Dylan came downstairs on Saturday morning – morning, not afternoon – 100% showered, clean hair, dressed and ready to go.
We weren’t going anywhere.
Then he did his Saturday jobs – a few simple chores that the kids are required to do once a week. As far as I know, Dylan has never – until this past Saturday – done any of his Saturday jobs without being reminded. And usually by the time he gets around to doing his “Saturday” jobs, it’s Sunday. Or even Monday.
But on this day, he did all of his Saturday jobs immediately.
Then he did his weekly vacuuming. He does one floor one week, one floor the next week. This week was the “upstairs” week – so, without being told, he got the vacuum, took it upstairs, and vacuumed the entire floor.
I was still in my pajamas, unshowered, watching this happen. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
After all of that, Dylan went into the kitchen, took his vitamins and made himself breakfast.
It was a little bit like living with an adult – a mature, responsible adult, who does his part and knows how to take care of himself.
I don’t understand it, but I sure do like it.
I can’t imagine that this will ever end.
My teenager insists that he is being responsible. I’ve given him a list of maybe forty things that need to be done consistently, that will prove that he’s responsible.
Dylan doesn’t do those things. Yet, he insists he is responsible.
“The substrate in your crab tank needs to be changed every six months,” I told him – three years ago. He never changed it. So I put it on the list, “Change crab tank” – to be done “by July 13.”
On July 12, since he’d made no effort to do even a little bit of changing the crab tank early, I highlighted the entry on the list, and left it by his door overnight. Still, he did nothing.
At 3:15 in the afternoon, I reminded Dylan about the crab tank. In spite of myself, I reminded him to get it done. The note outside his door was insufficient. The highlighted list was insufficient. The original list was insufficient. The reminders throughout the years were all insufficient.
Dylan said, “I’ll do that right now.” Because now, his back was up against the wall. Prove that you’re responsible. DO the crab tank by the end of TODAY! There were no more excuses; there was no more time to delay. Dylan hadn’t done it, and now he had no choice but to do it.
Unfortunately, crabs molt. And when they are molting, they can’t be disturbed. So having three years (and six weeks) to add substrate was also insufficient. A crab was molting, so the crab tank was not going to get done ON July 13.
Dylan panicked. “I looked it up,” he said, making yet another excuse to “prove” that he’s responsible. “I can still do it today and it won’t hurt the crabs.” (It’s always good to find a place on the internet that agrees with you.)
I pointed out that Dylan also didn’t do other things on the list. He was supposed to be regularly practicing for the SAT tests in the fall. Dylan claims that he has done that several times this summer. (Odd that he’s never done it when I was around.)
He was supposed to wear his retainer every night. The list said it “should feel weird going to bed without it.” I can count the number of times on one hand that Dylan’s worn his retainer. In fact, when he went away for a week, he didn’t even bother to take it with him. Dylan’s response? “I made a plan by myself that will help me remember to wear my retainer.” It’s been more than a year since Dylan stopped wearing braces. And he’s just now devised a plan that will help? I sure hope this one works!
Dylan’s also supposed to not be using his phone during family times. When I pointed out that he was still lapsing into phone usage during family times, he denied, denied, denied. “Whenever you tell me to put it away, I do!”
So, the way Dylan sees it, the list says:
- Clean crab tank whenever it’s convenient for you (which is really never)
- Practice for SAT tests once in awhile, and only when trying to prove that you’re responsible
- Wear your retainer whenever you remember (which is almost never)
- Make a plan to wear your retainer, which should hold Mom at bay for awhile
- Put phone away quickly when asked during family times
This is not the way I wrote the list. And yes, I remember the blog I wrote a few weeks ago, about his ADHD behaviors making him seem irresponsible.
It’s no less frustrating.
We are nearly exhausting ourselves with GREAT things to do to make sure we’re not bored during “no electronics” time.
We have played charades, Zombie Fluxx, Sorry, Rat-a-Tat Cat, Whoonu, Apples to Apples, Family Feud and Zooreka. We’ve even played a version of the Game of Things, which Dylan had to make since we didn’t own the actual board game. Board games seem to be our first choice of things to do when we’re bored – and even Dylan has been on board.
We’ve seen three matinee movies and gone out for ice cream twice afterward. Two of the three were even good movies! We’ve also had movie nights at home. Dylan’s worked a lot at his job, and Shane’s done a lot of volunteer work for community service hours.
We’ve gone kayaking and seen free concerts AND Shakespeare in the park. The kids have hung out at the mall, and I’ve been actually taking some time to read my book – like I do on beach vacations sometimes. I’ve done laundry a bit more willingly than I did when I wasn’t using the computer, although I haven’t done it nearly fast enough for my liking.
We’ve gone to lots of baseball games (mostly because Shane is the mascot) and I’ve played lots of softball. Thanks to my parents, there’s been bowling and ping pong and an all-day amusement area. Today, we’re heading into Washington, D.C. – a place we rarely visit, even though we’re half an hour away – to see an interactive art exhibit. Oh, and on the side, we met an absolutely wonderful author who spent the afternoon with us.
We didn’t want to be bored. As a result, we are utterly exhausted. We are doing a lot! Some people would say it’s maybe even too much.
I can’t say that all of this activity is a bad thing. Sometimes it makes life feel like it’s going too fast. But most of the time, even though life is flying by, without the electronic interference, I’m enjoying every minute of it as it flies.
Our first week on electronics restriction was an easy one.
We have determined that we will have four-hour blocks, four days a week, when no electronics are allowed. Somehow we circumvented this entirely, while still following the “rules.”
The first day, we played a game of charades – then Shane headed out to an amusement park with his cousins, and Dylan took his driving test. The next day, we went to see a movie. (Somehow, this still seems electronic.) Then Dylan spent two days touring D.C., while Shane and I played lots of board games, and went to the library.
When our non-restricted time came, we did not actually race to use the computer. Surprisingly, we’ve gotten used to doing less on the computer and more with each other.
One day, Dylan made lunch for his brother – actually cooked – and then cleaned the kitchen. Then he went to the mall with friends. I played softball. Shane read a couple of books, which not only fulfilled a summer homework requirement, but prepared him to meet a local author.
The hardest thing for me is when I don’t know something, I want to look it up online. But I can’t. I started keeping a list of things to look up next to the computer, but (surprise!) by the time I was “allowed” to look them up, I didn’t care about the answers anymore.
At one point, I needed to return some shoes to Zappos, which is notorious for its exceptional customer service (and the best way to buy shoes, in my opinion). I got special permission (from Shane) to look up the phone number, so I could call them – rather than doing the bulk of the return online.
“May I have the order number, please?” asked the customer service representative.
“No,” I stammered. “I would, but we’re having ‘no electronics time’ in our house and….”
“No worries,” said the rep. “At my house, we have ‘no electronics’ time and we eat dinner together five nights a week. If anyone even looks at their phone during those times, I get to keep it for a week.”
She is raising four teenagers – so to say that she understood would be an understatement. She looked up the order numbers for me.
Overall, it’s gone rather well – so far. Dylan actually said he was looking forward to having the time off – and has been staying surprisingly close to us for family games and such. During movie night this weekend, he didn’t even bring his phone to the show.
In a few weeks, the kids go off to camp for a whole week without electronics. Last year, it was the most productive, wonderful week of their summer. And this year, they’ll be even better prepared.
While they’re gone, I plan on continuing the non-electronics restriction on myself. I’ve found that it is far more challenging for me than it has been for them.
After all the hoopla, all the arguments, all the waiting and all the chaos surrounding Dylan’s ability – or inability – to secure a time to take his Learner’s Permit test, and after he slept through his first one, he finally selected a second time slot. He chose 3:30 p.m. on July 3. He studied for two hours online before he went. It was a 25-question test, but Dylan took several 40-question sample tests in preparation. He even got together his (correct!) pile of materials the day before he went.
We all agreed that July 3 was a good choice, since it was the day before a holiday. We expected that many people would be on vacation that day – and that week – and wouldn’t want to be bogged down with a whole day at the MVA.
We were wrong. In fact, everyone in America thought that July 3 was the perfect day to go to the MVA. I dropped Dylan at the door and unsuccessfully circled the parking lot for ten minutes, finally giving up – only to luck into a prime spot while trying to park across the street. I went inside.
Things were equally crazy inside. Dylan was in a line – the right line, surprisingly – and he was probably 47th in that line. He had an appointment – but it seemed entirely unnecessary. No one asked him about an appointment time. After nine months of procrastination, it was astounding that they didn’t even ask if he had an appointment.
But we followed protocol. We sat together and joked about the insanity of it all. About two hours later, Dylan’s number was called and he was allowed to stand near the door, where he would be called in to take his test. Finally, a man emerged.
“Are you ready to take your test?” the man asked Dylan.
“Yeah,” Dylan said. They went inside.
I looked around the room, which was beginning to clear out. I found a bench, and sat down. I turned on my phone, and looked for a game to play while I was waiting. I only have one game, so it wasn’t tough to decide what to play. I clicked on the WordBrain app.
Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something startling.
It was Dylan, stepping slowly out of the testing room.
He got thrown out, I thought. He did something wrong and he got thrown out.
I jumped up. He motioned for me to sit down, but I was too nervous.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I couldn’t finish the test,” he said.
“What do you mean, you couldn’t finish? Did the computer break?”
“No,” he said. “After I got the first 22 questions right, it said, ‘Your test is complete.’ And it wouldn’t let me answer the last three questions.”
It took me a second to process this.
“You’re finished with your test already?” I nearly shrieked. “You were only in there for 35 seconds!”
“More like five minutes,” he said. “But yeah, I’m done.”
Another thought suddenly hit me: “And YOU PASSED!”
“Yep,” he said. “It was so easy!” (It’s amazing how easy something can be when you study for two hours beforehand.)
So my baby has his learner’s permit now.
Finally.
Since there is nothing we can do about it anyway, I have decided not to worry about alerting teachers to Shane’s possible malady. (It helps that it is summer and there are no teachers nearby.)
But I have also decided that we can tackle some of the issues that Shane presents, using a simple summer program. I’ve purchased a copy of The Executive Functioning Workbook for Teens. It should help us identify his problem areas and work on them.
So we read through Chapter 1, and Shane determined that his troublesome areas are primarily in organization.
The book is wonderful – specifically oriented to the tasks that teens need to do on a regular basis, and how to make them happen, especially if it’s been tough to make them happen prior to reading the book. It’s easy reading, and the activities are very do-able for anyone who takes the time to work through the book.
Best of all, the first chapter outlines the various problems – which you peruse and then circle – and one only needs to do the activities related to those problems. So you don’t spend a lifetime going through the workbook. The activities are concentrated toward whatever issues the reader might have. So Shane is working through the activities this summer, which will hopefully help him to stay on task and more organized during the school year.
However, as happens periodically in this family, I have identified a different child who is more in need of this workbook. And, on the heels of this realization, I am realizing that Dylan’s issues are so extreme that he wouldn’t be able to use the workbook. He simply doesn’t have the focus needed to get through it.
Still, I have decided to give Dylan a chance. Since he is morally and ethically on the right path, he only needs to tweak a few things to become a full-fledged, responsible adult. Maybe this workbook would help him!
And maybe he’ll throw it in the corner with all the other books I’ve given him over the years.
So I will let Shane use it first, and we’ll move forward with Dylan after that.
As Dylan gets ready for his second attempt to take his learner’s permit test, I have realized that I’m still angry at his dad about Dylan’s the first attempt.
Nearly a year after it was legal to do so, Dylan decided he would like to get his learner’s permit.
As I told him – nearly a year ago – he needed to make an appointment to take the test. I wasn’t asking for very much, I thought, since driving a 3,000-pound vehicle requires substantially more focus, concentration and ability than is required to make an appointment.
But Dylan couldn’t do it. For ten months, I told him to Google it. And for ten months, he told me that he needed help knowing what to Google.
I did not help him. I didn’t want him to be incapable of hopping onto the computer, typing in “learner’s permit” and figuring out how and when to take the test in Maryland. But one night, when Bill was in the midst of his drug-induced haze after surgery, Dylan brought up the subject again.
“Here,” Bill said, frustrated that Dylan seemed to have no clue – even though I’d told Bill and Dylan both – numerous times – that Dylan needed to do this one thing on his own.
Dylan didn’t do it on his own. Bill leapt up with his walker, followed Dylan to the computer, and said, “Look, click here.” Then, “Now click here.”
Soon, Dylan was in the exact right place on the World Wide Web to fill out an application and make an appointment. What a surprise! Bill knew exactly how to do it! So now Bill can take the learner’s permit test!
But no… Dylan filled out the paperwork, thanks to Bill’s guidance, so now Dylan believes he is thoroughly responsible enough to get behind the wheel of a car.
And our one chance – our only chance – to teach Dylan how to do something by himself is simply gone.
On our way to the National Institutes of Health, Dylan and I argued constantly.
“You need to be responsible,” I was saying.
“I am responsible,” he was saying. “Compared to everybody I know, I am the most responsible person there is! I don’t do drugs or drink or hurt other people. I don’t sneak out or skip school. I do everything I’m supposed to be doing! Why do you think I’m not responsible?”
I thought about all the times he did his school work, then didn’t turn it in. I thought about him sleeping through his alarm on the last day of school – and on the morning of his learner’s permit test. I thought about the huge projects he was supposed to do for school, when he waited until the last minute and put in minimum effort. I thought about him running out the door without any of the right stuff. I thought about him endlessly texting when he should have been studying.
“I have told you what you do that’s not responsible,” I said.
This has been a major point of contention between us for … well, forever. And here we were, facing it again, on our way into the National Institutes of Health.
Coincidentally (or not), we were going to the National Institutes of Health because Dylan has been taking part in a study for kids with ADHD. We’ve been doing this study for years. He takes tests and plays games and gets an MRI, and I fill out a bunch of paperwork.
But this time, I saw my paperwork in a brand new light. One familiar form was titled:
BEHAVIOR RATING INVENTORY OF EXECUTIVE FUNCTION
I had filled out this form many times since Dylan was in third grade. So I recognized it right away. It’s a list of 86 behaviors, and my job is to say whether Dylan does these things “OFTEN,” “SOMETIMES,” or “NEVER.”
The form mentions behaviors like…
…Does not check work for mistakes
…When given three things to do, remembers only the first or last
…Has good ideas but does not get job done
…Forgets to hand in homework, even when completed
…Blurts things out
…Has trouble getting started on homework or chores
…Written work is poorly organized
…Does not take initiative
…Becomes too silly
…Has a messy closet
…Has to be closely supervised
As I sat in the waiting room repeatedly circling “OFTEN” on this form, it hit me – hard: THIS is why I believed that Dylan was irresponsible.
While he is responsible with his major life choices – which is incredibly hard during the teen years – he still isn’t doing the small stuff. His larger choices – whether or not to drink alcohol or skip school, for example – are actually solid and positive. He’s doing a great job with the important stuff.
Dylan’s “irresponsible” behavior is irrevocably tied to his ADHD.
I looked at the form, and the list, and thought seriously about why I really believed Dylan was irresponsible. And it turns out, it’s almost entirely because he has ADHD.
So, while he needs to figure out a way to live with his issues (like homework and a messy closet), I need to give him credit for being as responsible as he can be, given his disorder. I need to recognize that he is responsible, that he just has some behaviors that he has to work on.
I can’t fix those things for him.
Things changed for me that morning. I recognized that the moral choices in life are the ones that matter, and that the small choices are his to make.
Dylan has just shipped off to West Virginia, along with his church group, to help those less fortunate. He will be gone for one week.
Last year, I missed him terribly, but it was a positive experience for him. This year, I already miss him terribly – and I assume it will be just as positive.
And I know one thing for certain: Dylan will work.
Dylan has a lot of positive attributes. He is smart, and can solve problems better than I ever will. He is wildly gifted in music. And he understands things at a level above a lot of people, because he sees the “big picture” in life. He’s empathetic and kind and generous and loyal. He is dedicated and believes in promises.
And when he works, he works hard. Dylan does not like to sit still, and no matter his brilliance, school is never going to be his thing because of that. The flip side is: when he is at work, he is likely to be the hardest worker there. Because he understands its importance, he gives all he’s got to a job.
He wanted to be a mascot at a “birds of prey” day at our local park once. He wasn’t old enough, but he asked anyway – and they put him to work. At age 13, Dylan did a great job, walking around as a giant hawk for several hours. And he didn’t take any breaks, even though it was nearly a hundred degrees.
But what astounded me was Dylan’s work after he took off the costume. I went to pick him up at the scheduled time, and Dylan stayed nearly half an hour extra, because there were still things to be done. He was directing traffic. He was folding and transporting chairs. He was running up and down a huge hill to help people carry boxes and tables. And he didn’t stop until it was all done.
And that was just a day in the park.
Now he is taking part in the Appalachian Service Project, which means he will be doing something even more important – and he knows it’s substantial. He knows that his week in this community will make a huge difference in the lives of its people. And that will only make him work harder.
I will miss him terribly. But it’s worth it, knowing how much Dylan will change the world.
I found it. I have identified Shane’s learning issue.
I think Shane has something called nonverbal learning disorder. It is rarely diagnosed because kids tend to do fine without it being diagnosed. The symptoms are all oddly fitting to Shane, and the largest of the symptoms is that the learning disorder has nothing to do with verbal skills.
Kids with nonverbal learning disorder generally are very intelligent, and have a large, solid vocabulary by a young age. But as they grow older, it’s sometimes noticeable that they miss social cues, take things too literally, and struggle with some subjects in school, especially math.
Shane hates math. He loves numbers and is very interested in number patterns and statistics, but math is hard for him. At one point, I thought he might have dyscalculia, which is like dyslexia with numbers. But he doesn’t have most of the dyscalculia symptoms.
And he fits the mold well. Here’s some of the description of kids with nonverbal learning disorder by Leslie Packer, PhD:
“They may have outstanding rote memory skills and attention to auditory detail…. Do not let their strong rote memory or attention to detail mislead you: these children ‘see every tree but can’t understand a forest.’ Although they may have an excellent retention of material presented orally, they don’t always comprehend or ‘get’ the subtleties and nuances of language. Impaired in problem-solving skills, they may fail to apply or generalize previously learned skills to new situations or materials…. Visual-spatial deficits are also reflected in poor visual recall, faulty space perceptions, and poor sense of directionality…. Poor comprehension of visually presented material is one of the hallmark characteristics of NLD, and there is often (but not always) a significant Verbal IQ – Performance IQ discrepancy on intelligence tests.”
He does have most of the symptoms of nonverbal learning disorder – except two. He is not clumsy or uncoordinated, which is commonly (but not always) associated with this disorder. He does have the horrific handwriting also associated with NLD.
BUT… Shane had vision processing therapy, which specifically worked on coordination issues. So he is substantially less uncoordinated than he would have been without therapy.
The more I read about this particular disorder, in fact, the more I think Shane has it – and the more I think I might have it as well. Something about being incapable of solving simple problems… it’s like I lack common sense. Maybe this is why!
Or maybe neither one of us has it.
The really interesting thing is: we can’t treat it anyway. It is recommended that those who have it … just learn to adapt.
