change. The situation may change slightly. But I think I know exactly why a parent would ask this. Why? Because I've been there. And I know that the question is loaded; the real question is, "Is there hope for my child? Well, to understand where my son is today, at age 18, you have to get a picture of him as a young boy.

William is my third child, so I had two children to compare him to. He was never like his siblings at all. He climbed out of his crib before he could even stand. He ran before he walked, and his sense of independence was fierce. In short, he was a very difficult child. He had no filter when it came to what he thought about doing and what he did. Our family quit going out in public. We quit going to restaurants where he'd bang silverware and talk loudly. My husband and I took turns guarding him (aka staying home with him), rather than go to something as simple as the grocery store with him.

When we had company over, we were mortified at his behavior. We got used to things being broken by him, his constant running and jumping and generally moving about as if he was one of the Energizer Bunnies. One thing I want to add here is that my William was never mean. People often equate being angry or mean with ADHD. I don't believe that. William didn't mean to get into trouble, and in fact was often baffled when he was reprimanded. His lack of impulse control might have caused him to impulsively do something - but it was never with the intention of hurting someone.

Knowing that this was her last grandchild, my wonderfully loving and compassionate mother said she felt she'd been robbed of her last grandchild. She acknowledged that she felt like William wouldn't be able to overcome this - that he could never succeed in life - unless some miracle happened. It hurt to hear that, but I had to accept that I too had had those thoughts.

Channel ADHD energy into sports.

Fast forward to today and you'll see a very different young man. He still has ADHD. But he doesn't bounce off walls, doesn't run and jump 24-7, and many of the other traits of ADHD are now hidden. He plays sports - namely football. In sports, he can channel his energy into something physical that he loves, and this in turn has helped him to develop impulse control.  After a short time on meds when he was learning to read, he hasn't been on meds again until this year. It was his decision to go on them, and he's amazed at how "normal" (his words) he feels. He went from a low "C" GPA to almost a "B" GPA. He has applied to colleges and hopes to walk-on as a punter for the football team. He wants to be a teacher and high school level coach. He has a good group of friends who do things like play ultimate frisbee after school. He works out at the gym, doing High Intensity Training (HIT) nearly every day. He still isn't crazy about sitting down to watch T.V. or anything like that, but has found that video games are an awful lot of fun. About half of his teachers don't even recognize that he has ADHD, but that depends on the teacher and subject.

So, how did we get to this point? I think it was a combination of several things, and I plan to share those in the coming months. But the short version is this; we worked with William and his teachers/coaches constantly. We taught him the skills he needed to know and reinforced them regularly. We put him in activities that encouraged him to use his ADHD skills in an appropriate manner. We used medication sparingly and only when we saw a purpose for it - we also realized that without the medication, our very bright child may only be able to pull B's and C's. It was a trade-off. We enlisted the help of our close family and friends. And as he has gotten older, we've worked to transition him to advocating his needs on his own And the list goes on.

Bottom line is this; in answer to the question that started this post, yes - there is hope. What you see when your child is 6 or 8 or 10 is not what will define their future. In fact, I think that children with AD/HD have more potential to change than typically developing children. Many of the traits that drive us crazy when they're young, are traits that are positive and powerful as teens and adults. That child who wouldn't give up on a locked door until he figured it out, is now persistent in his studies. He doesn't take no for an answer.

Yes, there is hope. There is always hope! As parents, sometimes we're just trying to make it through the next day, the next hour, or minute. But try to always keep the future in mind. Your goal is to raise a well-adjusted and successful child. If you can make that your focus, your child will follow suit.

My Best, Karen

ADHD Poll Thank you

For those of you who have taken the poll, thank you, THANK YOU! As I write this, school issues are your biggest concern. School and community were tied for a while and have been neck-n-neck the whole time.

So, what am I going to do with the results? The results will help me address the issues that are of most concern to you, both in my blog posts, and in the guidebooks I'm working on. My goal with everything I do, as it pertains to Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder, is to spread hope. I believe that when we know - we do.

I'll share more when the time frame of the poll comes to an end. But I didn't want to wait to thank you. ~Karen

Introduction: Outside the Cookie Cutter

My memoir, RUNNING IN CIRCLES: CONFESSIONS OF A PERF3CT MOTHER is nearly finished. The rough draft, that is. I created this blog with the memoir in mind. Truth is, my son is 18 now and I feel like I can finally hide behind a tree, catching my breath. We made it! It's something that - when he was a little boy who ran in circles around me, and climbed everything in sight - I was unsure would happen. His future was something I fretted over. How can one possibly have a successful future if they can't hold still long enough to attend to the present?

Some of the best stuff is outside the cookie cutter.

But we made it.

My memoir begins with a moment in time when I realized I was a complete failure as a parent. My son's hand in one hand, and a prescription in the other, I'd failed. Or at least that's what I believed at the time.

The story takes you through the crazy (humorous) things I did to try to maintain my perfect parenting style, and the slow revelation that it was more important to be the parent William needed than a general parent who obsessed over what other parents were doing. My William didn't fit in the cookie cutter. But guess what? There's a lot of really great stuff outside the cookie cutter.

As I participate in forums and chats with other parents, an idea has been forming in my head. I want to help parents like me navigate the often frustrating, sometimes humorous, and always rewarding path of raising a child with Attention Deficit (Hyperactivity) Disorder. To accomplish this, I'm building my website/blog with you in mind. I want to know your thoughts. I want you to ask me questions. My promise to you is this - I cannot be stumped. There is an answer to even your most difficult situation with your child. And I will help you find it! I promise!

What gives me that kind of confidence? I'm not just a parent of a child with ADHD. I also taught them for many years as a special education teacher. I taught children in the public education system who, because of their behavior weren't able to access their education in the regular classroom setting. I helped to create and found a program for children with behavior problems. I worked with children with ADHD and other disabilities for more than 15 years. So, you see, I have it from all directions. And let me tell you something - raising a child with ADHD is much more difficult than teaching a whole classroom full of them. That said, I am in a unique position to be able to help on many levels and in many situations.

So, this is my invitation to you. Come along with me and let's work together to make a bright and beautiful future for our challenging children. Together, we can do this! Karen Fisher-Alaniz

Child First - ADHD Second

Your child comes home from school with a little envelope. He can't wait to show you what's inside. But you already know - his bouncy disposition speaks volumes.

Birthday Party.

Ah, the joys of birthday parties!

For parents of a child with ADHD, those two words send a shiver of dread down our spines. While other parents look forward to dropping their little darling off in their Sunday best, a brightly wrapped package in their arms, we feel no such joy.

No, our experience will be different. We'll be careful that our child doesn't eat or drink sugar before he goes. We'll struggle to get him into his birthday best, and then struggle even more to keep him from spoiling it with stains before we leave. And no matter how late we dress him, this always happens. We make sure that the present he gives isn't something he loves himself - the last time we did this, he threw a fit until the birthday boy's mother made her son share the coveted toy. And the present must be something that isn't in the least bit fragile, because by the time he makes it to the front door, it will have been tossed in the air several times, and caught only a few.

As parents drop off their squeaky clean youngsters, you'll linger, trying to decide whether to tell Mommy that your boy can be, "quite a handful." You'll stay at the party with him to put out any fires he starts - figuratively speaking - but literal fires are always a possibility too. Mommy will probably insist that, "He'll be fine." She clearly doesn't know your child.

Now, let me tell you about a personal "Aha!" moment that happened at one such birthday party;

Caleb was about seven. I watched with an eagle eye, through the games, the cake, candy and punch, through the present-opening and playing outside on the swing set. I intervened when he seemed to be getting too wound up, when he grabbed another boy by the jacket and swung him around like ball on a tether. I reminded him how to ask nicely for a second cup of punch. When Mommy attempted polite conversation, I was distracted, afraid I'd miss something my son would surely do. I looked at my watch. It was almost time for the party to be over. We'd almost made it. Then the unruly bunch decided to play one more round of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey.

Each child got a chance to be blindfolded and spun around by another child, before being aimed at the plastic donkey, plastic donkey tail in their hand. When it was Caleb's turn to spin his friend, the group counted the spins as usual...1...2...3... That should have been the end. But Caleb kept going, 4...5...6...7... Before I could intervene, the little boy was so dizzy he couldn't stand. "Caleb," I scolded. "That's not how you play the game." I helped the little boy up and pointed him toward the donkey, then stayed close to Caleb for a moment before backing off.

Mommy came to stand by me. "He really is fine, you know."

I nodded politely. Obviously she was delusional.

Then something happened.

I watched as time after time, the little boys copied Caleb's version of the game, spinning each child until they were dizzy and crawling on the floor...laughing hysterically. I couldn't help but smile. I looked at Mommy and we started to laugh. The boys were having more fun rolling around on the floor than playing the game. Pure joy-filled fun!

Mommy elbowed me gently. "Boys..." she laughed. "What're you gonna do?"

Maybe she wasn't so delusional after all. 

For the remainder of the party, I stepped outside of my parent-of-a-kid-with-ADHD role. I took in the whole scene. Caleb wasn't all that different from the other little boys. They were all wound up and a little too rowdy. But in this moment, in this setting, he was absolutely normal. He was a seven year old boy and he was acting like every other boy at that party.

I learned something that day that I would revisit many, many times over the next several years. Since his diagnosis, I'd forgotten how to see my son as a little boy. Life with Caleb had been so difficult and so very different than his siblings, that the focus had become the diagnosis, and not the child. He still had Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, and there were behaviors associated with that. But from that day on, I changed my thought process. My son was a child first, and a child with ADHD second.

He is a teenager now and I still use the same mantra; Child First - ADHD Second. God knows it's just as relevant as a teenager as it was when he was seven.

So, what do you think? Have you had similar experiences? How do you decide when to intervene and when to back off?

ADHD at School: The best classroom for my son!

I was teaching at the same elementary school that my son was attending. Due to ADHD, he was struggling in the classroom, on the playground, in the cafeteria - pretty much anywhere he went. I was teaching special education, so I spent the majority of my time in my classroom with "my" kids...aka: I didn't get out much.

The school was three stories with grades K-1 on the first story, grades 2-4 on the second story, and 5th grades on the third. Well, one afternoon, I was walking down the hallway of the 2nd story and passed by a classroom. I glanced in to see a small classroom of kids. The classroom was noisier than others. Something about it made me turn around and go back for another look.

I stood a few feet from the door, watching. The kids were all at a long table, rather than desks. They sat on stools instead of chairs. Some were standing. It looked pretty laid back. Students were working together on a project; some looking in microscopes, others using colored cubes to make designs of some sort, and still others were writing on poster board. They were all engaged in whatever it was they were doing. They were talking, sometimes loudly. I stepped to the side a bit, to try to see just who the teacher was. I hadn't seen him before. He had on blue jeans, an untucked dress shirt and a bow tie. His hair was spiked down the middle. He wasn't lecturing from the front of the room; in fact I wasn't sure where the front was. He was simply circulating. He patted kids on the back, gave high-5's.

It was wonderful. I looked at the room number, and made a mental note to ask the principal about it.

That classroom was just what Caleb needed. it looked like every kid in there was free to learn at their own pace. Every learning style was addressed, not just the usual school norm of addressing only auditory learners. Caleb was a hands-on learner. He needed to touch, feel, manipulate things to learn. He needed to be able to move about and talk about his process.

I was so excited about this classroom. The kids looked a bit older than Caleb, so I hoped I hadn't missed the opportunity to request Caleb be in that room. Later that day, I carved out a few minutes and went into the principals office.

I described the classroom but she seemed to have no idea who I was talking about. Finally, I said, "Room 2-D?"

"Ooooh..." she said. "That's the gifted classroom."

Ironically, the classroom that looked perfect for my child was created for the smartest of the smart.

I've never forgotten that. Why? Because our school system was failing my child terribly. Because a solution was right there in his own school. And because my child would never have the opportunity to benefit from such a classroom. No, my child would continue his education,  in classrooms for children who learned best by being lectured at. What a travesty. What a disappointment. And shame on the schools for seeing a gifted child as one who benefits from such a structure, but never addressing who else it might benefit.

I am convinced that had my son been allowed to be in such a classroom, his educational experience would have been much different - much BETTER in fact, than the education he received. Has anything changed since then?

I doubt it.

If you could design a classroom for your child, what would it look like?

Still Running in Circles, Karen

ADHD: My Son Does Not Need Fixing!

I recently read on WebMd that if a mother-to-be smoked during pregnancy, her child was twice as likely to have ADHD. http://www.webmd.com/add-adhd/ss/slideshow-adhd-in-children So, what is a nonsmoking mother to think of that statistic? I don't know. So, as usual, I'm writing about it. Writing is how I think, how I process things.

My son has struggled all his life. He has lived in a body that just wouldn't stay still, a mind that wouldn't focus, and a brain that had no filter, forcing him to act without weighing consequences, if even for a moment.

His struggles affected me as a mother. I was at times embarrassed by his behavior, saddened that he couldn't have it easier, and frustrated when all of my efforts seemed in vain. His struggles effected my life, my marriage, and my other children.

I could go on and on.

But when I read a statistic like the one above, my first thought isn't "shame on that parent" for smoking during pregnancy. In fact, that isn't even in my first ten in a list of reactions. What is? Well, even with all the struggles, I maintain that ADHD is more of a problem for society than it is for my son.

Most of the time, the attitude I carry with me is that there is nothing wrong with my son. I mean, who is to say that the little boy who sits in the front of the class, quietly complying with every one of his teacher's directions, is the normal one. In fact, that's a little abnormal, as far as I'm concerned. I fought long and hard to finally get to the bottom of what made my son struggle so. The diagnosis was a relief. But I can't say it helped all that much.

As a mother who loves her child fiercely, I can't think of him as a broken radio that just needs to be fixed. No. My son doesn't need fixing. What he needs is to be seen as a person with a list of personality traits, just like everyone else. What he needs is a dose of compassion and a pat on the back for everything that he is and everything he aspires to be. What he needs is what every child needs; no more, no less.

That's my thought for the day. ~Karen