My little self-dictator

   As a parent, a mother especially I believe, it's hard to face reality and accept that your child may have "issues" and seek to get them help. It's common to get feedback from well-meaning strangers, friends and family members like "Oh, it's a phase" or "Well, what do you expect, you spend too much time with him" and other shit along those lines.
   Recently, while facing the reality that Nixon will be going into some kind of Pre-Kindergarten this fall, I've also been faced with his less than perfect behaviors and took the first step to see if these were real "issues" on a larger scale or if they were, in fact, just a phase.
   The county we live in offers evaluations for learning and behavioral disabilities through a program called Child Find. While this info is not easy to find, on your own without guidance from the school system, it is there if you are like me and willing to spend hours scouring the Internet searching for public resources. I finally made an appointment, after explaining my concerns for Wednesday May 15th.
  What were my concerns? Nixon is easily frustrated by new tasks to the point of tantrums, he has some speech issues, he's very sensitive to sounds,he's very focused on things being done "right" if he thinks it's wrong everything is ruined. To someone else, these would seem small and like I'm overreacting  but put them all together and on any given day Nixon is a ticking time-bomb in a new environment.

   We met with the evaluator and were taken to a small classroom setup. Nixon was given a few small tasks to complete, puzzles and things of that nature, while Mac and I spoke to the evaluator about our (mostly mine) concerns. After talking to us for roughly 20 minutes, during which time Nixon completed an advanced puzzle meant to occupy him for several minutes in less than one minute, she went to spend time with Nixon one-on-one. This was when I had to focus on filling out paperwork and tune them out because I needed to resist the urge to correct Nixon's behavior. He wasn't being horrible, he was just forgetting his "please" and "thank you"s while he was constantly saying "I can't do it" a favorite phrase of his before he does a new and unfamiliar task and more than once being bossy. But this was why he was being evaluated and he was told to be himself, much like he would be in a classroom.
   He didn't like when the tasks had to change, for example switching from cutting paper to drawing suddenly. He wanted more time building blocks. He displayed his "this is ruined" behavior when he found a broken peg, but didn't flip out because it was quickly removed from his sight. He was able to hear a classroom of students through the wall and asked why they were "being so loud", the evaluator said they were learning like he was and he said "they should do it quieter, they are being too loud"...she looked over his shoulder at me and gave kind of a knowing "Oh I see" glance. He was able to copy building block patterns she made, even a more advanced setup that she didn't expect he would be able to complete...he did!
   She made notes of his language the whole time. With the exception of his "th" sounding like "f" at the end of words mostly, which is age appropriate, he is fine with language and can carry on exceptionally well for his age. He is above age-level for grammar, with his sentence structure of "Excuse me, may I please play with this box now?" according to the evaluator. I just thought I was teaching my child to be polite, I never gave a second-thought to sentence structure. 
   One of the funniest moments came during the verbal analogy part. She'd give Nixon an analogy and ask him to complete it. The first one was "Food is for eating, Milk is for_____", expecting drinking. Nope, Nixon says "cow". So she repeats it and he says "cow" again, she tries a third time and Nixon says "I said milk is for COW", she moved on and he did fine on the next 3 analogies, even correcting himself with a more appropriate word at one point: "My hand is big, your hand is____" Nixon first said "little" but then said "No, wait...my hand is small." She was impressed that he would correct himself like that.

    After all was said and done, she sat down with Mac and I again and went over her findings. She does not see anything that leads her to believe Nixon has a learning disability, first and foremost. He has no signs of being on the autism spectrum either. He does have sensory perception disorder with sounds, but we've got a firm understanding on that and are handling it appropriately at the moment.* Nixon is showing signs of being very bright, above age-level intellectually wise but (there's always a but right?) he has behavioral issues which can pose problems in a classroom environment.
   Nixon is self-dictated. He's happiest when he's setting the pace on what he's learning and doing. Which is no surprise to me, I saw him learn how to walk independently in a matter hours when he decided he was ready and potty training was the same way. When he was ready, he went from pull-ups to undies in a couple weeks...full-time, no accidents overnight even! Self-dictated? Yeah, I can see that!
   But he's not good with taking directions. Which will undoubtedly be an issue in a classroom. He's so damned bright, I want him to love school but he won't if he's getting in trouble for not listening to his teacher. Which is why the evaluator referred us to another program BEST (Behavioral/Emotional Support and Training) to help us learn how to help him control that now before he's in school.

   Overall, it was a good evaluation. Until the end. We'd mentioned Nixon's epic tantrums that happen when he's told to do something he just does not want to do. Well, he did not want to leave when our appointment was over. And he let it be known...by screeching at the top of his lungs! I was my usual calm, I've-shut-down-because-I-need-to-check-out-and-just-deal-with-him-non-emotionally-right-now self, and the evaluator and her boss both asked if this behavior was normal, and of course we replied, "When he doesn't get what he wants and a distraction doesn't work, yep, this is normal" I'm glad they got to see it. It's important they see all the behavioral issues we'd mentioned, and they're going to pass their notes onto their Occupational Therapist as well.

* I've been worried, especially since I only have one child, that I might be over-indulging Nixon and making his issues worst unintentionally. When going shopping or to a restaurant, we have his PSP with shows on it so he can watch that and focus on the familiarise of his shows rather than the noises around him. I had been worried that I was helping him "check out" of reality, but the Child Find head behaviorist actual said, given how she had been witnessing Nixon in the classroom setting, giving him something else to focus on is great. He's still out in public, getting to do things like eating out and helping with the grocery shopping, when he's comfortable enough, but he's not overwhelmed by the surroundings all-at-once. By having something for him to focus on, that we know works to keep him focused, we're providing him safety from the chaos he would otherwise be going through. The fact that I will also take him outside and let him decompress away from the site and sounds of a busy diner, is another good thing I'm doing for him. I'm not punishing him, for getting overwhelmed, I'm giving him a chance to regather himself.

   It's been hard to see Nixon struggle and not know if it's me causing the issues or if he's had genuine issues. To get actual professional opinions about him has helped. We know where to go from here, how to help him and what steps to take to help make him successful when he enters school. It's hard to admit your child isn't perfect and might need help, but the very best thing for your child is to get them that help early so they can be successful later in life.

Quick mini-brag

  Monday Nixon and I met a friend and her son who were visiting from my hometown, and we spent the day in Baltimore. A big portion of our time was spent at the Baltimore Aquarium. On a Monday. Which was rainy. And had a bunch of field trip school groups. Hello, people overload!
  Most of these kids were pushy and just rude. Some of the adults were too.

  Nixon was on point with his manners. Lots of "excuse me" when he tried to get to a tank and there were people in the way.
  At one point, I was beaming with pride. Nixon had just said "Excuse me please" to a couple as he moved towards a tank. I was a few feet behind him, and the couple turned to walk away. The guy said "That was the most polite kid we've run across all day." I said, without missing a beat, "Thank you, he's mine", and the guy continues "Well done mom. You weren't prompting him or anything, he's very polite. You should be very proud!" I am.

  Sure, Nixon did have his freakout moments and he did fly through the exhibits that he found uninteresting and he may or may not have tried telling a group of people to "be quiet" because they were too loud and hurting his ears (he did do that), but he was awesome overall. Well, minus asking me to carry him up and down stairs because he was afraid of them. But hey, he was just making sure I got the most of out of day out together, kind of like my very own little heavy bag!

Nixon "instructing" the dolphin show...no one knew he was doing it but me

In love with jellfish

Holy upside-down jellyfish! Gross but cool. 

Reach out and touch...the really thick glass tank. haha

A catfish with a head bigger than Nixon's torso! This thing was the chillest part of the visit, he  just came over and sat at the glass looking at us. Even I had to admit, he was kind of cute. 

Stop me if you've heard this before

   In one week from today my mother-in-law will be arriving to spend a week with us. We haven't seen her since Nixon's birthday and I was not at my best, mentally wise. She'll be here one week before Mother's Day, which is cool since we haven't seen her for Mother's Day since....well, before Nixon was here.

   That story goes like this:
Mac and I got married in March 2008. I found out I was pregnant in late-March/early-April, but we decided to wait to tell everyone because I'm superstitious and it seemed awesome that the end of the first trimester was very close to Mother's Day.
Not telling family for 11 weeks....hardest thing ever!
Mac and I had already made plans to fly to Miami and spend the weekend with his mom. We saw my family in March, so this was our first trip to visit his family since getting married. We had planned on not telling his mom until Mother's Day, but had to change that a little. I had horrible all day nausea and I'd lost over 15 lbs by the time we went to Miami. His mom knew something was up. I looked awful! I was super tired (tried passing it off as being tired from the early flight without success) and I couldn't keep anything down.
We went out to dinner with Mac mom, step-dad, brothers, sister-in-law and her family. I was trying to eat and not get super sick. Mac and I decided, since everyone was there and it was obviously going to be a long weekend, we were going to tell everyone after dinner.
As everyone may or may not know, Mac's mom is Vietnamese. Mac is half-Vietnamese but never showed much interest in that side of his heritage. (trust me this is important)
As everyone was getting coffee and dessert, Mac puts his arm around me and says to his mom, "Mom, how do you say "grandma" in Vietnamese?". She starts to explain, it depends on if it's the maternal or paternal side of the family. Then pauses and says "Why do you ask?". Mac says, calm and deadpan as can be, "Well, because you're going to be one."
Cue my mother-in-law asking "Are you serious?" a few times, other family members giving us hugs and congrats and my mother-in-law telling me "I knew you looked more than just tired!"

   (Fast forward to our next visit to Miami before we left to move to Okinawa, when I fell in love with my mother-in-law's Pho...it's a soup that is A-maz-ING! But when I was pregnant, I could barely stomach the smell, let alone the taste. Thank gods, Nixon left my body and I could like my mother-in-law's awesome food once he did)

   It seems crazy that it was five years ago that we told everyone Nixon (at the time Squishy) was incubating in me. I can not imagine my life without him, without Mac and without my awesome mother-in-law.

  Here's to an awesome visit, a wonderful night-out with my husband and Nixon getting some quality time with his Nana while I remain in much better spirits than our last visit.

"Mommy's brain is broken, kind of"...explaining things to a 4-year old so he understands them without being scared

  Last night Nixon had an extra late night. He stayed up until almost midnight! He was in bed with me watching a movie on TV being good and quiet. Since Mac was working I was okay with a slumber party/movie night in our bed.
   I had to go downstairs and take my medications for the night. I told Nixon I as running downstairs to get my meds and Nixon says "Mommy, I need meds too. I am sick." *sigh* This is when I have to explain to my 4-year old that my medications aren't for an illness but for my "broken brain".
me: Nixon, I take medication because my brain doesn't work right not because I'm sick.
Nixon: You brain is broken?
me: Yeah, kind of. It doesn't work like it's supposed to. The medicine helps it work like a regular person's brain. Like yours does.
Nixon: Because my brain isn't broken?
me: No, baby, your brain isn't broken.
Nixon: How did your brain break?
me: Oh, well, I didn't have a good childhood and my brain worked differently to help me deal with it. Now my brain thinks that's a proper way to function.
Nixon: But you brain is broken!
me: Yep, it doesn't know it is, but I realize it doesn't work like it should.
Nixon: Can I see you brain?
*I get on the bed so he can look at my head*
Nixon: I see it mommy! I see your broken brain. It's cracked right here *points*
me: Wow! You can really see it?!
Nixon: I'm going to kiss it, so you feel better. Then you can go take your medicine and be a good mommy for me, okay?
me: *almost tearing up* Okay, baby.

This is a selfish post about me and my own issues....good and bad, with a little parenting tip at the end.

  Since the first of January, I've steadily been losing weight. I'm not doing anything significant. No working out, no real diet plan (though for the first month I did eat a lot of fruits, veggies and salads to really kickstart the weight loss). The biggest thing I've done is make a commitment to use myfitnesspal.com daily and track my caloric intake.

  Around Christmas time I realized my weight was creeping up over and past my comfortable heavy point. I decided after the holidays and starting January 1st, I was going to stick to something. Calorie counting was it, as a starting point. I also cut back on sugary snacks, soda and fast foods.

   In January I lost almost 7 pounds.
   In February, I lost 4 pounds.
   March it all kind of tapered off, with a total loss of 2.5 pounds lost.
   As off Monday this week, I've lost 15 total pounds. The most amazing reality of all this weight loss struck me yesterday after I got dressed. I've always been pear-shaped. It's my reality. Even when I was in my late-teens and early-20's, weighing not even 100 pounds (and struggling with poor self-image issues) I was always thicker on the bottom.
**I never really noticed, until one day while out with my then-boyfriend and his friends, one of his friends asked me, who at the time was probably only about 90-95 pounds, while wearing shorts at an amusement park "Why do your thighs rub together when you walk?". I remember, at that very moment I became very, very aware of my thighs touching and my perception of myself was suddenly very ruined. I never felt thin enough, pretty enough or tall enough. I couldn't fix my height, but I could fix my weight. Being only 5 feet, 1 inch tall I am a naturally petite person. I'm also naturally pear-shaped. At 18-22 years old, I couldn't appreciate my naturally curvy body because the people I surrounded myself with broke each other down instead of building each other up, like I later found out real friends do. 
  I spent several years hiding my lower body, while showing off my chest. It made no sense, but I didn't know any better, I didn't have any positive role models in my life at the time. As a result, I'm kind of permanently damaged when it comes to my self-esteem and how I see myself. The smallest, negative comment about my looks can send me into a downward spiral of self-doubt. Seriously, the smallest negative comment. It could be made in jest, but I'll hear it in a serious tone and take it as such. Luckily, I now have a supportive husband and some really great friends I can turn too and get some great, loving advice from when these comments happen.**

  I put on my jeans yesterday, knowing they were looser, and feeling comfortable in them as a result. It was gorgeous outside, so I was even rocking a cute tank top, first of the season! I noticed, walking over to Mac's Geek Corner, my thighs don't rub! Not even in the jeans!
  I don't know about most moms, but for me, this was total proof that the weight loss wasn't just numbers on a scale going down! That was concrete proof that I'm making real progress!
  I've had bumps in the road, I've had weeks when my weight went up a bit and I've had trips to Taco Bell (mmmmm....those ranch doritos tacos!!) and even McDonald's. But the thing I've learned is moderation. I don't NEED to go large, a small is just fine. If I'm craving ice cream, I'll stick to the serving size. Or I'll make a smoothie instead.

   It's hard, but well worth the effort.
   Sorry, this blog wasn't about parenting exactly, but as a mom I struggled with my identity and image. Being able to look and feel good, I think helps me be a better mom. Also, I know how to help Nixon be a good friend, not the negative ones I had in my life for so long. I want him to build his friends up, not tear them down. Especially young girls, the smallest comment can have a lifelong impact on them. Sadly, I'm proof of that.  

My inner demons won't stop me from parenting my son how I see fit....and fuck you if you don't agree!

  I've struggled with writing this blog, for fear of the backlash, for a week now. I first went to a closed group on facebook looking for support and found judgement and condemnation. Last night, as fate saw fit to send me a kind and loving shoulder to lean on in the form of a BFF, I found the strength to be true to myself and confidant in my parenting choices.

   It started last weekend. After weeks of Nixon's behavior getting worse and worse, I'd finally had enough. We had tried everything: time outs, taking toys away, no tv time, taking everything away, talking to him about his behavior, rewards for good behavior. Nothing worked effectively. His behavior in public was becoming horrific, despite our repeated removing him from the store to the car as soon as he acted up.
  I finally had to make a decision I didn't want to and I fought desperately to avoid: I had to use spanking. But, I wasn't going straight into it, I was going to give warnings, chances to avoid the spanking and then only one spanking. I never spank out of anger. NEVER! If I can't rationally sit with Nixon and talk about why I spanked him, I won't do it. Spanking is not a means to control him, its a means to help him learn that his actions have consequences.
   Over that weekend, Nixon got a handful of spankings. Every single one of them, he got his warnings, continued to go about doing what he was doing, and got the resulting spanking. He gets a swat on the bottom, enough to make him realize we mean business, but I'm not aiming to leave marks on him.
   The one that really bothered me, and I felt made me "that" mom, happened Sunday night at the grocery store. Nixon was asked to help us do the shopping and stay out of the cart, without his PSP. A first, but I want him more connected to us and paying attention to us. He was doing really great for half the trip, he loved picking out the cats canned food! But, the empty frozen food aisle seemed to be a sirens call he couldn't resist. He slowly started to stray down the aisle, warning 1...started running down the aisle, warning 2....full-on bolted down the aisle, no more warning. He came over to me as soon as he saw me holding up 3 fingers, he knew what was coming. I realized there was no one around, I popped his ass right there in the ice cream section! His tears started, Mac and I took a couple minutes and calmed him down, talking to him (still in the frozen food section) about why he got the spanking and how he could avoid getting another one. He calmed down, and stayed right next to the cart with me the remaining time in the store.
 
 Am I proud I'm spanking my child? No. That's not the point of this. The point is, I'm parenting my child in a way that works for him and in doing so I'm putting my own personal conflicts behind me. It'd be easy for me to use my abusive childhood as a reason to not spank, and I admit I never intended to spank at all. But the more head strong and imaginative Nixon gets, the more difficult it is to punish him effectively. Time out became a time for him to play with his imagination. How do you tell a child to not play with his invisible friends, if he's staying in his time out area? He's not breaking the rules, he's being quiet, and doing his time, he's just having conversations with his "friends". You can't break a child's imagination. He was looking at the wall, like he was supposed to. He knew why he was in time out, he'd tell me why he was there. It just wasn't effective.

  The point is, since I made the decision to actively parent Nixon and use spankings, he's listening and paying attention. Last night we went to the airport to pick up Franny. Her flight came in around 1030pm, which is about an hour to an hour and a half past Nixon's normal bedtime. I was dreading it thinking he'd be a tired monster.
  I was wrong. He was a delight. Held my hand, listened to me, sat next to me while Franny grabbed her bags. The only time he got a little upset was when he had to stop playing with Aunt Franny because we reached the parking garage.
  A complete and total turn-around from a couple weeks ago.
  He's not a changed kid, he's still the same, but he knows to listen and do as he's told when asked because there are consequences. The warnings are enough now.

 I don't expect everyone to agree with my parenting choices. But I'm damned sick and fucking tired of being made to feel like a bad parent because I am being a fucking parent! I'm doing everything I can to help shape Nixon into a productive member of society and I'm not aiming to ruin him like I was ruined by abuse. It's a fine line, but I'm walking it with my head straight and my shoulders back. I want Nixon to know that his actions have consequences. It took only a few spankings for him to grasp that. I haven't had to spank him in 4 days now. I'm not saying spanking is the answer, but I'm also not going to let my child act up in public or set the rules at home because I'm too afraid to spank if that's the effective method.

   I can't expect Nixon to be a strong individual in himself, if I can't be a strong role model as a mother. 

He's my very own rage therapist.

   Holy shit, I love Nixon sometimes! I mean, don't get me wrong, I always love him but there are sometimes that I just positively adore him a little bit more. Today, in the car, was one of those times.
  Not too long ago, we had a talk about Nixon's perfect use of "fuck". A few weeks later we had a total  miscommunication and utter misunderstanding over "bridge" versus "bitch", resulting in profuse apologies by Mac and I to Nixon, but evidently resulting in a lasting impression on Nixon over the importance of not using swear words.

  Here's how it all happened:
*I'm driving on the highway, at about 65mph. The car in front of me hits the brakes as he sees cars in the on ramp that will be merging...eventually*
me: What the fuck are you doing, asshole? (I checked the left lane, signal and switch to get away from the old man driving)
Nixon: AHHH! Mommy, don't say that word!
me: I'm sorry Nixon, you are very right. I should not have said that word.
Nixon: Mommy, that is a naughty word. You should never say that word!
me: I know, you're right and I apologized.
*I drive a few more miles and then have another asshole drive stop in the middle of 2 turn lanes blocking both*
me: You are a goddamned moron!
Nixon: Mommy! That's another bad word!
me: Sorry, but he is a moron!
Nixon: Mommy, you need to just say "crap on a stick" instead.
me: I will next time.
Nixon: No! You say it now. Say "crap on a stick" mommy.
me: "Crap on a stick" Nixon. Happy?
Nixon: Yes. Now be nice and happy.

Apparently my days of unchecked road rage, with Nixon in the car, are over. Oh well, it was good while it lasted.