Mental Health and COVID-19

Where do I start? Words like "pandemic", "quarantine", and "social distancing" have become part of everyday language, especially within the last week. I'm not here to talk about statistics, lecture you about staying inside, or discuss the physical symptoms of the coronavirus ad nauseum - not because it's not a big deal, but because literally everyone is talking about it. The conversations are important - and overwhelming.

We live in a world where we're one scroll a way from scary headlines and latest news. On the upside, it's never been easier to stay informed and connected. The downside is wide spread - yet understandable - fixation. As a parent of a kiddo on the spectrum, I know fixation, though somewhat inevitable, is not healthy. So am I saying we should hide our heads in the sand and avoid what's going on? No, it's essential to be informed, especially where health and safety are concerned. But now that we're all stuck inside with exponentially inflating numbers buzzing around our heads like flies and every phone conversation circling back to one topic, let's not forget mental health. It's okay to extend social distancing to social media and to limit how much you allow into your brain. It's okay to take a break, read a book, focus on your work, and talk about literally anything else. It doesn't mean your not taking this seriously. Sometimes social media makes us feel guilty for disconnecting. I have to constantly remind myself not to take the bait - for my own sanity.

This pandemic is affecting all of us in some way - those in vulnerable groups the most. But it's not just affecting us physically. No matter who you are, you're likely experiencing isolation, cabin fever, anxiety, and disruption in your normal routine. This is an adjustment for anyone. For those with underlying mental health conditions, current circumstances exacerbate already pervasive struggles. Anxiety sufferers, particularly those with germ-focused phobia, must deal with increased worry over getting sick, getting someone else sick, or a vulnerable loved one. Again, we are all dealing with these very appropriate worries. But, already present anxiety is that much more amplified. Although, if you prefer to be at home like me, certain anxieties (social) may actually be alleviated. On the other hand, if you're a small business owner or otherwise out of work, you are likely faced with financial uncertainty, especially given that none of us know how long we're in for.

Social distancing equals social isolation, especially for individuals like my mom, who live alone. Social isolation is depression's best friend. If you don't suffer from depression, this is a time to watch for it in yourself and those around you. Especially check in on those who live alone. Signs like lack of motivation, sleeping ore than usual, changes in appetite, and irritability (especially in children) can all be warning signs of depression. If you're a fellow depression warrior, now is the time to take extra care of yourself. If you rely on a routine that has been subsequently interrupted, create a new or modified routine. It might sound simple, but getting up and dressed and showered even when you won't be stepping foot outside your door may help retain some normalcy. While it's healthy to distance from social media, it's also important to keep connected. I've done this by participating in the live streaming of my church services, spending time coming up with new activities to do with my kids, enjoying rare moments to talk with my husband with fewer distractions (sports, a long commute to and from the office), and maintaining regular phone contact with my mom.

This isn't the time to put extra pressure on yourself. If you have a family and even if you don't extra chores will be created y people being home all day using dishes, taking things out, etcetera. If you have restless kids at home like I do, you may see an entirely new level of clutter. My ten year old was recently looking for his GoPro charger. He asked me where it was. I can't even keep track of my own stuff, so I told him to look in his room. Apparently, this ultimately fruitless search necessitated taking every book off his shelf and leaving it stranded on the floor. Well, at least he can keep himself busy cleaning his room. Spoiler alert: hasn't happened yet.

I got some great advice from my son's therapist. She encouraged me to avoid putting too much pressure on academics, instead focusing on mental health right now. I feel like this is good advice anyway, but with a first grader on the autism spectrum, I have to check my expectations. Though my older son is used to homeschooling, E is used to the structured environment of school. His day to day has changed - not ideal for someone on the spectrum. Fortunately, we have access to e learning and his teacher and aids have been great about filling his virtual subject folders. I've been employing the use of our visual schedule to intersperse school with free time, but I have to remember not to push it. In general, we all have this fear of falling behind. Maybe we can put that aside for now. Maybe we can take a lesson from all the chaos and learn to slow down, prioritizing our health and well-being. Now is not the time to introduce new material or stress about extra screen time.

As we navigate this new, uncertain terrain, we are inundated with reminders to practice proper hygiene and safeguard our physical health. let's remind ourselves to also focus on and safeguard our mental health too.

Please feel free to leave your own tips for mental healthcare, as well as ideas for helping those living alone feel connected, in the comments

What my Sons Have Taught Me

As I sit down to write about what my sons have taught me through their struggles and triumphs living with a disability that they don’t fully understand (especially my four year old) I realize it’s going to be difficult. It would take far less time to list what they haven’t taught. I just celebrated my seventh Mother’s Day. I was twenty-five and naïve when my first child was born. Go ahead and do the math. I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I mean, I did a lot of babysitting growing up and I was a nanny for twin toddlers in college, so obviously I was qualified to be a mother, right?

            

I didn’t know that the only food I’d be able to keep down for the first four months of pregnancy was Kraft macaroni and cheese. I didn’t know that I would call my pediatrician’s emergency line at ridiculous hours for ridiculous reasons, (“Why is he sleeping so much?” “Is green poop normal? Google told me it could indicate too much iron.”) terrified that I’d miss something. I didn’t know that I would miss something. I would pass off my sweet, docile toddler’s dramatic and overnight behavior change just before his third birthday as acting out because of the new baby coming. I would blame his violent meltdowns on attention seeking while I was consumed with caring for a high needs baby and his father travelled. I would tell myself the appearance of phobias were just things he’d grow out of and that all kids were sensitive to the shrieking of baby brother. I let people tell me that he would adjust to kindergarten when he was five. That was one of the most crucial lessons my eldest son taught me. He taught me not only to listen to him but to also listen to myself and trust my mom instincts. God gives us those instincts for a reason. No one knows your child like you.

I pulled him out of school under the wagging fingers of the school social worker, principal, and teacher, who believed the problem was me. I was being too soft. That his hands clamped over his ears in the lunchroom, the tears rolling down his five year old face, and the gagging at hot lunch day were not symptoms of a problem but a deliberate act put on by a child who simply didn’t want to go to school. But I had swallowed and indeed fed myself the “kids do this” line too many times. I have always gone far beyond being a people pleaser, struggling most of my life with anxiety over what people think of me. While counseling was a huge tool in my overcoming this, it was A who taught me that what people believe about me is not nearly as important as what I believe about myself, and others’ opinions can’t hold a candle to what’s best for my child. A taught me that I can’t control what people believe, and just because someone believes something doesn’t make it true. When A was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder at six years old, he taught me about self-forgiveness. I had to forgive myself for what I didn’t know. It had been wrong of me to punish him for meltdowns that he couldn’t control. He was teaching me how to parent him and he was teaching me how to be kind to myself.

When I began homeschooling A, it was truly my job to teach him, and it was daunting at first. Once again, he’s taught me so much more. Every day that we spent locked in battle, every dent door and torn up math sheet would make me question myself again. “Maybe everyone’s right; maybe I can’t do this. He’ll fall behind.” They weren’t and I can and he didn’t. A year of intensive therapy, an amazing hybrid school where homeschooled kids attend small classes twice a week, and a lot of learning later, A has blossomed in a way I could have only hoped and prayed for. Homeschooling is absolutely the right decision for him, despite the well meaning advice from naysayers, including therapists. A taught me to have confidence in myself, and in him. A taught me that the toughest situations can get better with a lot of faith, hard work, and patience. A taught me that the autism diagnosis I was so afraid of is not a prison sentence but merely a roadmap, a tool. The autism that makes it difficult for A to participate in large groups, the anxiety that makes sounds, textures, and smells hard for him, also makes him understand others’ differences. When A sees a child throwing himself on the floor in the grocery store he will be the first to say, “I feel bad for him and his mom. It seems like he’s having a really hard time.” He has compassion for a situation that many adults sadly approach with scorn and assume to be “bad parenting”.

 I can’t leave my precocious E out of this conversation. E was spitfire before he was born. He was so active his little feet knocked one of my ribs out of place! Little did I know this little boy would change my flat screen world to three dimensional HD color. E started teaching me when he was an infant. When I say he NEVER slept, I am not exaggerating. The first time he ever slept more than ninety minutes at a stretch, he was 15 months old. The well meaning advice-givers told me to let him cry it out and that I was spoiling him. Now, I am not against the cry it out method itself, but E needed to be held. He needed to rub/pinch my arm and comfort nurse. He needed touch and motion to feel calm and secure. Since he was conceived E and I have had an almost uncanny connection. I knew I was pregnant with him even when test after test sowed one line. You can’t not know E is there. If you know him, you know what I mean!

E has always taught me what he needs. To this day, E still needs touch to fall asleep or to calm down. E taught me that it is possible to do whatever you need to do for your children, even function on an hour’s sleep. Moms are super heros, whether your child is typical or has special needs. When E started preschool at the same school A attended, he taught me to be flexible. We loved (and still love) the school, but it became apparent that E needed more than the school could provide. Due to his difficulty following verbal instruction, E was not able to complete our school district’s evaluation process accurately. He did not qualify for special education that spring, at two and a half. In the fall of his second year of preschool I returned to the district’s early childhood center armed with the results of a private evaluation completed by and occupation therapist. The results showed that E had dyspraxia and sensory processing disorder. He was reevaluated at the early childhood center and this time he qualified for special education placement, a full IEP, and bus service. E has been obsessed with school buses forever, so this was and still is thrilling for him. The child who struggles with transitions runs out to that bus every day like it is a flying carpet arriving to take him to Disney World.

            

E taught me persistence. E taught me advocacy. E taught me that one person’s special ed school bus is another person’s golden chariot. E teaches me courage every day. The first day that bus arrived to take him to a brand new school, he jumped on and bravely waved to Mommy from the window, headed for the unknown. E teaches me that life is an adventure. When I mention in conversations that E  receives special education services, I’ve been met with an , “I’m sorry”. Please don’t be. I’m not. E is thriving. His speech has really taken off.

           

E’s meltdowns and aggressive behavior have increased lately. When he received his official autism diagnosis at four, it wasn’t a surprise. Applied behavior analysis therapy was recommended. I was nervous and overwhelmed. A lot of hours, a lot of therapists coming and going through our home, and varying opinions in the autism community left me unsure. Still, we tried. The benefits are already apparent. E has taught me patience.

          

E teaches me tolerance and compassion. Public outings are a struggle with E. He jumps first, asks questions later. He has no concept of danger. If you’ve seen me out and about with E, you’ve probably seen him elope. You’ve seen me running after him. E does not do this to be naughty. He does it because the world is his playground and when he sees something interesting he runs straight for it. His expressive language is delayed, and like many on the autism spectrum, verbal communication is a challenge for him. It is difficult for him to stop and say, “Mom I want to go see that.” Conversely, E is prone to sensory over load. When he needs to escape a crowded, noisy, bright place he will simply take off. He is quite literally fleeing with no regard to where he is going or if an adult is coming with him. E will also fall on the floor and kick and scream when he gets over loaded. He may also seek sensory input by touching things, repeating phrases, or making loud noises/speaking loudly. Sadly, people gawk at E like he some sort of exhibit when he does these things. You can’t look at E and see that he has a disability. E has taught me to have a thick skin. Yes, it is exhausting and sometimes even heart breaking to take E to a restaurant, the grocery store, or the children’s museum, but I will not hide him away or deprive him of going to fun places like the museum or Rainforest Café so that the world will be more comfortable.

           

E has taught me that there’s often more to behavior than meets the eye, and I’m not just referring to autism. I feel like I have become a more accepting, less judgmental person all around. I still have a lot to learn, but I would like to think I’ve learned to choose kindness over judgment more often. My child flailing on the floor of the Lego store is not being a brat. He is experiencing sensory overload due to a lot of people, fluorescent lights, colorful displays. Likewise, the obnoxious person who doesn’t know when to be serious may be insecure and using humor to cope with social anxiety. The mom on her phone at the park may be burned out. This might be the first time her kids have entertained themselves all week and she’s finally sitting and catching up with friends or reading an eBook. The person with the bad temper who is angry at the world may really just be sad. I’m not saying behavior should be excused, but there’s usually an explanation. E has taught me that the world still has a long way to go when it comes to acceptance.

I believe my boys have taught me more than I could ever teach them. Seeing them try, struggle, and try again teaches me strength. Being in tune to their needs has helped me to be in tune with my own. When A goes up to his room with noise cancelling headphones, his blanket, and his iron golem stuffed animal, he teaches me that it’s not only okay but important to take a break when its needed. When E runs like the energizer bunny, he teaches me to never apologize for uniqueness. My boys have taught me that some people will never understand, never try to understand, and that’s okay. We won’t hide away to make them comfortable. My boys have taught me love behind measure, patience I didn’t know I was capable of, self-care, grace, and that the world is a better place with them in it,

"But What About Socialization?"

My neighbor asked, her eyes widening slightly. Ah yes, the number one question all homeschoolers get upon disclosing their status. Yes, what about socilization? We were at our annual neighborhood pig roast (because my neighborhood is cool like that) when I encountered this question, and not for the first time. Amist good food and chatting, my next door neighbor asked me how my first grader was doing in school. This is a friendly, straightforward, small talk type question. I responded that he is doing well, and oh by the way I don't know if I told you this but I am homeschooling this year. She said I hadn't told her, and what led me to this decision? I shared some of our struggles in kindergarten and some of the factors leading to our decision. Then came the question I was expecting:

"Well, you should get him back into school next year, because, you know, what about socialization?"

I looked across the blocked off street to where my six year old was digging and running around with several other neighborhood kids of varying ages. Hmm, yes, what about socialization.

I was going to make this a mad Mondays post, except I relized that this question doesn't actually make me mad. Aside from the fact that I love my neighbor and I know she has the best of intentions, I think this common question most often comes from a lack of knowledge about and exposure to homeschooling. After all, homeschooling isn't mainstream although it is becoming more common, and aren't homeschoolers just a little weird, a little, extreme, a litle rebellious?

Before I began looking into homeschooling my own child, I didn't know a single person who homeschooled or who was homeschooled. I had neither positive nor negative opinions regarding benefits or drawbacks. It literally wasn't on my radar. Deciding to homeschool for me was like deciding to move to outer space. People either admired and supported me, nodded and smiled the way you would at someone who has lost touch with reality, or openly worried for my sanity hoping that this was a phase that would pass, like my college days of drinking cheap beer and wearing graphic tee shirts. Realizing I needed additional information and additional support, I sought out other homeschooling moms. Turns out, they do exists! *Channeling Santa from M&M's over played Christmas commercial.

I found some wonderful moms through the church where my son attended preschool and when I shyly asked if I could pick their brains, they set up a homeschool Q and A session over coffee. They showed me curriculum materials and shared the ins and outs of their homeschool days, even inviting me into their homes to see homeschooling in action! One mom had just finished her first year of homeschooling and she assured me that it was normal to feel overwhelmed in the beginning, that when she started she felt as though she'd jumped into the middle of the ocean without a life vest. I couldn't have come up with a better analogy (although my outer space analogy was pretty bad ass). Both of these moms have first graders. I would have expected some competition among homeschooling parents. I saw the opposite. They were falling all over each other telling me how smart the other person's kid was! I am now part of their weekly social group and they welcomed me with opened arms. Both of my boys get to play with kids their own age since as it turns out they all have toddlers as well. I have found the homeschooling community to be very supportive. They believe strongly that homeschooling is best - not for every family - but for their family. Also, I think they like chatting with people on common ground. My first grader also attends a co-op eight hours a week where he learns, prays, plays, and eats with first and second graders in a smaller classroom. He also takes two elective classes at a local church on Fridays. These classes are multi level which give him a chance to work with older and younger kids. After all, how many offices or companies do you know of that segregate people by age? Learning to interact with people of all ages is definitely a useful social skill.

Aside from co-ops, cub scouts, religious education at our Catholic Church, and karate, he also sees his long time best friends often, which means I get to see my friends often. Win-win. He has known these kids since preschool or earlier, and he knows the value of maintaining long time friendships no matter where life takes you. Besides, his "girlfriend" lives just across the street and we live in a neighborhood full of kids.

Now, I don't like to make waves. I am not excited by controversy and believe it or not I hate arguing. Often times it's easier for me to smile and nod in a let's agree to disagree fashion in these situations. This was my first instinct when my neighbor asked me the socialization question. But I felt like I had to show my confidence in my decision to homeschool my son. Also, I know I can express a differing opinion politley, after all we were just two neighbors shooting the breeze at a barbeque. I told my neighbor that in traditional school socializing is limited to a forty minute lunch and recess, and then after school play or activities. I shared with her all of our activities, the wonderful, diverse people we have met, and our unwavering relationship with "old" friends. I also told her that homeschoolers are afforded far more resources than I had even imagined, and that homeschooling does not mean we sit in our house by ourselves all day every day. I mean, if that were the case I am pretty sure I would eventually resort to inviting Jehovah's Witnesses and solictors in for margaritas and adult converstion. (Both of whom are perfectly nice people, don't get me wrong.) After listening, my neighbor's gaze drifted over to my son, who was recruiting a gaggle of neighborhood kids to help him with his construction work, and ditch digging in our front yard, much to my husband's chagrin.

"Well," she responded, looking back at me, "Well, he sure does seem happy."

That's a good enough answer for me.

Day One

* Written on Monday, August 3, 2015

I have been preparing for months for this day. Really, the entire past year has been leading up to this day. The momentous start of kindergarten, Aiden's difficulty adjusting, the sounds and smells of the lunchroom, the crying, the teasing, the patronizing staff, the school social worker. All of this followed by moving schools, shorter days, rebuilding confidence, doing extra work at home, research, school tours, and prayer. I am reminded of one of my favorite bible verses:

"While from behind a voice shall sound in your ear, 'This is the way, walk in it.'"  -Isaiah 30:10

I didn't choose homeschooling, it choose me, as hokey as that may sound. I never thought about homeschooling one way or another, until I had to find another way for my son. I didn't really want to homeschool, but it kept coming back, nudging me. As we struggled to find the best place for our son for this school year I prayed for guidance. But I had already been told what to do.

So here we are, day one. The previous months have been spent researching curriculum, buying books, meeting other homeschooling parents and picking their brains (God bless their patience) and jotting lesson plans in a notebook. The previous weeks have been spent turning the loft playroom into a classroom, although half of it remains filled with toys, coloring books, and busy boxes for Elliott. My husband went to Ikea with me on a Saturday without batting an eye. He put together the bookshelf we picked out and he spent the weekend helping me move baby toys to the basement and our chalkboard/dry erase easel upstairs. He has been on the fence about homeschooling. Like me, he never had exposure to it and just took for granted that our kids would go to a traditional Catholic school like their parents did. Despite his misgivings, he has agreed to give it a shot. He is supporting me and for this I am grateful, because aside from lots of coffee I need support on this venture.

Aiden does not begin class at his homeschool school until August 31, at which time he will attend eight hours a week. For now, we are getting acclimated to our classroom and working on math, reading, writing, and spelling. The first day at Mom's School of Hard Knox was a success. It was also my first time teaching math. Saying that math is not my strong suit would be an understatement. I remember learning about Heaven and hell in Catholic school. I pictured hell as being chained to a school desk having to complete long division worksheets for all of eternity. Now my version of hell would have more to do with never ending piles of laundry and an absence of coffee, chocolate, and beer, but I digress. Ever since I purchased the Alpha version of Math U See from Sonlight, I have been teaching myself to teach. Fortunately, this curriculum comes with a student book and a corresponding teacher's manual, complete with numbered week by week lessons. Today I introduced the concept of places - hundreds, tens, and units - a concept that I had all but forgotten having learned it twenty some years ago.

I learned a little about teaching math and a lot about how my "student" learns. He is very eager to learn and catches on quickly, but he is also a perfectionist and does not want to try if he thinks he'll get the answer wrong. I assured him that I would never be upset about a wrong answer, but only if he didn't try. We would have no need for school if we were born knowing everything. I also reminded him that I would be learning with him to a certain extent, after all I am not a teacher by trade. I have the utmost respect for those who are; I admire anyone with the stamina and knowledge to lesson plan and teach a whole classroom full of different learning styles and behaviors. Aiden picked up the concepts quickly and we had time for our math game - building hundreds, tens, and units houses. First we had to color and cut out the number cards. Elliott was scribbling away right there with us, sans pants since we are potty training. More on that later, but hey, where else can students come to class without pants? Don't answer that.

After math, Aiden was eager to play more math games on his leap pad. We had lunch and did writing - Aiden's least favorite. He balked a little at the writing, but with a little encouragement we were able to review the proper way to hold a pencil and form letters from top to bottom and left to right. Yeah, I am pretty sure I have been gripping the pencil and forming letters incorrectly my whole life. See, you can teach an old mom new tricks.

We ended the day with a prayer and the best and worst parts of our day. Predictably, Aiden liked numbers the best and writing the worst. In this way he is definitely more like his father, but hey, it might be best not to have more than one writer in the same family. We can be kind of quirky. Except for Jan of course. Wink wink.

Day one is complete, and truth be told it went better than I expected. Now, don't worry, I know my year of homeschooling won't be all rainbow shitting unicorns. I am a realist. I know that we will have battles and tears and chocolate eating and days where we don't get shit done. After all, it's me we're talking about. But I also know if I am prepared for these things we can get through them. I know it will be incredibly challenging and incredibly rewarding. Kind of like parenting, huh? Elliott also filled his potty chart today so all in all I'd say it was a win.

Not all days are like this one; in fact it seems like too many are not. So this post really isn't about homeschooling. This post is not meant to be in any way boastful or persuasive. I have documented the days where everything seems to go wrong, and I have to keep track of a day that just worked. After all, I want to have it in writing to prove to myself it actually happened. You know, some say the unicorn is more than just a mythical creature...