Holding Still

dog psychology

I am sitting at the computer listening to the radio.  There's a local station on, and they are playing a series of local ads.  What I like to call "homemade" ads.  They're pretty bad, I must say.  There's a skeleton of a daddy-long-legs on the wall to my right, next to its uninhabited web.  Got to clean the house and probably change the radio station, but I'm just that lazy.  Al took the boys to visit their cousins who also just got a new dog.  Their's is a puppy, a Portuguese water dog, to be exact.  At least 2 hours of quiet.  

Alex went to the city yesterday, and the boys and I had a good time.  H always behaves better when his Dad is in NYC, which is frustrating for me.  I spend a day or two with a sweet, wonderful, thoughtful boy who takes his time, plays relatively well with his younger brother, and listens more often than not.  When Alex returns, he's excited, which is to be expected, but good God!  It's like another person.  Yelling nonsensical sing-songy stuff, hitting his brother, threatening to "kick your butt," rolling on the floor, etc.  What's strange to me is that he sees his dad A LOT.  Alex is a very present parent.  He only goes to the city once or twice a month, and only for a day at a time.  It's the blink of an eye.  But the change is huge, at least to me.  Of course, Alex doesn't get to see the different boy I experience when he's gone.  The boy who likes to carry bags for his mom, to take out the garbage, to help his brother build with Legos.  

Oh well.  My challenge is to try to detach, instead of becoming frustrated and yelling at him, which is what often pops out, unfortunately.  I'm thinking that he's trying to impress Alex, in some twisted H logic.  He talks over other people (me and Lire, mostly), as if to assert his power, and he eliminates any potential for a normal conversation between me and Alex or Lire and Alex.  I do know that he wishes to be Al's favorite being on this earth -- he and I were talking about his personality change yesterday and he said "how did you know?" when I posed this idea to him.  What's equally interesting to me is that the dogs display similar behavior.  Cassie/new dog and our frequent visitor, Sammy the aggressive Jack Russell, are competing for my and Alex's love.  They take turns "guarding" us from the other and look devastated when we show affection to the other.  Fortunately, Chauncey is confident enough in our love to mostly stay away from this fray.  I look at what I do with the dogs and wonder if I should try it with H.  Our friend, Chauncey's breeder, told me that she has employed these tactics with humans, too.  She said it worked with her granddaughter.  What I usually do with the dogs is make sure I give both of them the same amount of attention and tell each girl how lovely and good she is.  Except when Sammy poops on the floor.  Which she did yesterday.  Then I ignored her just so I wouldn't get angry in front of her.  

Fortunately, H doesn't poop on the floor (anymore!), so it should be easier, right?  It's not.  It's hard.  But it must be done.  This pattern has to stop.  It's wearing on me.

Ok, enough of that.  I'm off to enjoy the quiet and make a lasagna.

Go Habtam!

Today H's teacher called us.  She has called a couple times since the beginning of school to talk about his behavior.  Today was a bit different, however.  H had an AWESOME day!  Hurray!  When I told him that she had called and what she had said, he covered his mouth with his hand and his eyebrows shot right off his forehead.  To celebrate we had some hot carob cocoa.  Tomorrow is his day to share with his class.  Each student has two days this month to share something about themselves.  He decided to bring his Lifebook.  We went through it and he decided which pages to leave, and which to remove.  Tonight he learned what the word "personal" meant.  He removed the pages which included his family in Ethiopia.  When I mentioned that these were personal, he asked what that meant.  I tried to explain it in a way he could understand, mentioning that some things were hard to talk about, and that if people asked a lot of questions about them, it could make one feel uncomfortable or sad.  

I have a friend who adopted siblings right before we did.  She told me her older son talks a lot about his original family, how he misses people, etc.  I bring the boys' family up regularly, in fact Lire has been bringing them up lately.  H says he doesn't think about them, miss them or remember them.  How much of this is true, I'm not sure, but it reopens all those doubtful and confused feelings I have when thinking about the boys' lives before us.  

I'm curious to hear how it goes tomorrow.  I will call his teacher to prep her for it, or leave her a note explaining the Lifebook.  It is interesting looking at it over time with the boys, since they understand so much more these days.  

As for Julie's question about where the ones go if they're not allowed to be carried to the tens' place.  I'll let you know once I find out!  

sorry for the lack of posts

As for most, the summer has kept us occupied.  Between camp, visitors, eating, sleeping and my brother's wedding this coming weekend, we've been busy.  

We've made some changes to our days which seem to have helped the boys have fewer conflicts.  Basically, every morning before Al and I totally awoke, H and L would play together in their room with Legos, drawing supplies, etc.  Every morning we would be forced out of bed by L crying "Habtam no!  Stop it!  I no like that!"  Um, probably these phrases would be repeated 15-20 times a minute.  We would enter their room to find H stony-faced while L sobbed in frustration over a taken toy, a push off the bed, or 3 Legos to H's 103.  

Every day H's chart would be all happy faces -- except for the early morning section.  I began to separate them as soon as I heard the first cries of injustice.  No punishment, no chidings, just asked them to play in separate rooms.  Quiet.  After 2 days of this, we decided to ask H (who wakes up a full 45 minutes before L most days) to go into the extra room we have as soon as he awoke.  There are toys in there, books, drawing supplies, and writing supplies.  We've been doing this for almost a week now, and the mornings are quiet, the boys are happy to see one another after their early morning apart (what you do, Habtam?  Cool!  See what I make?  Good job, Lire!"), and Al and I can sleep an extra 45 minutes or so!  

Another change is that we give H simple writing exercises in the mornings.  He practices writing his letters and copying new words.  He really likes it and it seems to focus him like nothing else.  Even more than drawing, which he has been off of for a few months.  H is a basically practical person who likes for the things that he does to be for a purpose.  He knows that letters make words, and that words create the books that we read.  Writing is more grown-up, as well, in his eyes.

I'm not sure how long it will last, but for now the peace is very encouraging.  Both boys can have time to play/create without competition, to have a successful and quiet morning before breakfast and the rest of their day.  And we get to sleep more. 

Phew!

And now for their latest album cover:  

And the liner image (for those of you who actually remember albums...

camp, behavior and book

I'm getting more used to being camp counselor Erin.  Still not a long-term career plan for me, but it'll do for the next two months.  The kids are getting used to the routine, as am I and my teen/young adult counselors.  I'm still fine-tuning our structure (transition times, getting in line to go to activities (3 year olds don't do lines, btw), specific jobs for the counselors), but things are easier.  Only one angry parent who withdrew her child, but it was the best thing for the child, who wasn't nearly ready to be here, and was just barely 3, too.

Habtam loves camp, though apparently he's been having a hard time listening and has been jostling to be first at all costs.  That is "line leader" to you seasoned teacher-types.  He is a competitive person, and always wants to be first.  We're working on it, but it is so instinctive to him, he can't seem to stop before he pushes his way forward.  And I think there are one or two kids who are equally competitive and they are all kicking and pushing one another.  

Ah, boys.  This is a big issue in my eyes because I remember teaching in the public school system.  I remember that those kids who pushed and kicked were always in trouble, you didn't necessarily want to play with them, and they were generally the first to be blamed when things went wrong.  If those kids also happened to be black, well, it was even worse for them.  Al and I have been working with H to slow down, think before striking out, using words to solve problems, not muscle.  It does not come easily to him.  He isn't one to strike out at someone for no reason -- his reasons may not be rational to us, but to him they serve his perceived justice or injustice.  He really wants to learn, to have fun, to make friends.  I am concerned that his sense of the injustice of things (why can't I be first, does he have more than I do, he/she should give that toy to me, now) will harm his abilities to fully realize his simple kid dreams.  Any thoughts?  The chart is till in use, btw.  When he is being rational, I allow him to decide if he will get a sad or happy face.  He chooses fairly, and is honest (most of the time!) when he's not been behaving appropriately.  He did try to implicate Lire in the debacle of spitting gargling water all over the floor.  It came out in the end that Lire hadn't spit that particular time.  Other times, yes.

One last aside.  I'm reading  Held at a Distance:  My Rediscovery of Ethiopia by Rebecca Haile.  I highly (Haile) recommend it (hee, hee).  She was born and lived in Ethiopia until about the age of ten, when her father's political work almost lost him his life.  This is a dramatic recounting early on in the book.  Their entire family eventually moved to the US, where she grew up, returning to Ethiopia 25 years later.  I'm about half way through, and am glad to have found it.  It includes personal musings, Ethiopian history (ancient, Christian and contemporary), culture, politics and social policies.  I'm liking it very much.  She has a familiar way of writing which makes you feel like you're listening to a friend discussing all of these intense and complicated issues.

frogs, pigs and homeopathy, oh my!

I've alluded in the past to homeopathy and alternative medicine here and there on my blog.  In my own health experience I've used allopathic (western meds) and the alternative paths.  But I do try to utilize the least invasive treatment first and then use stronger stuff when warranted.  My MIL is a homeopath, so I've learned a lot from her, and I've learned a lot from treating myself and all of the rare, strange and peculiar symptoms my illness caused me.  I don't know what I would do without it, and I feel lucky that I have an alternative to Ibuprofen, e.g., if I've got a headache, and that I knew to use arnica before and after my nasal surgery to help with swelling and bleeding.  I amazed the nurses at the hospital when the spurting fount of blood from my nose stopped immediately with my arnica.

I am NOT a homeopath, nor do I pretend to know very much at all, really.  But I have discovered a remedy that helps Habtam SO MUCH with his impulsivity, competitiveness, and anger.  When he was having so much trouble with his fillings falling out, infected gums, and pain, we had to suspend his behavioral remedy and use the arnica daily to help him deal and heal.  Between two fillings and two mini-root canals, it took almost 3 weeks before we could give him his regular remedy again.  And then he caught a summer cold, so we had to interrupt it AGAIN for about a week or so.  A tough month all around for the poor guy.  

So finally we have been able to give him his "happy medicine," as we call it, without interruption.  Ahhh....

I keep track of his behavior using a simple chart of happy and sad faces.  Today I looked at the last two weeks and saw how his behavior fluctuated according to when he had taken his remedy.  Pretty amazing.  Three tough days, no smiley faces.  Remedy given on third tough evening.  Five straight days of Happy faces.  A bad day, a good day, a bad day, remedy repeated.  Three straight days thus far of Happy faces.  It seems to last about five days, then starts to yo-yo, until we repeat the remedy.  I've noticed this for a long time, I just hadn't been charting it, so it's semi-Scientific.

Homeopathy is pretty complicated, and you do have to be interested in it to prescribe for oneself, but there are good homeopaths out there who can help you with the more complicated stuff.  My MIL actually didn't prescribe this remedy, I found it myself, while reading an issue of Homeopathy Today which specifically dealt with adoption and behavior.  It described a child who appeared to come to choices as if with an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other, like in the cartoons.  His mom described that he invariably chose the inappropriate one.  This is what struck me in regards to H.  We could really see him grappling with the choices between behaviors.  He didn't seem to be able to make a good choice.  He would invariably bite off his nose to spite his face.

Well, I found the remedy and ordered it in various strengths.  It was great.  It was so easy.  And he appreciated it so much.  He started to ask for it, telling us that his brain "didn't work."  I don't know how long he'll need it, or if we'll have to change remedies some day when/if it stops working for him.  What I do know is that it doesn't have any side effects, it allows him to focus, to make better decisions, and to be a happier, gentler person.  I'm not saying it's a miracle and that there isn't any more weird or unwise behaviors.  Because there are!  But he seems to have more control, and that is what he needs.  

I just thought I'd post about the trends I've noticed with H's behavior.  And give a plug for homeopathy, of course.  The remedy he responds to is called anacardium.  It comes from a nut, I think.  No two people necessarily respond to the same remedy because there are so many aspects to choosing the right one.  So anacardium isn't necessarily the right remedy for every impulsive kid.  It's just what works for H right now.

Below are some artworks by our focused boys.  We spent about an hour drawing together.  The first is by Habtam and is of a frog catching a fly.  The second is by Lire.  It's of a mommy pig and a mommy bird feeding their piglets.  Yes.  The mommy bird is feeding piglets, too.  We know a farmer who lets us visit his sows and piglets, and the image has always thrilled little Lire.  He tried to say later that it was ME who was feeding the piglets.  He meant it as a compliment, believe me!  There is no higher calling to Lire than feeding a baby milk from one's breasts.  He is still personally affronted that boys can't do it.

   

 

scooters and surfers

The chart has been working for Habtam, and vice-versa.  He told me today that he always wants to have a chart, because it helps his "brain work better."  I think one of the things that helps is seeing the smiles and sad faces and being able to remember why he earned them in the first place.  He's able to go back to earlier in the day and discuss his behavior and its repercussions (hurt feelings, hurt brother, wet mother, etc.).

That's not to say that it's been bump-less.  On the second day of the chart's reinstatement, H took the keys to the scooter out of the drawer, inserted them into the ignition, turned said ignition and began to beep the scooter's horn.  He was with my MIL who was innocently washing the dishes while Lire chatted with her.  She had told H she would finish up and then they would play, so he should play a while on his own while he waited.  Which, I guess he did, just with an inappropriate toy.  She and Lire heard the horn and thought he was just beeping it -- thing is, one cannot beep the horn without the key inserted and turned.  Al was just returning from an errand when he came upon this unfortunate turn of events. Al sent H to me in the main house for a "big time-out."  

That was not his best day.  He misses the routine of school, and hadn't had his regular homeopathic remedy in about a month because of his gum and tooth issues.  We had had to interrupt that remedy for one particular to gum swelling (arnica).  Finally, on Thursday he had his remedy, and we can see his brain slow down, his impulses interrupted by second thoughts, and a more peaceful H.  Hold breath.

The first day of camp is tomorrow, which will be great for him.  I'm nervous about it, since I haven't worked in a "classroom" setting in a while.  Though this is camp, so it won't be traditional or as structured.  Still, I'll have 19-20 tiny charges and counselors to whom to delegate.  I can't believe I still get nervous about new jobs.  You'd think I'd get used to it, being such a job-hopper.

In other, sadder news, the 20-something son of an old friend of Al's family committed suicide this week.  It has blown the community's heart apart, I can tell you.  This morning we went to the beach with the boys to beat the humidity.  Arriving alongside us were cars, jeeps and trucks filled with surfers.  The young man was an avid surfer, so we watched as they held a memorial service for him on the beach.  Other friends and his parents and siblings were there, maybe a hundred people.

It was incredibly moving to watch as the young men and a few young women took their boards out into the ocean together -- I'm not sure how many, maybe 30 or so.  They carried a beautiful arrangement of flowers and local fauna with them and tossed them out into the waves once they were far out.  His parents watched and hugged one another tightly.  Al and I tried to keep our tears from the boys, who were happily digging holes by the waterside.  At the end, t hey all surfed in, one or two at a time.  It was one of the most beautiful memorial services I've witnessed.  

Alex and Lire will be going to the service at the local church tomorrow while H and I do camp.  Sorry to leave you with something so sad.  But it was a wonderful ritual for the parents.  I could see how grateful they were to see so many people who had cared for their boy.   

To lighten things, I'll leave you with a photo of Chauncey sitting at my work table.  This window has the best bird/squirrel watching, apparently.