Connor, Chapter 3
Ah, what an adventure it’s been, raising this kid. It’s definitely time for an update, since we’ve definitely seen some changes with him. Also, it may help some of you understand why I have withdrawn from life quite a bit in the past couple of years.
Thinking back on it, I have to break Connor’s life up into three-ish chapters (so far)
Chapter One:The Age Before Kids Have Long Term Responsibilities
Connor is hyper and self-centered, but in elementary school, for the most part, kids aren’t expected to do anything beyond the moment. In 5th grade he had a token project or two, but because it didn’t count for the bulk of his grade, he could coast by on sloppy classwork and great test grades.
From a parenting standpoint, Connor is an aggravation, serious at times, but it’s tolerable. He had bursts of anger which would result in very inappropriate behavior. I’d assign consequences to those behaviors, and at times, he would refuse THOSE, which of course resulted in more consequences, and sometimes things got out of hand, sometimes for as long as a couple of weeks.
The times when he was NOT blowing up, though, he was bright and charming and funny and helpful.
Around 5th grade, he developed more of a fixation on computers than he’d had before (and what he’d had before was significant, so that much of my parenting energies was spent on controlling screen time.)
And this brings us to . . .
Chapter Two: CONNOR WANTS WHAT HE WANTS AND NO MORE!!
My efforts to help Connor grow up, evidence some self-control, be responsible enough to be in school and sleep reasonable hours resulted in more conflicts between us, more outbursts from him, and more consequences.
By the time the summer between elementary school and middle school came around, I had one wish for his behavior. . . . that he not stay up all night. I figured if I could get him sleeping on a normal schedule, the rest would fall into place.
So I told him that over the summer, his solitary job was to wake up by 8:30. If that happened, he’d get anything he wanted. Computer time all day, we’d go out and have fun, have friends over, get treats all day, go swimming - whatever. If he didn’t get up by 8:30, he’d have to work on his handwriting and write a few sentences about the importance of waking up on time, the number of repetitions increased depending on how much later he woke up. After writing the sentences, he would be allowed to play on the computer for a couple of hours.
You may be able to tell how desperate I was at this point. =P
My hope was that the reward would be so attractive to him that he would at LEAST force himself to wake up in the morning, even if he was exhausted all day. That would make it easy for him to fall asleep at night and then get him on a reasonable schedule.
Instead what happened was that he just refused. He did not like the writing at all, so spent all day on “the torture mat” at my feet, where I spent every waking minute of every day trying to get him to just get his consequence over with so he could move on to play time and his 2 hours. He basically would waste his whole day protesting this, and it eventually got to the point where he had so much to write (thanks to waking late and consequences for not doing his writing) that it was impossible for him to do it all.
Over an entire summer, he woke up on time all of three days. The rest of the summer he spent torturing ME for the audacity I had, trying to make him do something he didn’t want to do. And also coming up with fiendish clever ways to get on the computer after we went to bed.
Chapter Two-Point-Five: Middle School
I wrote a long rant about this at some point, I believe. I did a reboot with the consequences and told him his job was to maintain B’s in his classes, with as much of my help as I could offer. I communicated with his poor teachers a lot, I monitored his web pages, I checked his homework and projects.
For his part, he developed fiendish ways to make it look like he’d done his homework, perfected the art of lying, and came up with even more fiendish ways to get on a device or stay up late doing what he wanted. In classes he was impossible. If he was bored, he would create a scene. If he didn’t want to do work, he simply didn’t. End of story. What could the teachers do? They can’t touch him . . .
I met with teachers and administration at the school a LOT. Out of the thousands of kids they’d seen, there was never one quite like Connor, I was told =P
At home, I tried to offer rewards enough and supply consequences enough for his bad behaviors that he should have been happy to spend the few minutes a day doing the dumb things he needed to do, but no luck. It got to a point where he was destroying my house, because he could. I had no way of making him reimburse me, and when I tried to get him to help repair or clean up his messes, he would go on to make more and more spectacular messes. Oh, we have SO many holes in my walls and damaged cabinetry =P
At this stage, my life was a never ending battle of wits and wills with him. Both of us were miserable and angry all the time. Connor always claiming that his behavior was out of his control, and me thinking “Bulls***, you had to spend a lot of time coming up with these plans to get computer access while I was asleep, for one thing, you little ass” (I was beyond using polite language in my thoughts at this point!)
Thinking about Connor’s temperament, I honestly could not envision a future that did not end in death or jail for him. We tried all different psychologists, various psychiatric help, social classes, reward and punishment systems, and it was all for nothing.
Chapter Three: All Praise Psychiatry and Parenting Flexibility!
Around the time I was asking Connor’s psychiatrist who I could call to get legal advice on what I was allowed to do to this kid (I was wondering if I could handcuff him to me while he should be sleeping, no kidding) she suggested that we try drugging him to sleep at night, more or less.
I felt very weird about doing that, for some reason. Looking back, I wish I’d started it a lot earlier.
We started giving him pills at night that would make him very drowsy. He could still fight sleep, but he could only fight it so long, and so he started going to bed at a reasonable hour, therefore waking at a reasonable hour, getting enough sleep, feeling generally better about things, and basically everything started to turn around, here.
Not long after this, we also got a diagnosis from a neuropsychologist that verified that he is on the Autism spectrum. This didn’t come as a surprise to anyone. (I mean, ALL of us are on the spectrum, because it’s a spectrum) But somehow, between the official diagnosis and his newfound ability to not stay up all night basically NOT SLEEPING, I was able to make myself accept some things about him.
Connor is something like The Incredible Hulk, only (thank god) without the superpowers that go along with the transformation.
A few times a day, something will frustrate or enrage him. I’ve asked him to pick his socks up off the floor, or come to dinner, or other traumas along those lines . . .
At this point, Connor Hulks out and starts screaming. “I PICKED UP SOCKS YESTERDAY,” or “I JUST STARTED A GAME WITH MY FRIEND BECAUSE I FORGOT YOU TOLD ME 15 MINUTES AGO WE’D EAT IN 15 MINUTES!!!!”
Now, old me would have Mom-Hulked out, because SERIOUSLY?? This level of response over something so silly? So I would sternly chide him, and he would scream back at me, and the cycle (hours to weeks long) would begin.
But now I just let him scream, and when he’s gotten it out, repeat what I said. I say it very calmly, or even with a joke. He might whine at this point, or he might scream again. In any case, I just calmly wait, and say it again.
Eventually, he just transforms back into Connor and does what he’s supposed to do. What’s weird is that he’s very chipper and cute about it at this point, as if all that other stuff didn’t happen. He always apologizes, and it seems sincere.
Because we are not constantly at each other’s throats, his general attitude is a LOT better with me. He wants to help out around the house. He wants to get his school work done (maybe, sometimes) because he enjoys the praise he gets for doing okay. (Also, I’ve promised him that if he ever gets perfect grades, I’ll get him a VR system, so that might be helping. =P)
So I just had to a) get him sleeping so he could actually function and b) realize that he really CAN’T control these outbursts, and leverage the fact that he CAN and DOES recover from his rage very very quickly, and still does what he needs to do.
Life is SO much better with him. I can now picture a decent future for him. I can now enjoy time with him (a lot, actually.) He’s making B’s in all his classes. He’s very affectionate with the family.
I still have trouble imagining him functioning on his own, but I’m told he may just be emotionally delayed, and will grow out of his Hulkiness at some point. I’m also told that the fact that we are not hating each other always is the most important factor in his chances for future success, because often kids in his shoes DO mature, but at that point, their familial relationships are so damaged at that point that the kids turn their new skills towards revenge.
We do have a great relationship. He is making decent grades at school, with a lot of help from me on keeping on top of things and studying. He is on the computer a lot more than is healthy for a kid his age, but at least he’s doing the dumb things he needs to do, and I have come to terms with that. You pick your battles.
My only personal complaint is that even after things have gotten so much better with him, with my newfound parenting technique of not flipping out, is that the emotional energy required to *not* flip out is still astronomical for me. So several times a day, at unpredictable times, he will start shrieking about something absurd, and it’s my job to be calm and not strangle him. ;)
So while things are so much better for Connor, and everyone else in his life by extension, *I* feel like I’m part of some awful experiment where I go about my day, and at any random time, I might get painfully shocked, and it’s completely out of my control. I am in a high state of anxiety all the time, but I have to remain calm. The randomness is so incredibly draining and stressful.
But he’s my son, and I see a light at the end of the tunnel, and so I will make it through the next few years. I hope =)
Wish me luck!
Thinking back on it, I have to break Connor’s life up into three-ish chapters (so far)
Chapter One:The Age Before Kids Have Long Term Responsibilities
Connor is hyper and self-centered, but in elementary school, for the most part, kids aren’t expected to do anything beyond the moment. In 5th grade he had a token project or two, but because it didn’t count for the bulk of his grade, he could coast by on sloppy classwork and great test grades.
From a parenting standpoint, Connor is an aggravation, serious at times, but it’s tolerable. He had bursts of anger which would result in very inappropriate behavior. I’d assign consequences to those behaviors, and at times, he would refuse THOSE, which of course resulted in more consequences, and sometimes things got out of hand, sometimes for as long as a couple of weeks.
The times when he was NOT blowing up, though, he was bright and charming and funny and helpful.
Around 5th grade, he developed more of a fixation on computers than he’d had before (and what he’d had before was significant, so that much of my parenting energies was spent on controlling screen time.)
And this brings us to . . .
Chapter Two: CONNOR WANTS WHAT HE WANTS AND NO MORE!!
My efforts to help Connor grow up, evidence some self-control, be responsible enough to be in school and sleep reasonable hours resulted in more conflicts between us, more outbursts from him, and more consequences.
By the time the summer between elementary school and middle school came around, I had one wish for his behavior. . . . that he not stay up all night. I figured if I could get him sleeping on a normal schedule, the rest would fall into place.
So I told him that over the summer, his solitary job was to wake up by 8:30. If that happened, he’d get anything he wanted. Computer time all day, we’d go out and have fun, have friends over, get treats all day, go swimming - whatever. If he didn’t get up by 8:30, he’d have to work on his handwriting and write a few sentences about the importance of waking up on time, the number of repetitions increased depending on how much later he woke up. After writing the sentences, he would be allowed to play on the computer for a couple of hours.
You may be able to tell how desperate I was at this point. =P
My hope was that the reward would be so attractive to him that he would at LEAST force himself to wake up in the morning, even if he was exhausted all day. That would make it easy for him to fall asleep at night and then get him on a reasonable schedule.
Instead what happened was that he just refused. He did not like the writing at all, so spent all day on “the torture mat” at my feet, where I spent every waking minute of every day trying to get him to just get his consequence over with so he could move on to play time and his 2 hours. He basically would waste his whole day protesting this, and it eventually got to the point where he had so much to write (thanks to waking late and consequences for not doing his writing) that it was impossible for him to do it all.
Over an entire summer, he woke up on time all of three days. The rest of the summer he spent torturing ME for the audacity I had, trying to make him do something he didn’t want to do. And also coming up with fiendish clever ways to get on the computer after we went to bed.
Chapter Two-Point-Five: Middle School
I wrote a long rant about this at some point, I believe. I did a reboot with the consequences and told him his job was to maintain B’s in his classes, with as much of my help as I could offer. I communicated with his poor teachers a lot, I monitored his web pages, I checked his homework and projects.
For his part, he developed fiendish ways to make it look like he’d done his homework, perfected the art of lying, and came up with even more fiendish ways to get on a device or stay up late doing what he wanted. In classes he was impossible. If he was bored, he would create a scene. If he didn’t want to do work, he simply didn’t. End of story. What could the teachers do? They can’t touch him . . .
I met with teachers and administration at the school a LOT. Out of the thousands of kids they’d seen, there was never one quite like Connor, I was told =P
At home, I tried to offer rewards enough and supply consequences enough for his bad behaviors that he should have been happy to spend the few minutes a day doing the dumb things he needed to do, but no luck. It got to a point where he was destroying my house, because he could. I had no way of making him reimburse me, and when I tried to get him to help repair or clean up his messes, he would go on to make more and more spectacular messes. Oh, we have SO many holes in my walls and damaged cabinetry =P
At this stage, my life was a never ending battle of wits and wills with him. Both of us were miserable and angry all the time. Connor always claiming that his behavior was out of his control, and me thinking “Bulls***, you had to spend a lot of time coming up with these plans to get computer access while I was asleep, for one thing, you little ass” (I was beyond using polite language in my thoughts at this point!)
Thinking about Connor’s temperament, I honestly could not envision a future that did not end in death or jail for him. We tried all different psychologists, various psychiatric help, social classes, reward and punishment systems, and it was all for nothing.
Chapter Three: All Praise Psychiatry and Parenting Flexibility!
Around the time I was asking Connor’s psychiatrist who I could call to get legal advice on what I was allowed to do to this kid (I was wondering if I could handcuff him to me while he should be sleeping, no kidding) she suggested that we try drugging him to sleep at night, more or less.
I felt very weird about doing that, for some reason. Looking back, I wish I’d started it a lot earlier.
We started giving him pills at night that would make him very drowsy. He could still fight sleep, but he could only fight it so long, and so he started going to bed at a reasonable hour, therefore waking at a reasonable hour, getting enough sleep, feeling generally better about things, and basically everything started to turn around, here.
Not long after this, we also got a diagnosis from a neuropsychologist that verified that he is on the Autism spectrum. This didn’t come as a surprise to anyone. (I mean, ALL of us are on the spectrum, because it’s a spectrum) But somehow, between the official diagnosis and his newfound ability to not stay up all night basically NOT SLEEPING, I was able to make myself accept some things about him.
Connor is something like The Incredible Hulk, only (thank god) without the superpowers that go along with the transformation.
A few times a day, something will frustrate or enrage him. I’ve asked him to pick his socks up off the floor, or come to dinner, or other traumas along those lines . . .
At this point, Connor Hulks out and starts screaming. “I PICKED UP SOCKS YESTERDAY,” or “I JUST STARTED A GAME WITH MY FRIEND BECAUSE I FORGOT YOU TOLD ME 15 MINUTES AGO WE’D EAT IN 15 MINUTES!!!!”
Now, old me would have Mom-Hulked out, because SERIOUSLY?? This level of response over something so silly? So I would sternly chide him, and he would scream back at me, and the cycle (hours to weeks long) would begin.
But now I just let him scream, and when he’s gotten it out, repeat what I said. I say it very calmly, or even with a joke. He might whine at this point, or he might scream again. In any case, I just calmly wait, and say it again.
Eventually, he just transforms back into Connor and does what he’s supposed to do. What’s weird is that he’s very chipper and cute about it at this point, as if all that other stuff didn’t happen. He always apologizes, and it seems sincere.
Because we are not constantly at each other’s throats, his general attitude is a LOT better with me. He wants to help out around the house. He wants to get his school work done (maybe, sometimes) because he enjoys the praise he gets for doing okay. (Also, I’ve promised him that if he ever gets perfect grades, I’ll get him a VR system, so that might be helping. =P)
So I just had to a) get him sleeping so he could actually function and b) realize that he really CAN’T control these outbursts, and leverage the fact that he CAN and DOES recover from his rage very very quickly, and still does what he needs to do.
Life is SO much better with him. I can now picture a decent future for him. I can now enjoy time with him (a lot, actually.) He’s making B’s in all his classes. He’s very affectionate with the family.
I still have trouble imagining him functioning on his own, but I’m told he may just be emotionally delayed, and will grow out of his Hulkiness at some point. I’m also told that the fact that we are not hating each other always is the most important factor in his chances for future success, because often kids in his shoes DO mature, but at that point, their familial relationships are so damaged at that point that the kids turn their new skills towards revenge.
We do have a great relationship. He is making decent grades at school, with a lot of help from me on keeping on top of things and studying. He is on the computer a lot more than is healthy for a kid his age, but at least he’s doing the dumb things he needs to do, and I have come to terms with that. You pick your battles.
My only personal complaint is that even after things have gotten so much better with him, with my newfound parenting technique of not flipping out, is that the emotional energy required to *not* flip out is still astronomical for me. So several times a day, at unpredictable times, he will start shrieking about something absurd, and it’s my job to be calm and not strangle him. ;)
So while things are so much better for Connor, and everyone else in his life by extension, *I* feel like I’m part of some awful experiment where I go about my day, and at any random time, I might get painfully shocked, and it’s completely out of my control. I am in a high state of anxiety all the time, but I have to remain calm. The randomness is so incredibly draining and stressful.
But he’s my son, and I see a light at the end of the tunnel, and so I will make it through the next few years. I hope =)
Wish me luck!