Some Possible Answers

Since taking Gus off his medication, I've looked for some alternative ways to help him focus during the school day. He's had a great week, only one less focused afternoon. That's pretty darned good! The weather is a big factor; he's just naturally more hyper and has a harder time during the colder months. But it's looking like physical activity and noise have been playing a big role as well.

It seems that when Gus has lots of physical activity on a daily basis, he's more focused in school. This is not surprising. Exercise increases serotonin, dopamine, norepinephrine and endorphins. The neurotransmitters control alertness, emotions, and concentration, while endorphins are natural mood lifters. So, I've made it a point to make Gus exercise for about 10 minutes every morning with a peddler - an exercise bike without the seat part - spending 5 minutes working his legs and 5 minutes working his arms. After school, he's been either swimming at the beach or walking or something else to get him out and moving. I think that if I can work something out with his teacher in the fall where he has a break midday to do some exercises, everyone may have a happier school year.

The other change we've made is that Gus now uses headphones in the classroom. It seems that when he doesn't have to be anxious about noise, he can concentrate better on his work.

So I'm feeling optimistic about the possibility of a drug free school year to come. Now I just have to find an exercise regime that we can afford and that will be interesting enough for him to want to do it every day.

School Trips

Yesterday was the big school trip to Liberty Science Center. Wow, what a day! Gus was so excited I thought his head might start spinning a la Linda Blair. The car ride was long, long, long, but thanks to the meds, Gus fell asleep for a few minutes. The angst (amplified by the five-year-old mantra of, "Are we there yet?") didn't start until we unwisely decided to use my GPS to get ahead of the school bus because I had to find a bathroom ASAP. We survived, dry and in one piece and finally connected with the rest of the class.

LSC has four floors of hands on exploration, amazing exhibits, a huge IMAX theater and scheduled shows. And while it seemed that every school in the tri-state area was visiting, it was relatively uncrowded. I don't want to imagine what it would have been like otherwise.

We started on the first floor at the skyscraper exhibit. Gus promptly lost it. He wasn't misbehaving, rather he was so over-the-top excited, he was trying to pull me in every direction at once. Then he saw one of the interactive exhibits: kids strapped into harnesses and then allowed to walk across construction beams. I thought about letting him do it (he was about to rip my arm out of the socket trying to get up the stairs) but then I had a vision of him going out onto a beam and either a) freaking out when he realized the height or b) enjoying it so much he wouldn't come back. We left the skyscrapers.

The second floor had an exhibit of animals - one of Gus's favorite topics - called Eat and Be Eaten. He raced through the animals in their tanks, but was completely immersed with the presentation. He got to see a sponge, starfish, scorpion (which he wisely did not attempt to pet) and a giant cockroach (which, ugh, they did touch).

Another big hit was the Germ exhibit. A model of a human head randomly sneezed on the kids, and they of course were tickled senseless by this! I was pretty amused myself, just watching the glee at being splattered.

The best part of the day was the Science of Fear exhibit. That finally engaged him enough to calm him down. It was pretty darned cool. There were four booths set up, each to test different types of fear. The first had you stick your hand into a dark opening just below a tank with a snake and a sign that said Can you feel if an animal has climbed into the hole? Neither of us was that brave. Next to that was a big Jacob's Ladder of electrical current that asked you to stick your finger into a casing and allow yourself to get shocked. He declined and I took quite a while to get up the nerve. Then there was the Fear of Loud Noises. You sat in front of a video camera waiting, waiting and then BOOM! a sound like a shot came out of nowhere. Then the video replayed in slow motion to show you how you looked. Hilarious! He loved that. The best was last of course. The Fear of Falling where you get strapped to a table that tilts slowly back before suddenly dropping you to a cushion. Better than an amusement park ride. Gus took it like a champ, but more impressively, he waited on the long line with the patience of a Buddah. Score!

Just a word on how the Strattera fared...it didn't really. He was as hyper as he ever is in that type of situation and the car ride home was pretty nuts. Instead of crashing like we expected, he was totally revved up, even more so when we got home. I didn't expect that the medication would have done much.

All in all a fun day. He's asking if there's a Science of Fear exhibit closer to us. So I guess I'll stop writing and start looking.

Location Could Be Everything

I just had an interesting chat with the morning bus monitor. Gus has been able to get out of his car seat and has gotten up, but he only does it when the bus is stopped and they are waiting for the teachers to come out and get the kids. The impression from both bus monitors is that he's really smart and sweet and funny. He's not using any negative language or behavior during his hours with them. This is consistent with the way he generally behaves at home. He went through his phase of 'potty mouth' and occasionally gets nasty, but so does every other kid. Mostly, he's got a very laid-back, likable personality.

So the monitor made an observation about his ear-covering, which he's started doing these past couple of months. She felt that maybe he was just exposed to too much 'noise' during the day and is trying to block it out. By noise she meant corrections, instructions, demands, other kids...It's true that there are a lot more expectations on him than ever and being in a mainstream school building, visiting some mainstream classes (music) may be too much stimulation for him.

I can't argue that even though he wasn't getting as much in the realm of academics last year, he was certainly a happier kid and his staff was happier with him.

My Son the Bat

"What are you humming?" The question came from the dining area, about seven feet away. There was a little sister talking and the pellet stove fan was droning, not quietly. But Gus was able to hear that I was in the kitchen humming to myself very much under my breath.

Seven feet isn't that far, but with other noise going on and me being very quiet, I'm amazed that he heard. It explains why he's still covering his ears when he gets on the school bus or while at school. We may not notice offensive sounds, but he clearly hears things that the average person would not.

This uncanny ability leads me to wonder what he's really been crying about recently. He had about three crying spells last week and another one yesterday at school. I wonder if he's heard us talking about the medications. I really have to be better about not discussing him when he's within HIS earshot, because even when he doesn't seem to be listening, he often is.

"What are you humming?" From the top of the dining table with a book opened in front of him, he never even looked up. But he heard me.

Grass is always greener

I know that most people with children on the spectrum would love nothing more than to have their children speaking. And honestly, I wouldn't want Gus to not speak because then I'd miss the wacky jokes and hilarious observations he makes. However...

There's always a 'but,' isn't there?

I don't know if he's doing it more, or if my nerves are just more sensitive than normal, but the constant noises and chatter are driving me batty. Almost from the minute he walks in from school until the time he falls asleep, there is a constant stream of sound coming from this boy. It's often accompanied by running through the house (like he is now). There is literally a cacophony: words, words, words, engine revving noise, earsplitting scream, engine revving, words, words, maniacal laughter, words, scream, engine...on and on. And by the way, the words are either unrelated to each other or are slightly varied repetitions of each other. Here's a for instance: I would like a chicken sandwich...I would like a macaroni sandwich...I would like a peanut butter sandwich...I would like a naked mole-rat sandwich...I would like a knuckle sandwich...I would like a trampoline sandwich...

Sometimes I can tune all the sounds out - I have to because noise is a bit of a sensitivity for me. To much of it makes me nuts. It helps in a way because I'm able to really empathize with him when certain sounds are upsetting him. But at times when I am trying to get him to focus, like when we are doing homework or eating dinner (or when I'm trying to explain to him why he can't put the chair upside down on the stairs and he's ignoring me) it's extremely frustrating to have him just droning on constantly.

Heaven help me when MM decides to chime in and rev him up even more. Then we get a situation like the other night when I finally just screamed, "Why do I bother to say anything in here?" I really just wanted to get through dinner. I don't feel too badly about yelling - I don't think anyone heard me.