If They Would Just Parent

This article (http://www.cbsnews.com/news/kentucky-officer-handcuffed-mentally-disabled-kids-as-punishment-lawsuit-says/) is making the rounds on social media. It is all over my Facebook page and on every special needs/autism pages I visit. I've read the article, but can't bring myself to watch the accompanying video. It is too horrifying for me. I am shocked that this just keeps happening. Over and over and over again. From Special Ed teachers hanging kids upside down in garbage cans to kids being locked in "safe rooms" isolated alone for hours at a time. When will this stop? How is it that the children that need the most care and understanding seemingly receive the least.

I rarely do, but this time I shared the article on my personal FB feed with the comment that although I didn't know the specifics of this case, I couldn't think of a reason a 50 pound 8 year old would need to be handcuffed. Ever. Especially not one with special needs. It is just not appropriate. As you can imagine, I got comments. And not surprising, the ones that bother me the most are the ones that imply kids just need more guidance and discipline. If parents would do their job, this wouldn't be necessary.

I'm the first to admit that yes, there are unfortunately kids out there who are not being parented or disciplined. There could be any number of reasons for this and I try (now) not to judge. I'm sure it does make our educators jobs that much tougher. It's probably not easy to be a teacher. But lack of discipline is not always the reason for these behaviors.

I used to be one of those people who blamed poor behavior on lack of parenting and discipline. I'm ashamed to admit that I have judged numerous parents and deemed them unworthy, doing their kids a disservice. I used to not truly believe that ADHD was a valid diagnosis, I said that I would never "drug" my child. The list of things I used to say goes on and on. 

But God has a way of opening our hearts and teaching us the lessons we need to learn. And in my case He did so with the beautiful gift that is my youngest son. No one who knows me would accuse me of not providing guidance and discipline to my children. I parent. Certainly not perfectly, but I really try to do my best to raise healthy, responsible, kind humans. And even with my best efforts, The Boy still has occasional "behavior problems".

Children with autism or ADHD or other special needs can't always control their behavior. When they lash out, it's not a choice. It's not an act of defiance. In the case of The Boy, it's usually because he's become completely overwhelmed, has basically shut down and his "fight or flight" response has been triggered.  Thankfully, he is not a runner, but he fights (not so thankfully). 

It is hard for me to admit that my child has punched an educational aid breaking her nose. He has thrown a chair into a smart board, breaking the smart board. Thankfully these incidents are few and far between. And both these incidents happened several years ago.  Back when his expressive language was limited and he struggled to communicate. We work with him constantly on appropriate behaviors, how to mitigate his challenges, how to find his voice of self advocacy, how to use his words to express his feelings. But even though we work with him constantly, we still occasionally struggle with behaviors. 

Just last week we were out and about when a nearby baby started crying. I don't know why, but a crying baby or toddler is a trigger for The Boy. If you know, you can see the reaction. His head jerks up, his eyes get huge, his whole body gets stiff, you can see his mind shut down and his fight or flight response take over. He loses his language. And in the case last week, where I didn't notice the cries and didn't prepare for the response, he ran straight to me. And kicked me as hard as he could. It hurt like crazy. It took everything I had, but I didn't react. It took me about a nano second to realize what happened. So I again tried to work with him on what to do instead. I reminded him that he cannot kick or hit, that he needs to try and use his words: Baby crying. Too loud. Scares me. Leave. Go home. Short, brief statements of self advocacy. Before he can learn to process the cries and tolerate them, he has to know he can escape them and feel safe. Only after he feels safe can we talk about why the baby cries. He might be hungry or cold. The baby can't talk so he cries to tell his mommy what he needs. His mommy will help him and then the cries will stop. All of this over and over and over again with the hope that eventually he will be able to process the crying, advocate for what he needs and not have to fight his way through it. But it takes tons and tons (and tons) of patience and consistency and care and understanding by everyone who interacts with him on a regular basis. What he doesn't need is to be handcuffed by a big policeman with little or no training in how to respond to a child with special needs. 

That would simply further traumatize my child. And here is what happens when my child is severely traumatized. He doesn't forget. Ever. And he will never return to the place of the trauma, or any place similar. He simply would not go to school any more. And every time he saw a police officer, his fight or flight response would trigger. You may think I'm exaggerating a bit. But I assure you I am not. 

Three years ago we attended a street fair. These are difficult for The Boy as they are generally loud, crowded, and a little crazy. But he was holding it together. In the middle of the fair, he had an encounter that for whatever reason sent him over the edge. He immediately started to meltdown and insisted on going home. We left. Ever since then, he will not go to the location of that fair. He simply won't. Even when there is no fair. And he won't go to a street fair anywhere. If he sees pop up tents, his fight or flight response immediately engages. His anxiety goes through the roof and he begins to meltdown. Three years later we are still dealing with this. Imagine if you handcuffed this child at school, in the throws of a meltdown. He would never forget it. For the rest of ever. It would make things a thousand times worse. 

I am so very thankful that our school understands this. That when The Boy is in the middle of a meltdown and trying to fight his way out (literally), they don't call the police. They remove him from the situation, take him someplace safe (usually outside) to work through it, and they call me to come take him home for the day. I'm doubly thankful that his hasn't happened since first grade. But there are no guarantees that it won't happen again some time in the future.

So when I read these stories, yes I take them personally. When I see that 50 pound 8 year old sitting in a chair facing the corner with handcuffs on his biceps, I see my child. And when I hear someone say that all this could be avoided if the child's parents would just do their job, well honestly I'm almost speechless. Almost. But not quite, or I wouldn't be writing about it.

I have never parented with such dedication as I am right now. My older boys did not take nearly as much time, effort, patience, consistency, love, care, understanding... The list goes on and on. To hear someone say that these situations could be avoided if parents would do their job just crushes me. I don't know how to do this any better. I am giving 100% every day. And to have someone negate that in one simple sentence is crushing. I would invite any one of them into my life for just one day. Just one day. I guarantee it would change their perspective forever.

Where am I going with this? Its really 2 fold. Please, please, please don't be so quick to judge. We do not know all the specifics of this case, we rarely do. This boy's parents may be doing everything they know how to help him. But it is a long, slow process. Or, they may be absent, disengaged parents who are over burdened with no supports and burned out. My point is WE DO NOT KNOW. And I, for one, am not going to pass judgement on them. And even if they are disengaged parents "not doing their job", is it the fault of the boy? Does he deserve to be in handcuffs as a result of poor parenting, something he has no control over? No matter the circumstances, I would argue that what he needs is care and understanding and a safe place to calm down. He needs help not handcuffs.

Secondly, we desperately need more advocacy and training. Teachers, administrators, and emergency response people (just to name a few) need training. Even if a child does not have special needs, the techniques used to defuse a meltdown can be used to help a "typical" child calm down. Training and education would benefit everyone. 

And I stand by my original statement. I can't think of a reason a 50 pound 8 year old would ever need to be handcuffed. 

All My Free Time

I work part-time. It's great. The best of both worlds for me. I cannot be a full time stay at home mom. I tried that once and just about went stir crazy. I need some adult interaction and I need to use my brain just a little bit every day. So for me, part time is the answer. This is what works FOR ME. I believe we are all created differently and what works for each of us is different. This is not a post about SAHM's vs working mom's. I really don't care what you do as long as it works for you and your kids. So lets all just do what works for us and not worry about what our neighbor is doing. Now, back to my post.

Since I work part-time, I sometimes get the what do you do with all your free time? Or, what do you do when you are not working? Or good for you, you have some free time to relax.  And I laugh and laugh and laugh. Here is an example of what I do in my "free me time".

The Boy had a med check appointment with his doctor last Tuesday. Yes, we use medication in our multifaceted arsenal of tools we utilize to help The Boy mitigate his many challenges. Don't judge. Medication has changed his life, for the better. He cannot function without it. So, we had a med check last Tuesday, like we do every three months. And I left with 3 months worth of scripts for his "controlled substance" med. I went directly to the pharmacy and dropped them off.

Upon picking them up, one of them had a sticker on it saying the pills may look different, but it is the same medication. The pharmacy had changed generics. Not a big deal, I really didn't think much of it. I proceeded to give The Boy his afternoon meds from this new bottle.

After three days it became apparent that this new generic was not working for him. He was a disaster. That child has the most sensitive system I've ever been privileged to witness. He reacts to so many things, one of which is red dye. And the new generic pills were a very, very, very light orange. I should have realized it before giving any to him. But no, it took us 3 days to put the pieces together. Another mommy fail. Sigh.

So, off to the pharmacy I go with the offending pills in hand. After a long discussion with the pharmacist (who luckily didn't poohoo me when I said The Boy doesn't tolerate red dye) he indicated they could order the previous generics and note in his file that he could only take that brand. BUT, in order to give us a new bottle of the old generics, he would need a new script from the doctor since its a controlled substance. Okay.

Phone call #1 to the doctor's office. He is on vacation. It is Friday. I need to get this handled today. Phone call #2 from the nurse for the on call doctor who doesn't know me or my child and I'm sure is questioning why I'm asking for another script for a controlled substance that I just got filled. I repeat my story for the third time today. Phone call #3 from the on call doctor where I repeat my story yet again. And this time I offer to give him the bottle of offending pills if he will just please give us a new script. Phone call #4, on call doctor calls the pharmacy to verify my story with the pharmacist. Phone call #5 on call doctor calls me back asking more questions and finally agrees to write a new script, which I have to pick up in person and hand deliver to the pharmacy. They cannot send a script for a controlled substance electronically. 

So, off to the pharmacy I go all pleased with myself that I've gotten this handled in just half a day, 5 phone calls and 2 trips to the pharmacy. Go mom! Not so fast mom. The insurance companies (both of them) refuse to pay for a prescription they've just paid for 3 days ago. I understand this. But this is not my first rodeo people. I know they can and do make exceptions. And for $250 I will make that extra phone call and plead for an exception. Back home I go, no prescription in hand.

Phone call #6, I talk to our primary insurance company. The lady is very nice, but cannot authorize a prescription override. She leaves a message with the correct person to call me. Phone call #7, said person calls me and indicates she has to talk to the pharmacy before she can authorize an override. I ask her to please call me back when she is done so I know when to go pick up the meds. 2 hours later I still haven't received a phone call. We are quickly coming up on the afternoon time when The Boy needs to take these meds. Phone call #8, I call said person back asking about progress. She says she hasn't gotten to it yet, its not considered an emergency. At which point I just about loose it and hang up. 

As luck would have it, Mr. Fixit walked in from work right then. When I can't get something done, Mr. Fixit can. He has ... um... different ways of persuasion. Phone call #9, he calls said person back and persuades her that it is an emergency and we need an OK within 30 minutes. (I think there was a discussion about what happens if The Boy doesn't take this med on time and a threat to drop him off at said person's house tonight for her to witness first hand) Whatever, it worked. 

8 hours after I first walked into the pharmacy that morning, after 9 phone calls, 1 trip to the doctor's office, and three trips to the pharmacy, Mr. Fixit came home with the correct generic meds. He did end up having to pay the $10 copay as neither one of us was willing to deal with the secondary insurance who usually picks up the copay. It just wasn't worth any more phone calls to save the $10.

So, this is what I do in my down time. Seriously, I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

Wordless Wednesday - Finding My Calm