And now the other kid

For months - since our first parent teacher interview back in November - Hammad's teacher has been at me to get him tested for ADD.  Not ADHD like Hassaan has, but ADD.  I kept saying that no, there's not a problem, he's just a little spacey and doesn't like to do things that don't interest him, as well as this darned perfectionist streak that he's got.  But then today Abdullah and I got to sit in on his class to watch him do his speech (on his visite de conservatoire de papillon).  Hammad was third up.  So we got to observe him as well.  The wonderful thing about being six is that you don't always realize when people are watching you just to watch you.  And what I saw has me stepping back and changing my tune.

"Space cadet" does not even cover it.  Hammad is a very smart, very creative little boy who is becoming more and more obviously off in his own planet, to the point that his teacher doesn't have anything to evaluate for report cards. So now, we contact the doctor and get him evaluated as well.  If (big IF) he is on the ADD scale, it would be closer to the type that I have been diagnosed with - inattentive ADD.

On one hand, if he does have it, we can do something about him and give him the skills to succeed, the skills that I didn't have because I was repeatedly told I wasn't trying hard enough.  On the other, I really hope he doesn't have it, because two kids on the ADD/ADHD scale isn't my idea of a good time.

This is the face of ADHD

This is the face of ADHD.

This is Hassaan.

He is five and a half years old.

He is a smart, vibrant, loving little boy.

This is the face of ADHD.

When he's in a good mood, he's all cuddles and giggles.

When he's in a bad mood, it's like a monster inside has taken over.

That's when you have to remember that smart, loving little boy.

This is the face of ADHD.

The is the face of a child who says he's dumb, stupid and an idiot because he knows he's not like other kids.

This is the face of a child who says there are bees buzzing in his head and he can't stop them or himself sometimes.

This is the face of a little boy who's not dumb, but so smart he gave up adding numbers and started adding letters.

This is the face of ADHD.

This is Hassaan.

He is my son, my baby, and my heart.

He is what brings me the greatest joy and the greatest pain.

He is what I fight for when the world tells me that he's just being a brat or refuses the support I know he needs.

This is the face of ADHD.

What I want to be when I grow up.

Hassaan's school had a spirit day a couple of weeks ago.  It was "What I want to be when I group up Day".  Hassaan wants to be a veterinarian/worker man.  I told him to be the worker man to pay for vet school.  I borrowed a safety shirt from a friend at work, used literally about 30 safety pins to make it easier for him to wear (the sleeves alone are doubled up twice).  Used my old safety hard hat from work (when we were allowed to decorate them) and took his brother's old ankle boots and put duct tape (we're Canadian!  Duct tape is for EVERYTHING - so says Red Green!) on the toes to make them look like steel toed boots, borrowed a safety vest from my boss, and sent him off to school looking like this -

Tough Decisions

The hardest thing about Hassaan's diagnosis is what to do to help him.  Sometimes there's just nothing you can do except be there.  Other times you're called upon to advocate for your child, because if you don't, you know that no one else will.  Then there are the times where you come off looking, quite honestly and bluntly, like a bitch (or insane) because while your child looks normal you know he's not and the people that you're dealing with refuse to acknowledge that there's a problem or put the support in place necessary for him to succeed.  Fortunately for me, we live in a small enough community where this hasn't really been an issue.  And then there's the biggest part - what can I do to help my child like himself?  To help him succeed?  To help him be able to function in life in a positive manner where his behaviour doesn't immediately turn those around him against him?  

The first thing I've done to help him is be his advocate.  To put in place whatever it is that I can do to help him.  This includes working with his day camp co-ordinators to make sure that he had a buddy if necessary on his bad days last summer.  All I had to say to the co-ordinator was "Hassaan's having a bad day and needs someone with him" and it was done.  It also meant getting to know his group leaders well so that we could communicate with each other as to how the day had gone or how the morning before drop off had gone so they knew what they were in for, or so that they could pass on the message to whomever was picking up the boys at the end of the day so they knew what they were in for before I picked them up (usually my parents).  This communication can be invaluable on a bad day.  That way, you're prepared for whatever might be coming your way.  When you're not prepared and it has the appearance of coming out of left field, Hassaan's behaviour can lead you to have a negative reaction, which doesn't help the situation.

I have become an advocate for my son with the school system.  He has an awesome teacher this year who's very regimented in her routine, which for an ADHD child is wonderful.  She also takes care of any issues herself, within the classroom, so Hassaan has only spent one time in the office this year instead of the many he did last year.  I advocated for him to have this teacher this year (she was Hammad's teacher the last two years) and will advocate for whichever of the first grade teachers she also recommends for next year.

Harder, though, was trying to figure out the rest.  Finally, after much thought and prayer, last Wednesday we started Hassaan on drug therapy as well.  I've cried now because I wish we'd gone this route before.  My little boy is finally shining through the disorder.  Our house is not a war zone.  He no longer spends multiple moments a day calling himself dumb, stupid and idiot.  You can have a conversation with him and he can now pay attention.  Bedtime is no longer the major battle within the war.  He takes initiative now to do things like go and clean up the playroom.  The house is not in chaos.  Hassaan is now truly fun to be around.

This is not to say that there are still not bad days.  Or horrendous days.  Yesterday would qualify as the latter.   It was a bad day from start until nearly finish, though the last two hours of the day weren't so bad.  I had things thrown at me, scratched, kicked, hit, bit.  I had to do a modified bear hug on him to keep him from hurting me.  I was told I was stupid and an idiot.  I was also told "I hate you more than God!  I love God!  But I hate you more than God!"  Which went round and round until I finally stepped in and said "do you mean you hate me more than you love God?"  To which he screamed "YEAH!  THAT!!"  It took all I had not to laugh.  He was so far gone at that point there was just no quick solution.  Things started to be thrown when I placed him against the door and told him he couldn't move his bum from the door.  He slid to the floor and started pulling things out from under my dresser and throwing them at me.  Nothing actually hit me.  They just landed on the bed where I was folding socks.  The bright side to this is that the dresser that I really didn't fancy getting down on my hands and knees to clean out under was now clean underneath.  (You have to find a bright side somewhere!)  Later on, once he was calm, he was embarrassed.  But when he's that far gone, he can't stop himself and no one else can stop him either.  He remembers what he's done later, but during the rage, he's just not there.  

But you know what?  Those bad days are so much easier to handle now that they're not EVERY day.  The sweet little boy is able to completely shine through now - not just be a little glimpse of sunshine behind the clouds.

I am so confused

Typical school day conversation, all said by Hassaan (my response to all of them are generally "I don't care, you're going to school."):

- I hate school
- I'm not going to school
- I'm stupid
- I'm dumb
- I hate school.
- You can't make me go to school
- I hate school work
- School is bad
- School is mean
- I won't go to school.
- I hate school
- School is stupid
- I don't want to do work

So then, twice now, the second time being today, this has taken place either on the weekend or after school -

- I want homework
- If Hammad has homework I want homework.
- Where's my homework?
- I like school work!

The first time had actually had a massive temper tantrum when I told him that I was sorry, I did not have homework for him.  He sobbed, yelled that he hated me and then ran up to his room and cried for half an hour.  His teacher sent home photocopies of an old grade one math book for him to work on.  Happy little clam.

Today....today his brother finished the 10 sentence "speech" he has to give in a couple of weeks at school.  Hammad is writing it about our trip to the butterfly conservatory outside Niagara Falls, ON, last summer.  So Hassaan decided that HE was going to write a speech too.  He did a sentence and a half today and says he'll finish it tomorrow.

So far, it says:

J'aime des cheins.  Mon chein prefere est le dalmation parc qu'il a de....

Oh, and did I mention these speeches have to be in French?  Seeing as they're in French immersion?  So yes, my five year old "I hate school" son has decided that he must write a speech for school.

I am so confused.

New diagnosis

I came home today to a message my husband took that Hassaan's doctor had called.  After going through the tests so far he's now decided to relabel Hassaan from "severe ADHD with ODD" to "borderline ADHD with ODD."  Um...okay??  I really don't like this without discussion, but that will have to wait until our next appointment - March 10.

And so, we wait.  With a change in diagnosis.  But for now, I'm not changing my blog name.  Because for all I know, he'll change it again in March.  Frustrated much?

The Obsession

So you may have noticed a few new additions over there at the side of my blog.  You might have noticed one in particular, up towards the top.  You know the one I'm talking about.  Even if you don't want to admit you know, you know.  I'm sure you do.

I'm not sure when it started.  I'm not even sure how it started.  All I know is that Hassaan has an obsession.  This obsession, as well as other tendencies, has led his teacher, myself, and others to think that Hassaan might have Aspergers as well.  His obsession carries through everything in life, right down to his pillow.  Hassaan's obsession?

Dogs.  Hassaan LOVES dogs.  His pillow is a giant stuffed dog that is bigger than he is.  The dog's name is Rainbow.  The irony of the dog being named Rainbow?  Rainbow is a very plain, beige, dog with a black nose.  Not a rainbow on him.  Don't ask me why his name is Rainbow.  Don't even ask Hassaan, because every time he's asked the story is different.  Okay, ask him. And then ask him again in an hour.  It might give you a small bit of entertainment on a rainy afternoon.

Within our family, we also have Baby Fetch, Baby Bury, Daddy Dog, Bingo, Spot, Big Ears, Floppy, Icy, and literally about twenty five others whose names escape me because, quite frankly, I just don't care that much to know the names of about 30 stuffed dogs.  I love my son.  But I don't love him to the point of joining in his obsession.

Fourteen months ago, I caved in and - in a moment of a total, complete, and embarrassing loss of common sense - got the boys a puppy.  He was a rambunctious puppy - half pug, half Boston terrier.  I'm pretty sure there was a bit of kangaroo in there too.  The boys named him Fetch.  I had absolutely nothing - let me repeat: ab.so.frickin.lutely nothing - to do with  naming this dog.  Why do I make this clear?  Well, picture this.  Close your eyes.  No!  Wait!  Don't!  Because then you can't read this.  So figuratively close your eyes. You're standing in the driveway.  You're calling an absent minded puppy to come back.  You're chasing him through the back yard.  And what are you yelling this whole time?  "Fetch!  Come!  Fetch!  Sit!  FETCH!  STAY!"  I sounded like a moron.  But the boys loved Fetch.  And note that I have referred to Fetch totally in the past tense.

Nine months and three days after Fetch arrived at our home and just made the boys' hearts swell with pride, Fetch decided that chasing my father's car was a good thing to do.  He ran out into the road and was hit by a car coming up behind my father.  A neighbour a few doors down told me later that he knew it was bad by the type of scream coming from both Hassaan and Hammad.  I was at work.  I came home to a note on the door left by my husband (who was home for only the weekend) that just said "Fetch hit by car.  Call cell."  The next day, we had to put Fetch to sleep.  He had a spinal cord injury that left him unable to move one back leg and all and the other hind leg sometimes worked but mostly didn't.  We took the boys' to the vet's to say goodbye to him, and the poor puppy sat in my lap shaking, knowing something was desperately wrong, and there I was, two boys who were barely holding it together and all I wanted to do was fix it for them and I couldn't.

It's been just shy of five months since Fetch died, and every day Hassaan still talks about him.  For quite a long time Hassaan declared that he wanted to be dead because then he could be with Fetch.  The paediatrician told me that, at five years old, he wasn't concerned that Hassaan was actually suicidal because at that age they don't have the concept of the finality of death.  But it was still scary to hear your son talking like that.  And someone the absolutely ridiculous comes out of his mouth.  Like the night that he was fighting going to bed (again) and said he "couldn't wear pants because wearing pants reminded him of Fetch!"  It took every ounce of self control to wait til he'd gone up the stairs before I lost it laughing.

But dogs are Hassaan's obsession.  We have stuffed dogs, hard plastic model-type dogs, books on dogs, movies on dogs, clothes with pictures of dogs (that was just coincidence, not something I went looking for).  Heck, I even have a ringtone of dog barks on my phone just for Hassaan.

I'm pretty sure that if Hassaan could trade me in for a dog, he would.  And if he could trade in his brother for a dog, he'd be all over that deal!