Paul's Journey with ADHD

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11/24/2024

Walking like a boss! We're flying high now that we're able to take walks!

11/21/2024

We almost lost the Christmas tree once, but overall, tonight has been a huge success!

Cookie is an amazing dog!  She is so patient with Paul and she's very obedient.  She's still learning to walk on a leash...
11/20/2024

Cookie is an amazing dog! She is so patient with Paul and she's very obedient. She's still learning to walk on a leash, as she pulls a bit. She's a big dog, and strong, and needs plenty of exercise. I've been taking her for walks, which she loves.

Yesterday, however, was a very tough Paul day; he was extremely defiant and accident prone, spilling milk, and leaving a mess in his wake. I was tired after putting him to bed, but still needed to walk Cookie. I figured that the sidewalks in Douglas would be an easier route than the dimly lit Township roads.

We started our walk after dark. She pulled, I corrected "Cookie." She followed a noise, I corrected "Cookie". The night grew darker, my volume increased, my exhaustion grew, the intensity of my verbal correction became sharper. "Cookie!"

We did it. I wore her out, and she wore me out.

This morning, however, I thought about those people whom may have witnessed such a site, a sweatpants laden, middle aged woman, strolling the streets of town while shouting for cookies! 😂🤣😂🤣

It's Friday night and I just settled in for the night.  To say it's been a busy week would be an understatement, but I'm...
11/02/2024

It's Friday night and I just settled in for the night. To say it's been a busy week would be an understatement, but I'm managing and life is good.

The dust has settled on the BIGGEST news of the week and I feel confident in sharing that PAUL HAS FOUND HIS SERVICE DOG!!!!!

Friends, please meet Cookie!!!!

Cookie is a stray at Wishbone Pet Rescue Partnered with Allegan Shelter. As I mentioned in a previous post, I was prepared to travel cross country for the right dog; it's honestly a miracle that I've found one in our county! Cookie is a Labrador Retriever. She's estimated to be about 4-years old and weighs in at a sturdy 80+ lbs. She knows her basic commands, such as sit and stay and paw, and she's house broken! She's passed a number of tests presented by the trainer and everyone involved is confident that she can do the tasks that will someday be asked of her.

In anticipation of finding Cookie, I've been selling Paul's paintings in my store. He has a variety of sizes and I've been asking $30 each. I consider his sales a HUGE success, as he's raised $1600!!!!!!

With the $1600 raised, we can pay the fee to adopt Cookie. We've purchased a kennel, a travel crate, a harness with patches, a leash, dog bowls, and a month of Farmers dog. Paul's also picked up a couple treats for Cookie.

I chatted with the Shelter today and we're approved to adopt! We will bring Cookie home on Wednesday. WEDNESDAY!!!!! At which time we'll begin taking Cookie on long walks to burn off energy from being in the shelter; we'll run in the backyard and begin to really get to know each other.

We'll also be enrolled in hands on training to ensure that Cookie will be a successful service dog! The tainer will work with us on nearly a daily basis. He will teach us the proper steps to ensure that Cookie bonds with Paul. It will be a lengthy process, and expensive.

If you recall, Paul has ADHD with developmental delays. He's been diagnosed with childhood epilepsy and cyclical vomiting syndrome and migraines. He has speech delays and is wobbley on his feet. That said, he is verbal and can communicate. He can run and jump and play. He's very kind an extremely empathetic, but he doesn't always know his own strength. My hope is that Cookie will help with the following:

1. Companionship - Paul doesn't like to be alone and has difficulty with independent play.
2. Sleep - Paul doesn't sleep alone very well, in fact, he doesn't sleep well at all.
3. Impulse control - Paul has trouble with impulsive behavior and is easily distracted.
4. Running - Paul can be a runner, although to his credit he is getting much better at not running too far out of sight.
5. Stability - Paul can get wobbley on his feet and lose balance, especially when he's tired. He's getting leg braces next week, which was another process altogether!
6. Independence in public - I worry about sending him to a public restroom alone, both for his safety and because of distractions. Similarly, there's a number of places that within a few years, will be fairly inappropriate for a mother to be.
7. Awareness - I'm hoping by having a dog with a badge, I won't need to explain to people that Paul is delayed and often acts inappropriately in situations.
8. Fits - Paul is prone to emotional meltdowns and fits.
9. Fears - Paul is afraid of unknown and does not do well out of routine; his fears of animals, bugs, etc, seems to be growing as well.
10. Paul is easily overwhelmed by loud noises, bright lights, crowds, etc, resulting in lay down on the ground tantrums and/or screaming.

Paul attends an intensive special education program at School and has a great team of staff, including a speech teacher, physical therapist, occupational therapist, etc. He shares several traits with an autism diagnosis, however he is not autistic. Neither his teacher nor I believe that Cookie needs to attend school with Paul, but field trips may be a different matter!

Paul became afraid of dogs this past fall because a dog in the neighborhood ran at him. Because of his fear, we recently adopted a 15 year old, 14 lb dog, which has definitely helped him process the event. We're working on manners and how to treat dogs. It's been a blessing, but I can also clearly see that a "family dog" is not enough and that Paul needs much more. Paul absolutely needs Cookie as a service dog.

What does this all mean? It means that we're moving towards our goal! It means that, thanks to you and your support, we have Cookie and everything she needs. It means that I may get a bit of "me time"! It also means that the next year or so will require considerable "me time" to ensure that the training happens. It means dedication and expense. It means I'm looking at roughly $500 per week over the course of the next few months. It means, I am looking at a few fundraising activities!!!! (It's very likely that proper training could run nearly $10,000)

Along with fundraising, I am looking forward to hosting an event in the Spring with BOTH Paul & Cookie in attendance!!!! I want to host an event thanking everyone for your support! And I would love for you to meet my sweet Paul 🥰.

Thank you my friends. Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Holidays are hard.It's hard to understand the concept of time, of hours and days and weeks.  It's hard to understand tra...
10/16/2024

Holidays are hard.

It's hard to understand the concept of time, of hours and days and weeks. It's hard to understand traditions. It's hard to sleep with the anticipation, the excitement of the festivities, the break in routine.

It's hard to listen when you're overstimulated. It's hard to calm down when others are excited.

He doesn't understand why he can't squeeze in a tight spot, obviously meant for toddlers. He can't slow his run, when he's outside and overwhelmed. Corn maizes are out of the question. Haunted houses, absolutely not.

I can go over the details until I'm blue in the face. I can coex and remind and beg for good behavior, but it means nothing. There is zero impulse control.

This weekend was pumpkin weekend. Which meant running and smacking 1000 pumpkins sitting in a field. It meant tossing one's body on the ground and flailing when he couldn't ride the tractor. It meant screaming in a crowd, because he's outside and he's allowed to yell outside. It meant that we had to immediately carve the pumpkins, and not caring that I said no, or couldn't find our carving knives.

We skip trick or treating. There's no way. It's just not logistical, no matter how I spin it. He can't have the sweets anyways, so he and I make other traditions. We binge watched Adams Family movies all month, decorate the house with things he can touch and move, and set up inflatable ghosts in the yard. I'm grateful his school skips Holidays. It's just too much.

Still weeks to go in October. He wants to know what's next. He's making his Christmas list and could care less that he already has the things he's asking for.

His mind wakes him up at 2:00 am, racing with enthusiasm, his body jumps into action, there's no returning to rest. His teacher notices the drama, because by the time afternoon rolls in, Paul's exhausted. She understands, it doesn't make it better.

6:00 pm bedtime tonight. Fingers crossed he gets a full night sleep. Prayers he listens tomorrow.

"Paul, this is dinner, after dinner it's bath time, then bed."Ah, what could be such a sweet bedtime routine morphs into...
10/07/2024

"Paul, this is dinner, after dinner it's bath time, then bed."

Ah, what could be such a sweet bedtime routine morphs into a WWE cage fight between Andre the Giant and Hulk Hogan. He hates his house and wants another. He's trying the running away trick! I recall the one and only time Abigail pulled this card; she quickly regretted it. I ponder if Paul will retreat.

"Okay," I calmly reply, "talk to your teacher tomorrow and she'll put you in touch with someone who can help you."

* deer in the headlight *

"What" he screeches to a halt.

"Yes, tomorrow please let your teacher know that you're unhappy in your home and she'll arrange for you to talk to a police officer, who can drive you to a new home."

A stutter, a "well", he searches for words.

He decides he DOES love his house! He can't leave his sister, his grandparents would miss him, he has so many toys, maybe he just wants a new mom. A new fat mom, he chimes; he is poking at the Hulk.

"Deal. Let your teacher know. So, I guess you better hurry to bed so you can fall asleep and tomorrow will come quicker."

"FINE!"

He begrudgingly crawls into bed, still muttering about his new fat mom. I stand by his bed and instruct him to cover up. He's confused, so I remind him that temporary moms do not tuck kids into bed, or cuddle, or scratch backs, etc. I encourage him to request a mom who does such things. Andre is showing signs of fatigue, he struggles to keep up. I turn off the light and close the door.

Don't think this cage match is over yet! I hear my gentle Giant kicking his bed. I'm hyped up, I climb the railing, ready for the smack down! I open the door and inquire about the poor choice. He declares that he hates his bed. Checkmate.

"Then get up" my words come calmly, but in my head I've ripped my shirt and flexed my biceps. "Get up now."

Surprisingly he listens. He's likely stunned from the setup.

"Now, lay down and go to sleep. You don't like your bed, fine, don't sleep in your bed." I prompt him to lay in the middle of his floor.

The crowd is on their feet. It's the title match. Who's going to claim the belt, the WWE title belt!

Mere seconds pass. Andre pulls his body from the floor and sheepishly crawls back to bed. Then, I hear it, the bell, the words, "I'm sorry mom".

And the crowd goes wild!!! The Hulk has done it again! He is the heavyweight champ, the golden glove, the beltwinner.

I lay down and go in for a hug, which is gladly reciprocated. "I love you kid, but wow, poor choices!" I rub his back, his body calms, the press asks me to pose for a photograph. The snoring has already set in, overcoming the excitement from he fight. He's exhausted, he sleeps; I'm exhausted, I begin to plan for the rematch...

"Mom!""What Paul" Pick up from school was good; he had a great day, so claims his teacher.  He sat in the regular fourth...
09/17/2024

"Mom!"
"What Paul"

Pick up from school was good; he had a great day, so claims his teacher. He sat in the regular fourth grade today for some time. He's doing really well with his math!

"Mom!"
"What Paul? When you say 'mom' and I answer, you need to tell me what"

The drive home was decent. It was just Paul and I, plenty of time to express whatever is on his mind. He can't recall what he did at school. He wonders where his sister is, and her new dog T-Rex. I ask him a couple more questions to prompt conversation, but am confronted with silence. I accept it, and we casually make our way home.

"MOM, ma!"
"Paul, what is it"

The phone rings, chaos, I hit the button sending the call to voicemail, knowing full well that there's no way I can talk with an energized ten year old. It happens often, the normal things get pushed off. I sigh and try not to think about it.

"Mom"
"Paul Michael enough! I answer every single time you say 'mom', you have my full attention. What!?"
"MOM, ummmm"

Distraction.

We head outside to pick tomatoes and work out some pent up energy. His energy only, my energy has been long spent. Check on the chickens, dig a bit in the dirt, run, swing, I think it's only been 3 minutes, he's hungry for dinner.

Grocery day! My cupboards are quickly ransacked and emptied.

"Mom"
I choose to ignore the prompt.

I make a frozen pizza and warm up a veggie. It's Monday, oh wait, it's Tuesday. Abby's away for the night and I have a feeling my date won't complain about the absence of a "real" dinner. I'm wrong, he wants TWO pizzas because he's really, really, really hungry.

"MOM, look"
He's already gone; I don't have a clue what I'm supposed to look at.

Another call, another voicemail.

"Mom"
The night continues.

He grazes and paints and catches a few episodes of Bob Ross. He makes sure that I'm watching. I start his shower and remind him that he can still have a long night ahead of him if he listens.

"Paul, Paul Michael, kid! Listen please!"
He stomps upstairs. I glance at his wake of food and wrappers, puzzles, paints, and clothes. I swallow my words, knowing that it will really only take me minutes to clean up. I laugh under my breath at the insistence that he cleans up after himself; he does a bit, but can't seem to do it all. I step in to grab his pajamas.

CRASH

I know the sound as it's happening. I'm holding my breath and am simultaneously grateful that I don't hear a heavy thud. Silence.

The original framed artwork fell a story and a half, spewing miniscule pieces of glass down steps and across the family room floor, tossing pieces into Abby's room for good measure; discriminating not, between surfaces, but spreading it's crystals across carpet, toys, fabric, and concrete alike.

The phone rings.
"MOM, MOM, it just fell. Mom..."

"Please get in the shower"

"MOM, I'll help. Mom, is it lots of pieces. Mom, mom, mom, mom"

"Please get in the shower."

My patience is shattered, by blood pressure begins to rise, but I try keepingthe volume of my voice regular and consistent. The shower overflows, I'm picking up shards of glass. My phone rings. My son continues to shout.

The glass is picked up and vacuumed. I glance at the clock, 6:00. I think of how nice it would be to cuddle and read a book or watch a movie. The thought is gone as soon as I hear a box of toys waltz across his bedroom floor.

We're out of strawberry jam, I forgot it, I make a mental shopping list of the other forgotten tems.

"Mom"
"What"

It starts again.

I sit and stare for 20 minutes. I make mental lists, I study his play, I don't leave the door, knowing how close he is to having his breakdown. I imagine a night where I simply hear "okay mom".

"Mom"
"Please clean up your toys. It's easy. They all go in one bucket."

Another 20 minutes, this time full of stomping and grunting and fits. We yell. I know I'm the mom, I know to stop, I continue.

"Just listen! I don't ask hard things, just listen please!!!"

Finally, the bedroom is clean and the bathroom routine is complete and we're in bed.

The spasms begin, the twitches, the uncontrollable kicks and noises. I pray. I'm frustrated. He rubs his eyes. He smacks his gums and grimaces. He yawns. The twitches continue. I bite my tongue, but routinely ask him to relax his brain and slow down.

"Mom, what day is it? Is tomorrow a school day? Is the glass all gone?"
"Please turn it off kid, it's bedtime."

Another several minutes. I need a shower. I don't think I like being a mom tonight.

"Paul, please stop kicking"

He slows.

7:34

The phone rings.

Lately I've felt more like Templeton than Charlotte; my brain feels like it's in a haze from the past few weeks and I am...
09/13/2024

Lately I've felt more like Templeton than Charlotte; my brain feels like it's in a haze from the past few weeks and I am struggling to find balance.

It's hard to believe that summer is over and school is back in session. My kids love school, which makes life easy, and the Neuens trio certainly doesn't mind a routine. But I'm still playing catch up!

Catch up from hatching chicken eggs and adding three baby chicks to our flock. Catch up from chasing hawks from our coop! Catch up from Bob Ross and a dining room covered in paint. Catch up from doctors appointments and drivers training and work schedules. Catch up from growing and maturing kids with a lot to say and even more to learn.

We're very happy to have found a trainer who is helping us find a service dog for Paul! He is extremely knowledgeable and can tune out my high, nervous energy and instead tune in to what Paul needs. I'm at peace knowing we're on the right path, but I'm anxious.

In the meantime, Abby adopted her own "Service Dog" in the form of a 14-year old mut with the established name "T-Rex Wags His Tail". Seriously? It was meant to be! Paul had an increasing fear of what a service dog would "do" to him, if it would be mean and force him to listen; he was afraid of being bitten. So, Abby and I had the brilliant idea that she would have a service dog and remind him of the joys of having a dog. Well, it worked! T-Rex is now a welcomed addition to our Homestead, and is considered our $50 service dog vs $15k service dog. We love him; he's so well behaved! It is, however, a reminder of why Paul needs the whole package, though, and not just a family dog.

Work has picked up considerably, which I'm grateful for, but I've always struggled with making time for myself. It's time to vacuum my car, get a haircut, and pick out an autumn wardrobe. It's time to schedule an hour and play that Nintendo game I bought for myself all those years ago! It's time to nap in the sun, or stroll on a trail without having to hustle and run. It's time to self reflect and exhale. I'm kinda exhausted!

Today, I have one kiddo in school and one at home in bed. Today, the laundry is going and dinner will be simple. Today, I'm spending some time drinking coffee and writing lists. Today, I'm starting to exhale.

Ah, sweet sweet summer heat has returned, and it forgot to bring any breeze whatsoever. Last night Paul decided he neede...
08/25/2024

Ah, sweet sweet summer heat has returned, and it forgot to bring any breeze whatsoever.

Last night Paul decided he needed to go to ODC Network's Outdoor Discovery Center because it's been too long; he really needed to check on the one eyed Owl and see if anyone brought in a bird with a long neck and white feathers. (I can't always keep up with the thought process and do not have a clue about the white bird.)

I told him if he listened, tomorrow afternoon we would go to ODC to check his Owl.

This morning was humid, this afternoon worse. But the rhythmic requests from my Paul flowed from his lips without pause. Compassion overrode logic, and I was regretting the nod of affirmation while I was still nodding.

I filled our water bottles and he and I set off. Our heavy gate was the only noise; even the animals hid from the heat. Today, of all days, he grasped my hand in his. Sweat poured from our bodies as his grip tightened. We walked to the Birds of Prey enclosure, pausing periodically to rehydrate. Just outside the gate, however, he changed his mind about his Owl friend. He looked for reassurance that it had water, then decided against going in, because he wasn't ready to interact with the bald eagle.

So, we walked on.

We made it to the farthest point from our car.

He dropped my hand.

And proclaimed.

How about a little RUN TIME???

And he was off!

Panic set it. I tried keeping up, but i think it would have been impossible even in my 120lb prime, add 30 years and a bill and there was no chance. He would run, then return in rapid circling motions making sure that I was having as much fun as he was, then he was off again.

I pictured what would happen if he disappeared from my gaze, I imagined a drone or multiple drones. I thought that the next time, I would tie a balloon to his arm or attach a bike flag to his back. I was not too worried, because he gets nervous when I'm out of sight. I started picturing GPS systems in my head, curious about sewing one into his shoe, but deciding maybe I'm the one who required the GPS, so emt could find me in the middle of the trails.

We wound our way back to the entrance. He knows the way. He listened as I coersed him to have a drink of water; he didn't listen when I told him the raccoon couldn't be seen today because it's Sunday.

Scream. High kicks. Punch the air. Is that an attempt at swearing?

We made it to the car. I flipped on the AC and exhaled.

He's hungry now. He is sorry he missed the one eyed owl.

Paul started the fourth grade this week.  It's been a surprisingly good week, with a few meltdowns, but nothing too terr...
08/23/2024

Paul started the fourth grade this week. It's been a surprisingly good week, with a few meltdowns, but nothing too terrible. He's testing his teacher again (same teacher as last year), but will likely fall into line soon enough, after he remembers who is boss.

I'm still trying to give him a bit more independence. I'm trying to trust that he'll make a good choice. Every few months I attempt to distance the space between him and I, hoping he'll play in his room or use the bathroom with the door closed. Every few months he quickly loses his independence, either by flushing toys or pushing out his window screen and emptying his dresser; the last time, which was just a few weeks ago, I found him watching the Chucky movies, while eating potato chips in my bed.

* sigh *

Fourth grade, 10 years old, it's time to retest the independence. This time, however, he only made it a few minutes before I discovered the reason behind his silent play upstairs.

This time, he was in my room, playing with Jackson.

Or, to clarify, Jackson, our deceased dog.

I tried not to lose my temper and muttered something about playing catch with his dad, whose urn is right next to Jackson's.

"What?" He asked

"What?" I responded

This weekend, zero independent play. This weekend, he's playing outside.

Exactly one week until Paul is back to school. Emotions are on overdrive, so much to process, in addition to returning t...
08/14/2024

Exactly one week until Paul is back to school.

Emotions are on overdrive, so much to process, in addition to returning to school after summer break.

His sister is driving and has a job; she's out of the house more than she's home. It's healthy for her! It's exactly what a maturing teenager should be doing! Her younger shadow is trying to understand the additional time apart.

There's talk of a dog, however I've talked it back a bit, so he has time to picture a dog in his life. His anxiety grows as he imagines a dog "forcing" him to stay in his house. *sigh* Abby and I simply rethink our word choices and lead with examples and pictures and videos.

A back to school haircut has been looming, today we took the plunge. Jittery excitement flowed from his muscular frame as he tried so very hard to sit still. Thank goodness we found his perfect hairdresser! Three hours post cut, he finally looks in the mirror, fearing early baldness, and is delighted to see that he looks like Percy Jackson! I smile at the simile, elated that it's a more mature reference than blues clues or curious george.

New clothes, will they scratch his sensitive skin? Will he need help at school? Will he like the look, but still look age appropriate?

New shoes, he doesn't accept that he cannot wear his winter boots. Forget shoe laces. Yes, narrow feet. Arch support? Ankle support? Speciality? I add shoes to my list of things to chat with his physical therapist about.

New, new, new.

Tonight, he found a new hiding place. A hiding place that's only acceptable to him when I'm in the room, yet wildy hilarious because I can't catch him. I remind him there's no place that he's out of reach to me, although, he is, in fact, 100% out of reach to me. He's too heavy for me to simply slide and lift; removing a 10-year old from the floor isn't as easy as hoisting a toddler. I assess the situation; I give him time to grow bored with the joke. He slides out and I pounce. He giggles and wants to continue the new game.

An enjoyable new.

We fall into the same, old bedtime routine. I feel his body tension lighten. I scratch his ears, rub his back, tossel his hair. It takes an hour. It's predictable.

I love you kid. I sure do love you.

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