Dear Gwen,
Today you are seventy-eight months old - six
and a half years.
It’s been an astounding month, and I can’t
find any way to write this letter without talking about the truly game-changing
news we received this month, which is that you have ADHD. It’s not exactly a
surprise, but it has shed a lot of light on who you are and how your brain
works. The past few weeks I have been doing a lot of reading about ADHD and
your behaviour and abilities are certainly well-reflected in the literature.
Sometimes my reading leads me to major revelations, as seen in the following
email I sent to your Dad a couple of weeks ago:
Just read online that
“ADHD kids have trouble learning from past experiences.” OMG THIS EXPLAINS
EVERYTHING.
And now, a short play that has been
witnessed in our household approximately seven million times:
Gwen: *exhibits undesirable behaviour*
Me: Man, this behaviour is undesirable! How
can we teach her not to do that?
Internet/Parenting Book/Knowledgeable
Friend/Family Member/Magazine Article: Just introduce the following consequence
whenever she exhibits that behaviour. Believe me, you won’t have to do it more
than a couple of times before she gets the message!
Gwen: *exhibits undesirable behaviour*
Me: *introduces consequence*
Gwen: *is terribly upset but refuses to
change behaviour*
Fin.
So, a lot of the frustrations and confusion
we have had about your behaviour has been explained. We still don’t know what
to do about it, but hopefully all
these books and websites I am reading will help.
In the meantime, really, you haven’t
changed at all, though our perception and understanding of you has grown a lot
and will continue to do so.
Your Grade One year is well underway, and
Dad and I were thrilled to learn that a good friend of ours, Kim, is your
teacher for the year. She is a great teacher and a lovely person and I know
that she will be great at creating accommodations for you. So far your year is
going well, although there have been some bumps. We are starting to see some
social problems which are upsetting for all of us. Your intensity and need for
control, your hair-trigger temper, and your obliviousness to social cues – all
of which are part of the ADHD package – are far less tolerated by your peers
than they were last year, and you are experiencing frequent rejection. It’s
heartbreaking to see or hear about. In some cases, your obliviousness prevents
you from seeing that you’ve been rejected – for example, we saw you at your
after-school club being instructed by some other kids that your “job” in the
game was to run away from them to the farthest tree and then wait there for
more instructions. Their game had nothing to do with running or trees – they
just wanted to get rid of you. And you complied, enthusiastically, because you
are so eager to be accepted. Clearly, we have a lot of work ahead of us.
Your academics, on the other hand, continue to be strong. In fact, your doctor feels that you may well be gifted. I confess that I didn’t understand until recently that “gifted” is a real concept that can be tested and valuated. Unfortunately, we don’t know yet how to go about having this giftedness tested, as the schools do not provide that testing. I am determined that we need to do everything in our power to make sure you are able to reach your potential, which I am convinced is great.
In your last newsletter I mentioned that
you are really enjoying gymnastics, and this continues to be true. I hope these
classes are giving you some positive strategies about being in your body and
controlling your movements. Your piano lessons have started again, and this
year you are in private one-on-one classes with your first MYC teacher, Mrs. H.
She is absolutely amazing and you are blooming in this environment. After
watching you struggle so hard last year to stay on task and hear the teacher
while five other kids (and their parents) provided a constant level of noise
and distraction, it is a joy to see you and Mrs. H. work together. The fact
that your lesson time is all yours means that Mrs. H. can meet you where you
are at and tailor things to suit your needs, without having to “keep up” with
anyone else. I’m so very, very glad we took this step. Here are some of the
moments from your first month of piano class.
At your second lesson, while sitting at the
adult-size piano, you dropped your pencil on the floor and immediately crawled
under the bench to get it. Once on the floor, you became interested in the
pedals and began to press them. Mrs. H. quickly adapted. While the pedals are
not part of the curriculum until you are a few years older, she saw that you
were interested and went with it. “Listen to this note. Now hold the pedal down
while I play it again. How did the note change?” The two of you spent a minute
or so on this and then she re-directed you back up to the piano to continue the
lesson. I was in awe! She could have spent two minutes arguing with you, or one
minute meeting you where you were and following your interest, then going back
to what she intended to teach that day. I was so impressed!
Another tale of success at piano was
actually my contribution. Again while sitting at the adult-size piano, I could
see your feet swinging around, reaching down towards the floor, which then
pulled your torso out of balance and made it hard to play the keys. Having
shared a bazillion mealtimes with you, I knew what the problem was: it was
bugging you not to have a place to rest your feet (as they don’t reach the
floor while sitting up properly). I looked around and saw a small stool by the
door, and suggested to you that we put it under the piano as a footrest. This
had the extra benefit of preventing you from fidgeting with those fascinating
foot pedals. These are the types of accommodations you need in all of your
daily activities, and it’s just a matter of us figuring out what they are and
convincing the people around you to help us implement them.
Well, I guess that’s it for this month,
Gwen. I am fiercely proud of you, entirely in love with you, and so
grateful to be your mom.
Mama