meds

Today will be Julia’s third day off her large dose of Concerta.  This is the first time in years that I’ve dared a medication vacation.  The reasons are many although as I think of them, more than I am comfortable with involve selfish motives.  Life before meds was pretty difficult.

For the past two days, without concerta, Julia has had a harder time concentrating — going upstairs for something forgotten and actually coming downstairs with the item in hand.  She has sung more, been more affectionate and much more thoughtful — offering to share pieces of a limited amount of candy.  She has also been exhausted at the end of the day and ravenous both at meals and in between.  On Thursday evening, her first day without the concerta, she was able to practice cello.  She was a bit distracted but we worked on long bows for half notes which is quite challenging for her right now.  She did it correctly by herself once or twice.  We also practiced on Friday after supper and she needs more time to understand the long bow of half notes, but again she was very willing to do the tedious part of practice — playing two or four or six notes over and over until the concept is physically understood.

During supper last night, we watched Star Trek and she may have watched with heightened interest and more emotional comprehension.

We went to the school movie night last night which amounts to a big room full of elementary-aged children sitting/lying on gym mats eating popcorn and drinking lemonade.  Not everyone is quiet or polite or still, and parental reigns are somewhat loosened.  Julia did chat with her neighbors — two special girls who genuinely like Julia, and a few others who sat close to them — and was squirmy at times but no more or less than she is on her meds.  She was generally well behaved and listened when I called her attention to distracting behavior.

Her special ed teacher commented in today’s email: Julia very talkative these last two days, in fact on Thursday she kept putting her hands over her mouth as if to try to stop talking or remind herself not to talk. Very bubbly. Very tired in the afternoon, in fact both days I gave up on activity as she could not function – too tired, closing eyes, asking to sleep or making a comment about not being able to do it.

One of her SEA’s (special ed assistant) commented:

02/27  –  There was a lot of talking out during classes and also some growling noises.  Also a high pitched laughing at times. (however the laughter was appropriate for the setting).  Her legs and feet were constantly swinging.  During Cops, she started pulling her hair out of her ponytail and scratching her head.  I gave her a post-it to fold.  She wasn’t defiant at all, just needed more reminders to stay focused.  Just seemed like she couldn’t sit still.

02/28  –   J did very well working on her math test this morning.  She listened and followed the directions.  On her way to gym, she laughingly told  me she wanted to hide in her locker.  I told her that wouldn’t be a good idea.  She laughed and asked me if she could do it later.  I’ve also noticed more direct eye contact in the last two days.  She smiled and laughed more as well.  She participated in a game during gym for the entire period and really seemed to have fun throwing the balls at the target.  When she collected the balls to throw, she shared some with her friends.  Usually, she doesn’t seem to enjoy gym and doesn’t participate for the whole class.  She seems to be more socially aware as well.

I want to share these and further observations with her meds doc.  Part of my reasoning for not even trying to adjust medication in the past has been that I didn’t want her to move backwards and wanted to give her the chance to experience as much learning and companionship as was possible, but it may be time to dare change.  In addition, she has an adolescent body now which is growing, sometimes at an alarming rate, and I am in a much better place to manage and observe who she is and what she is doing.

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milestones

Julia surprises: Two nights ago, I was tucking Julia in and she asked me how old two of her classmates were.  I told her that they were either 10 or 11.  And then, she told me that one of them had read book 5 of the Harry Potter books and the other had read all seven. She added, “and Julia Potter is 13,” and gave me her most suggestive look.  I had to laugh at her.  I wanted to send up flags and flares in celebration.  Julia was actually comparing herself to her classmates!  Comparing for the first time ever, at least expressing it to me for the first time.  And she was using her classmates as examples of what she wanted to do.

I know that kids much younger than she use this tactic constantly and for almost anything that they want.  Julia has never used it before.  So much opening and discovery went into that simple exchange.  I get close to allowing her to read whatever books she wants to!

Tonight, Julia got ready for bed in time to spend some time reading.  She is reading one of the American Girl books — Meet Josephina, I think.  I was in my own room reading and Julia called out to me asking if we could buy the book about the Shashawnee Indiana girl, Kaya.  She had told me today that she was reading that book with another girl in school but I had not realized that it was an American Girl book.  Julia makes connections between and among books regularly these days.

These are small milestones in a typical child’s life.  Milestones that I hardly noticed when Cheshire passed one or the other.  It was hardly an occasion to become aware of a new skill, but for Julia!  It is miracles.  And I am very grateful.

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course work

The fundamentals class at Mindfulschools.org is finished.  The last question asked is, “please think back over the last 6 weeks and reply to this question: What have you noticed is different in your life now than it was at the beginning of the course? Does the intention you set at the beginning feel real – even if just for moments here and there?”
I began the course with a lofty and long intention:

“I am safe and grounded.  I am joyful and grateful for the joy and love I experience.  I am peaceful, accepting of myself, my daughter and my community.  I am present.”
Reading these intentions at the close of the course, what jumps out at me was my desire to experience joy and gratitude.  For much of the time since my husband’s death, joy was elusive.  I wondered if even a desire for joy would surface.  I have kept my head down, working towards my goals.

Now, looking back, I think that movement on the joy front had already begun before the course began.  The organization of the practices in the course nudged the process further along.  I am not the ‘cock-eyed optimist’ of my past but I have begun to be grateful for the extraordinary experiences that are part of living and from the gratitude blossoms joy.

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boxes

Last night, during a 45 minute sit, the idea that I have lived all my life in boxes that were like the shell-homes of sea creatures who scavenge used shells came to mind. None of the shells fit particularly well, some were awful fits, but I have been so long with these make-do definitions of myself that I no longer remember what it is to be comfortable, to be real. I don’t really know who I am. I cannot define myself and I am baffled to explain how others see me. I could have said this, realized this years ago but I would have then blamed my parents, my mother specifically for trying to force me into roles that I was not made to play and for never supporting those roles which were intrinsic to me. Perhaps that is true for the earliest boxes but I need to claim responsibility for many, many of the ill-shaped definitions of myself. I have inhabited shells of so many sizes and shapes when I could have designed my own. I have not defined myself in my own terms for so long that I have no idea where to start.

I am both eager and scared to leave my ill-fitting boxes behind.

Julia will be fit in no existing box. We are studying for her social studies test tomorrow. The topics are the Articles of Confederation, the Constitution, the Amendments, Manifest Destiny, acquiring the west, wars with Mexico, treaties with Britain and the Trail of Tears. She has memorized the answers to about 40 multiple choice questions. I am not sure how much she understands. Then again, what did I understand about unreasonable search and seizure and due process in fifth grade? She is compliant about the work of memorization that we’ve been doing all weekend and again today. If she was a typical child, I would not question the importance of the learning. I would figure, I did figure with Cheshire, that she would understand in time and the fifth grade test was a training ground for when her understanding would mature and she was able to respond to questions from understanding and not memorization. So, should I be questioning this with Julia? I do.

Sitting at IDS during Julia’s therapy time. Another child, a girl at least as old as Julia, perhaps a bit older, comes out to see her mom. She is teary. She hates group. She does not want to participate with the other kids. There is one kids she particularly dislikes (she doesn’t say who). Her mother calms her down and eventually she goes to talk to the people at the front desk. She has returned to calm and she can explain her unhappiness to her therapist.

I compare this girl’s behavior to Julia’s and wonder if Julia has the awareness to do what the girl did. I don’t think so. Not now at least.

We are working on math word problems. I feel like I’ve been here before. We worked on the easiest word problems before she had all of her facts. Now she has her facts but figuring out what operation to use for a problem is still challenging. We work slowly through each one. Ex.: J has 6 bracelets. B has 4 bracelets. They put them together in a bag. How many bracelets are in the bag. We draw it out. We use little cubes. Deciding on addition is far from automatic. Still, she does know that 6 + 4 = 10. If we can get to an operation, she can do it.

I worry. That I see a limit. I worried that she would never count. Never add. I might learn from that.

I would like to rid myself of worry, of constantly casting into the future. I cannot see any use for it. Especially with Julia.

Especially with me.

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ripples

The kindness piece of a few weeks ago is moving around a little bit.  To review and remember, it was first published in our school newsletter.  Then, a friend and Randall parent, Sari Judge, used it in her online newspaper column: http://www.isthmusparents.com/articles/article.php?article=41987.  Last week, Ed Hughes, a school board member in Madison, incorporated it into his latest blog entry: http://edhughesschoolblog.wordpress.com/2014/02/20/kindness/

I like believing in the ripples.

 

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daydreaming & ego

Random thoughts through morning meditation and now during breakfast.

Last weekend’s conversation with Julia before meditation:

Julia: Can I think about Harry dancing with me at the Yule Ball?
Me: No. This is a time to think about your breathing.  In and out.  Blue and green.
Julia: No daydreaming?
Me: You can daydream after we meditate.
Julia: Ok.  I’ll do that.

And it dawned on me that she knows, at least on some level, how to control her mind.  I have wondered about this.  Wondered if Julia was doing anything close to mindfulness when we sat in the morning.  Sometimes we are quiet, sometimes I ask her to visualize colors and track her breathing but I don’t really expect that she does.  A long time ago I decided that sitting quietly with me would be enough.  This is not lowering my expectations for her but deciding that practice, whatever it was to her, would come far before meaning.  Intention in this case starting on the outside and perhaps working in.

A simple exchange and perhaps something amazing.

I got an email today about a research project that is looking for participants.  It is focused on caregiving for the caregiver and includes meditation.  For a moment, it was like a knife through my heart.  Umm, just a bit of hyperbole.  Someone else is doing what I want to do!!  And there must only be room for one project of any kind — that success will mean my failure.  So, most of that was hyperbole but in the direction of my feelings.  I live in fear of the scarcity of grace, I can’t yet trust abundance.  My friend, Steve, post a quote on Facebook:

“Man, my friends,is frail and foolish. We have all of us been told that grace is to be found in the universe. But in our human foolishness and short-sightedness we imagine divine grace to be finite. For this reason we tremble. We tremble before making our choice in life, and after having made it again tremble in fear of having chosen wrong. But the moment comes when our eyes are opened, and we see and realize that grace is infinite. Grace, my friends, demands nothing from us but that we shall await it with confidence and acknowledge it in gratitude. Grace, brothers, makes no conditions and singles out none of us in particular; grace takes us all to its bosom and proclaims general amnesty. See! that which we have chosen is given us, and that which we have refused is, also and at the same time, granted us. Ay, that which we have rejected is poured upon us abundantly. For mercy and truth have met together, and righteousness and bliss have kissed one another!”  ― Isak Dinesen, Babette’s Feast

So, I will rearrange Friday’s schedule a bit, send an email to the organizers, and join the focus group workshop.  When I went through Andy Paulsen’s workshop, Pockets in the Rocks, last year, I was both enthusiastic and jealous as all get out.  I wanted to be leading it!  My walk away added to my ideas and I learned from his leadership style.  In truth, it probably doesn’t interest him to run workshop after workshop.  He seems to be a big picture person.  I saw plenty of room for both of us.

Why after demonstration after demonstration do I need more affirmation?  I sense that deep down I want to the “fame” of being an innovator, but deep down I also just want to do the work.  How much is stale and ineffective ego?  Part of me can celebrate.

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Cheshire and Linde were due to come for the weekend Thursday evening but because of a big snow storm headed for NYC, Cheshire changed her flight to Wednesday.  What a gift!  This visit is my birthday gift from these young women and nothing could be better.   It is wonderful to have their spirits in the house.

Julia’s first cello concert was last week.  It was a class performance and only for other classes — not even the entire school — and parents who could make it during the day.  They played about eight tunes — some a line long.  I still think that the strings program strives to quantity over quality, but it was great to see about 30 kids playing together.  Julia did a very good job.  Her aide sat beside her but Victoria did not need to do much queing at all.  Julia payed attention to the music and the teacher as she conducted.  Divided attention!  Something that her therapists and I longed for for a very long time.  Her playing was not perfect but when she got behind I could see her skip a few notes to catch up.  She did not rush ahead and she did not play during any rest.

Yahoo!  I do not think that she is at the bottom of her strings class.  She is playing with peers!  I am sure that we do a lot more work at home, plus her private lesson, than many of the other kids in her class, but I am so encouraged that she can keep up.  And very encouraged that she is interested and enthusiastic about continuing.

The middle school search continues.  Conflicting reports from different parents and educators reflecting their own experiences and some of what they’ve heard.  Right now, I don’t see any school as being a perfect match and sorting through strengths and weaknesses has not produced a winner.

Patience.

Last week of the Fundamentals course at Mindfulschools.org.   I will skip the next round of the curriculum course and pick that up later in the spring.  I need time to digest what I’ve been practicing and also to spend time with the material that I’ve gotten from the woman who I will be doing my final LEND internship with.  As that opportunity becomes more defined, I’ll write some of it.  Right now, we’ve had two meetings a few months apart, the last one last week with a list of possible tasks for me and a pile of books to read and sort out.

More patience.

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kindness

Last week, in the freezing cold, the eight other kids at the school bus stop stood back to let Julia get on the bus first in order to avoid having her sit with them.  I wanted to do something . . . no, I don’t expect to change THE world or even OUR little corner, but I’d like us to be part of the solution. And so, I put this piece in this week’s school newsletter:

What did you do that was kind today?

Imagine that every parent in our Franklin Randall community asked their child this question at the end of the school day or at the supper table or before they turned out their child’s bedroom light.

What did you do that was kind today?

Our schools do all they can to teach and encourage kindness and to discourage bullying.  My daughter’s teachers at Franklin and Randall have gone far beyond their job descriptions to instill the ideals of inclusion and open heartedness among their students.  And I have often pondered what more can parents do?  How can I reinforce the character building that she is learning at school?

What did you do that was kind today?

This morning I observed once again that the kids on the school bus went to great lengths to avoid sitting with my daughter.

My daughter is one of those kids who will always be picked on and excluded.  Someone will be mean to her perhaps every day for the rest of her life, and she is not the only one.  My heart hurts for her and it also hurts for all the others.  I can’t stop other kids from excluding, segregating and being mean.  As a parent, I’ve felt powerless in the face of mean girls and cool boys.

But I can teach my daughter about kindness.  I can teach her how to create the world that will include, nourish and cherish all people. I want to build on what she is learning at school.  I want her to help bring an inclusive, loving community into existence.

And so, I will begin asking her every day when we sit down to talk about her school day, “What did you do that was kind today?”  I will ask her if she saw anyone who needed kindness, and I will suggest how she might be kind tomorrow.  Further, I will intentionally model kind behavior and I will talk about that behavior with her.

Will you join me?

What did you do that was kind today?

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mole

It is cold.  With windchill, it may be -40 tomorrow.  I have a chicken mole recipe that is done in a crock pot and makes enough to freeze a meal or two after supper.

Lately, no, recently, no, today, I was thinking about whether I could live with another adult again.  My cooking, choice of meals, is very dull.  I mean this mole is not bad. I serve it to Julia with rice and fresh spinach.  Tonight, with a little cauliflower and a few garbanzo beans.  With rare exceptions, Julia eats what I serve to her.  I do think about her dislikes when I cook but her range of foods is pretty broad. I try to avoid bread, starch and cheese.  Julia eats without comment.  If she does not disapprove, she just eats.  And so, I don’t please her.

“Julia, do you like what you are eating?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell the cook.”

“Mommy, the food is ok.”

Cheshire and Linde are coming to visit in a few weeks and I was thinking about cooking for them.  For a few moments, I was intimidated just imagining trying to please them.   The reactions makes me feel like a bit of a hermit.  I need an adult roommate.

School was called off for tomorrow around noon today.  And today was only a few degrees better.  We will do our weekend list of school related work.  I had Julia start painting her bed this afternoon and wouldn’t you know that she does a good job putting on a first coat of paint.  I was working on the headboard and was rather casual with my first coat.  When she was done with what I had given her, she asked if she could “fix” mine.  She used to ask the same thing when David or I tried to make play dough dinosaurs with her.  I did not show her how to brush evenly, I did not tell her not to put paint on the end pieces.  She just seemed to know.  She is a visual learner but I never imagined that she looked at painted furniture and somehow learned or understood what it took to make the piece look like that.

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Tears

I am sitting in a bar on the way to Racine for the Quest winter retreat.  I actually managed to leave so early as to give myself time to stop on the way for lunch.  I’ve never done it this way before.  My usual way is to pack up very late and/or very early before retreat, cram something into the beginning of the day, start out just a bit late and become utterly frustrated when traffic slows my frantic pace, and finally, arrive at best just as the first meeting begins and at worst, after supper.  This behavior makes it impossible for me to settle in and prepare for the experience.  Some fear, some apprehension, some betrayal of self.

And today — well, I’ve been cutting expectations all week.  Didn’t “finish” Julia’s room, didn’t go to the seminar that I didn’t want to attend, didn’t even hang the four little pictures that I finally framed this week.

And it is all ok.

Perhaps I am taking something of mindfulness in.  Unmindfully, judgementally, I might add, Finally!

So, sitting in this bar and at first feeling guilty and uncomfortable being here.  As if lunch (with a diet coke) is some kind of ultra indulgence that I have no right to.  The physical feelings — part of the week’s assignment in the online meditation course I’m doing — are a queasiness starting in my diaphragm and moving out to the edges of my sides as if not really inhabiting my whole body.

But I settle in, order lunch (and my diet coke) and open email.  We are asked to be computer-less for retreat and I comply to the best of my ability although I am planning on doing some course reading at night and last retreat I wrote on the keyboard instead of a notebook.  Checking email is far away from the spirit of the law, let alone the letter.

In my box, is an email with attachments from my friend whose mother died last week.  She sent the order of service, written tributes and obits for her mum.  This is a woman who I liked so very much.  We met when her daughter was our exchange student and she came to visit.  During our first evening together in Indy, David, she and I went to an Indian restaurant and had planned to go to the symphony.  We ate and talked and missed the music all together.  She was one of those very precious people with whom conversation was effortless.  I have not known many.  So many people knew her so much better than I did, but I was not wrong at all for wanting to know her so much better than I did.  Her husband used the words “generosity of spirit” in describing her.  I have used those words to describe what I want to grow into.  I am not surprised.

I sit in a bar, with a few tears falling into my diet coke and a headache from not having a good, long cry.  I hurt for them, I hurt for myself.  How many times do I need to be reminded to seize life and suck it all dry!?  If I am going to have to hurt this much, I have to suck out all the joy when it is there for the taking.  I am reminded of day lilies — blooming furiously for one day.  Blink, walk quickly, wait and they are gone.

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