Week One

The first week of camp is hard for everyone. It’s especially hard for Sam. But let’s be honest here. Full disclosure – it’s the hardest on me.

Never in a million years did I think I’d become the kind of mother that I am - a bit obsessive and kind of a worrier. I think about my kids all day long. I wonder what they’re learning, who they’re playing with, what their mood is like, anything and everything that has to do with them. I don’t for one second wonder if they’re thinking about me or expect anything back or get angry that it’s a one sided thing. I just love being Ben and Sam’s mom and wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

When I was growing up I wanted to have an amazing career, one child, a very reliable babysitter and no husband. I didn’t dream about the perfect wedding or imagine the fun I would have with my children. I was all about the job I would have and how powerful I would become. So what happened? I was moving onward and upward in my job. I was living my dream and then I got sidetracked. I fell in love, wanted to have babies and then felt like so many other working moms – everything around me was being done badly. I was barely balancing it all and wasn’t able to have fun with any of it. So I quit to stay home with my boys. I left a great track for an entirely different one and I haven’t looked back since. 

But staying home and making my kids my job has given me a whole lot to worry about. I think about it all. And then I think about it again. The tiny details - what they’re eating for lunch, who they play with at recess. And the really big stuff – Brain Balance, ADHD and doing everything I can do ensure that they grow up to be adults that I would want to be friends with.

Sending Sam off to camp is one of my bigger stresses. I worry about how he’s going to do at swimming, who he’s going to sit next to on the bus and what he’s going to choose to do for hobby. I wonder if his counselors will be patient and if the kids will be kind. But most of all I worry about him being happy. I want him to come off the bus with tales of fun. I want him to try a new sport. I want him to feel great about himself and to have a sense of accomplishment. I want him to be proud that he conquered something terrifying.

It’s the end of Week 1, so let’s assess – he scored a home run at softball, he chose soccer at hobby, he almost caught a fish, a co-camper told his mom (who told me) that he seemed really happy this year, he likes his counselors, he doesn’t want the summer to ever end and he has a whole bunch of freckles popping out all over his nose.

I think I may need to find something else to worry about.

Change is in the summer air

School ends. We say goodbye to teachers and wonder who Sam will have next year. Will the new ones understand Sam like Mrs. Holland? Will they be patient, loving and help him stay on the path to wonderfulness that he's on.  I so hope so. The final day of school comes and we wish classmates and mommies a happy summer and cross our fingers that some of his friends (and mine!) will be in next year's class. I hide it from Ben and Sam but I always cry as we drive away on the last day. They don't ever seem as nostalgic as I feel but I kind of hate change and am super sentimental  and couldn’t turn my waterworks off even if I wanted to.

A few days later camp begins.  This will be Sam's fourth summer at this camp. Each year I worry that it's not the right place for him. Is it too competitive? Are the boys going to be kind? Are the counselors going to understand Sam's quirkiness? Camp is all about things that are hard for him - sports and social skills. Co-campers couldn't care less that he's a great reader and quick with numbers. What matters is how he gets along with his group. For nine periods they travel from activity to activity with a group of 12 boys. They move from walled hockey and tennis to nature, cooking and swimming. A day full of fun but potentially challenging for my cerebral boy. We chose Willow Lake because it would expose Sam to all sorts of activities he would normally shy away from and they would be offered in a not too intense environment...it's not a camp full of jocks. The campers like sports but care more about having fun and the focus isn't just on winning.

Last summer Sam didn't get along with a few of the boys in his group.  The camp worked hard with us to improve the situation and by the end of August he was happy and intended to return for another summer. In the Fall, Sam took a class after school at a local venue. He loved it and begged to go spend the whole summer there building rockets, creating video games and websites and solving crimes like he was the main character on CSI.  Like I said before, camp is hard for Sam. It pushes him out of his comfort zone which makes it a critical component of his development and one I don't want to walk away from. So I compromised and told him he could go sit inside in Montclair for two weeks but that the other six weeks had to be spent outside at camp crossing some items off his bucket list.  

Two weeks before camp kicked in he announced a switch of plans:  

 

Mom, he said, I love it at Willow Lake. Why wouldn't I want to spend the whole summer there? 

While I hate change, especially at the last minute, this is one is welcomed. So I smile and agree. And once again I wonder - who is this changed boy?

Opening up

 

Going Well

Middle

Bad

Sammy is becoming a mush. It’s not that he was cold or aloof pre-Brain Balance but he was shyer and we at home were the only ones who really got a peak inside. Few others got to hear how he was feeling or see his emotions. And there was very little affection shared with anyone besides me or Tom.

But now, things have changed. When at OT last week, he made a feelings chart with Jerzie. He came up with the whole thing on his own –

Green

1. Happy - things went just the way you want them to go today

2. Feeling great - nobody said anything bad about you today.

Yellow

1. Alright - only a little bad things happened today.

2. Feeling well - you almost felt sick but now you are better.

Red

1. Frustrated - people are saying "nope you didn't do it right - do it again" and you feel frustrated.

2. Upset - people are teasing you and you are upset about that today.

3. 7-13 things that happened bad - today you had 7 - 13 things bad things happen today.

And if this wasn’t enough insight into how our thoughtful boy feels about things, he hugged Mrs. Holland today twice and leaned into her another time. This is a boy who doesn’t touch. But I think I said that already.

So now I need to take it to the next level for you. Because that’s when these changes really rock our world. The boy who opens up and loves gets even more love back. The more he gets, the better he feels about himself. The better he feels, the more successful he becomes. The more success, the happier he is with his life. And on and on. Happiness, life satisfaction, love. What more do we want for our babies?

Lucky Sam

Dairy is back in Sam’s life. He’s eating and drinking whatever he wants.  He’s ecstatic and 100% fine. No attention deficit. No wandering thoughts. Still connected. Still happy. Even with the reintroduction of fro yo, a glass of milk with dinner and cheese on his sandwich. His brain must be truly balanced – I am so happy that I cannot stop pinching myself. Ouch.

I tend to get ahead of myself. One date in college meant I should start sending out wedding invitations; One bad comment from a boss at work meant I was getting fired. You get the idea. So after Sam’s set back upon reintroduction of dairy I was convinced he would be dairy free for life. It was at the root of his issues and into old age he would grapple with the choice – dairy and lack of attention? Or no dairy and attentive? A hard decision for an white haired, wheel chair bound old man to make.

A little dramatic, I know.  And I’m thrilled to report that just like I shouldn’t have designed the wedding invitations quite so quickly, it’s a good thing I kept that secret stash of dairy hidden in the bottom drawer. Because four weeks more without dairy did the trick. How? According to Brain Balance, his gut needed the extra time to heal. Now healed, he can eat what he wants without an impact on his behavior. Lucky him.

Can you hear my jaw hitting the floor once again? Boom.

Re-evaluation

Today Sam and I went to Brain Balance for the second of two re-evaluations. He worked in the sensory gym with Sarah Anne while I sat in reception re-completing the same written evaluations I filled out when we started - The Brown Scale (measures ADD/ADHD), the GARS (an autism rating scale), The Hemispheric Checklist (measures Motor, Cognitive, Sensory, etc), The Sensory Profile and the BER (Behavioral Evaluation Record).

Pre Brain Balance, sadly, my pencil filled in many of the circles all parents want to avoid - the ones that made it obvious that Sam has ADD and PDD-NOS. Thanks for the reminder. Just what I needed.

I had to answer yes to countless questions that had been reworded and re-asked over and over in slightly different ways:

Does my child have a hard time focusing? YES.

Is his handwriting large and messy? YES.

Does he find social situations challenging? YES.

Is it hard for him to sit through meals and homework? YES.

etc, etc, etc. I get it.

And then there were the questions that I proudly responded no to -

Does he eat objects that aren’t food? NO.

Does he repeat certain words over and over? NO.

Does he avoid certain rooms because they smell of cleaner? NO.

etc, etc, etc. Somehow the NOs hurt more than the YESs. But isn’t that always the way?

Fast forward four months into the future to now. And once again, this Brain Balance experience has managed to make me stop in my tracks. There are a few questions that have new and improved answers –

Does your child hate sports? Does Four Square count as a sport? I think it does - NO.

Does your child only choose sedentary activities? NOt anymore. He actually likes to play basketball in our driveway.

Does your child memorize words but has a hard time with reading comprehension? This used to be an issue but NO.

And the new answers go on and on. It's amazing to be able to step back and measure the change; to see the new future that is Sam’s. I forgot how sad Sam was. And what a challenge every new experience was for him. And how hard it was to watch. But now his story is different and we've rewritten the rest of the chapters. Outstanding in every way.