Something Fishy Going On

I didn’t think I’d have to worry about things like discovering my child’s secret stash until the teenage years but just the other week we found Max’s pills under the couch.

His fish oil pills.

It had been a good three months or so since Max was on the stimulant that suppressed his appetite and prevented him from falling asleep at bedtime. The fish oil supplements continued to do a good job of managing his behaviors. That’s not to say we haven’t had our share of outbursts and difficult days – but no more that what we were dealing with when he was on the prescription medication.

I came to expect Max’s resistance at taking that spoonful of yogurt laced with Focalin every morning. But I thought that struggle was over. He didn’t complain about having to take the fish oil.

And then we discovered a stray pill in the family room. I figured Max must have dropped one and wasn’t able to find it. But when I found a couple of them under the couch, I knew it was no accident.

I asked Max if he had been hiding his pills and the grin on his face gave him away.

So mornings are back to being a struggle. I can no longer just hand him his four pills in his plastic Spiderman cup along with his morning milk and jump into the shower. Dave or I have to watch and make sure he takes them. It’s not that Max has trouble getting them down – the pills are very small in size.

I think it’s just the idea that he needs them that he finds hard to swallow.

A Blockbuster Idea

Just when I thought I could no longer be shocked by Max’s behavior he goes ahead and does something I never could have expected:

He organized our DVD collection.

I don’t know what possessed him, although I was impressed not only by his initiative but by his desire to actually organize something. Anything.

He pulled all the DVDs off of the tower and got started. Had I been the one to tackle the job I might have broken down the categories by Disney animation, live action, TV characters. Or I would have gone alphabetical. Max went with a different approach.

He started with the pirate category. An obvious choice given that eleven of our DVDs met this criteria. (If you don’t believe there are eleven pirate movies for kids, drop me an email and I’ll send you a list.)

In his animal section he put Finding Nemo, Stuart Little and Madagascar, among others. Shrek, Monsters, Inc and a couple of Elmo videos formed the creature collective. The hero section included Mulan, Rescue Heroes and Sky High while the spy section featured The Iron Giant, Spy Kids and The Incredibles. Why The Incredibles were considered spies and not heroes is beyond my 38-year-old imagination. It made sense to Max. Last came the princess section, otherwise known as all the stuff Ari loves but Max hates – Cinderella (I and II) and a couple of Barbie movies.

I don’t know how long his system will keep. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before someone goofs up and accidentally puts Lilo and Stitch in the creature section rather than it’s current location with the spy movies.

Like many films, it’s open to interpretation.

The Polite Person's Guide to Profanity

Max: Mom, I feel like I have to say the “d” word.

Me: You know what Max, you go right ahead.

Max: Damn it, damn it, damn it.

I figured after failing to pass the lice inspection at school this morning, having mayonnaise slathered on his head, being dragged out to get his hair cut even shorter and then learning he might miss his Tiger Cub meeting tonight that the kid had earned the right.

I know I had. Damn it.

Lice of Passage

Parents of special needs kids really only want one thing – that our kids be treated the same as anyone else.

And when the school office calls to tell you your kid has lice, you know he is, in fact, just like anyone else.

I spent most of today performing microsurgery – pulling out nits and lice from Max’s hair – while he sat in front of the TV. He was very patient throughout it all, despite getting antsy and needing to take breaks from sitting. Locating these buggers is pretty tough as it is; the process is made even harder when you’re removing them from a kid who has trouble sitting still.

I couldn’t help but wonder how much more difficult this whole experience might have been a few years back when Max’s sensory issues were more significant. I suspect he would have had trouble handling the sensation of the lice shampoo sitting on his head for ten minutes and the smell of the tea tree oil and eucalyptus I’ve been adding to his regular shampoo. When I think about the home remedy of putting mayonnaise on your scalp it’s enough to make me squirm.

But Max has been handling it like a real trooper. He’s been very cooperative. I chalk it up to his improved sensory input thanks to past occupational therapy, his increased flexibility and more even moods to the fish oil he’s taking (not to mention the help of Dr. I. that I’ve been taking) and his better understanding of things thanks simply to maturity.

But I’m sure his special all-access pass to our candy drawer might have something to do with it as well.

Food for Thought

The same kid who only eats white rice – never fried, wild or pilaf, lives on peanut butter sandwiches, and would choose for his basic food groups, if given the option, waffles, gummis, crackers and yogurt drinks, just sat down tonight to a dinner of salmon with dill and a side of asparagus.

Implosion

Max’s whole world came crashing down today.

Granted, it was just a few pieces from his Imaginext castles that fell off. Just a few well-positioned knights that lost their footing. But for a kid who spends hours carefully creating worlds occupied by knights, pirates and clone troopers from Star Wars…for a kid with a perfectionistic streak that borders on compulsion…for a kid who doesn’t handle frustration very well…it might as well have been his whole world.

My cleaning ladies had been over earlier in the day. And because Max’s bedroom floor was covered in toys, I told Iryna not to bother with his room. It was easier for me to handle a little extra dust than whatever rage I may face should Max’s play scenarios be disturbed.

When I arrived home at the end of the day with the kids, Max went to check out his room. And that’s when the screaming started.

His room had been cleaned. And in doing so, things got moved, ships were detoured, cannons were repositioned, turrets had collapsed.

Like his toy castles, Max fell apart.

The tears were real. His anguish, genuine. And I felt terrible. I specifically told him his room wouldn’t be disturbed. I wasn’t sure why it was. All I could think was that Iryna had forgotten to mention my request to the friend she works with.

Part of our job as parents is to know what sets our kids off, and, when possible, to try to steer around those things. Dave and I have spent years trying to detect – and sidestep -- the landmines that are Max’s temper tantrums. We’re not always successful. Nor are we always patient enough to stop and consider every little thing that happens every single day through a Max filter. When we’re able, every action is evaluated under these criteria: What kind of mood is Max in? How even has his disposition been today? Can he handle sitting in a restaurant for an hour/running two errands/picking up his toys/spending five minutes doing homework?

Fortunately for us, Max is able to control his frustration and manage his moods in just about any environment – except home. He has no trouble following the rules at school. He does what is asked of him in speech therapy. He is a happy and compliant participant on the soccer field, in swimming lessons, on the gymnastic equipment. He is perfectly well-behaved at his friends’ homes.

It is only in the safety of his own home that he falls apart. Maybe it is because he recognizes that he can’t control what happens out in the world, so he has no choice but to roll with the punches.

But within the walls of our home, there are certainties Max can depend on: A cup of milk and a chocolate chip waffle for breakfast. Time to watch Scooby Doo before school. His lime green bear by his side every night. And, when he makes the request, that his castles, skeleton pirates and assortment of Darth Vaders will be right where he left them.

I don’t think it’s too much to ask. I’m just sorry someone didn’t listen.