This week has been forever and a flash, all at once. I was going to do a rundown of my week, but honestly, I can't really remember Monday or Tuesday. And if you knew me in real life, you would know that this totally isn't like me. I used to have the ability to remember every day of my life, from about the age of three to present day. I lost that talent around 21, because it just became too many days. So yeah, I'm like Marilu Henner, but unsure as to whom to call for my freakazoid accolades.
(Thank GOD for Facebook. I can look back at my status updates and remember what I was doing. What happened to that feature where they put my status update for that day in 2009 and 2010? That was pretty cool.)
Report cards come home today, and honestly, I don't even want to open Hoover's. I feel just as nervous as when I brought home my first D on a report card. (It was in 6th grade. And yes, "first" means there was more than one in my educational career. )
Hoover has been on meds now for three weeks. I'm not sure if there's any difference, as most of the time he's at school while on them. His teacher has noticed minimal difference, a few papers here or there completed, but nothing consistent.
He also has no concept of time. If I ask him if he got work done that day, he'll tell me about a worksheet he did. And then I learn that worksheet he's talking about is from a week ago. He also tells me he got in trouble when he hasn't (because it was a few days ago) and vice versa.
We've also started giving him his medicine at lunch time, which for right now means either Disgruntled Husband or I drive to school and give it to him. There's paperwork to have the school do this, but it's lost in my van right now, plus his medicine has to be in the prescription bottle, and somehow, Walgreens has a problem with us having a duplicate prescription filled of a controlled substance with a high street value.
|Have you met my son?|
The down-side to his afternoon dose is that it seems to have some weird side-effects. He'll go to sleep fine, but then wake up about midnight and roam the house like a drunk cat. One night this week, he crawled into bed with DH and me and talked to me for what seemed like hours. Then, at 7 a.m., he came in with a big box of neatly stacked cash and told us to look at his money.
(It was from Larry Potter's lemonade stand in September...we don't normally keep stacks of cash around.)
(Hoover has also been truly obsessed with money for the past few months.)
After we caught him lying about it ("No, it's from my whole life, Mom. And I've had a loooong life."),
and put it back, I recalled a note I got from his teacher the first day he had his medicine in the afternoon. He stole something from some math kit at school and only when his friend ratted him out did he admit it and give it back.
Great. Ritalin is either turning my kid into a klepto or making it happen sooner than it normally would have.
Last night was LP's belt test at karate. Because DH and I wanted to both see this, we brought everyone.
In the first 15 minutes, Hoover gave himself a bloody lip and accosted three people for food.
Fifteen minutes after that, Hoover and Mini Me had to extracted out of the room for fighting. Hoover did not go willingly.
The next 15 minutes it was quiet, and I was able to concentrate on LP. (DH was watching from a window in another room.)
The final 15 minutes, when LP got his new gold belt and had pictures taken, Hoover ran around the dojo like the Tazmanian Devil. No, not embarrassing at all.
The belt test was the longest hour of my life.
We see the doctor again on Monday. Thank God, because I'm out of creative parenting ideas.