The other day I experienced one of those moments in life where you know for sure something you have always felt has indeed been correct.
I have always loved my sons craziness, his energy, his thought process, his vibrancy, his inquisitiveness and his general nuttiness. I've always known that it's not quite 'normal' and that it's the reason he can be so trying and intense. But at the same time I've always been extremely proud of how full on he is, how un-boring he is, how adventurous he is and.... how happy he is.
For a few months now we have been trialling Ritalin to help Paxton at school. It was a decision that took a lot of procrastination and investigation, sleepless nights and sleepless days. My head was like a Gravitron of thoughts where at any moment one of my thoughts may just puke all over the other thoughts on the matter. But when the ride was all over and no one had puked, I made the decision to give it a go.
It has worked well for school. It hasn't fixed all of the issues, not even close, but we didn't expect it to. (You can't place to many expectations on such a small white unassuming little tablet...) but it has helped. However, the paediatrician said that he didn't have to take the medication on weekends or holidays, so up until now he hasn't been having it on weekends, just at school. Last week, for certain reasons, we decided to trial him taking it each day.
On Saturday we went out for the morning with family. Nothing major, just coffee and some shopping. This outing alone has made me realise that I love my son just the way he is and I DO NOT like medication. Yes I understand that it serves its purpose, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.
The medication lasts about 4 hours. We started the morning by picking up Poppy (his great grandfather). While we were at the nursing home Paxton was quiet, well behaved, no running, no jumping, hardly any talking and just wanted lots of cuddles. Then we went out for coffee where Paxton sat for about an hour nice and quietly, stayed in his chair, didn't talk over the top of everyone, didn't interrupt when people were talking, ate his sandwich, drank his hot chocolate, didn't whinge or complain that he was bored. Then we went to the shops for about half an hour to get Poppy a few things. It was during this half hour that I noticed the old Paxton coming back. He started talking NON STOP, he was jumping, and loud, and running and I had to talk to him every 5 seconds about being a bit quieter or not to run, or to watch where he was going, or not to tug at Poppy's arm so hard.
One would think that I would like to be able to sit at a café and not have to talk to him every 30 seconds, not have to stop him from getting up and down a million times because he cant sit still, not have to remind him to wait until someone is finished talking before he talks, not to have to get up and go and do a time out because he hasn't listened. One would think that being nice and quiet and well behaved in the nursing home is a good thing. One would think that having him walk nicely and calmly next to my trolley would be nice instead of him running EVERYWHERE like he is the Flash reincarnated, and not having him talking non stop at a hundred miles an hour incessantly would be a nice change for me.... Let me tell you, NO!
My morning was horrible... and heartbreaking.
At the nursing home he would normally run into Poppy's room and yell at him to wake up Poppy! and then he would touch everything in there whilst talking at a hundred miles an hour. This morning, he barely had 10 words to say, and when Poppy talked to him he certainly didn't get his half hour long responses that contain more descriptive words than a year 12 English essay. Normally he would strike up a conversation with the nurses and the other patients, but not today. He didn't beg to go in the elevator or to have a go of the buttons for poppy's bed.
My coffee was boring and quiet. I didn't have conversations about smoke alarms, fire extinguishers or where they might plug in all their appliances behind the counter. I ate my sandwich without having to once get up off my chair. My coffee was still hot by the time I got to it...
I will happily take the negatives that come with Autism and ADHD any day to have my energetic, talkative, bouncy, imaginative, obsessive, interesting little boy in my life.
My Paxton was back and this is how I like him.
