…although J loved having his time as his own, and by focusing on play and being friendly when we were around kids and limiting social encounters to supervised situations he actually jumped a grade level or two in terms of his social skills, he also never, ever chose to read or write or explore mathematical concepts like telling time or money or simple addition and subtraction – the kind you need to understand the world around you. I could tell that if I let him, he’d be in that shop for years, banging away on boards, stealing his daddy’s tools, and the thought of that made me really, really uncomfortable.
Also, knowing what I know about his brain and his lack of short term memory and his deficits in language processing (if you don’t know me from this blog already, you should know that J. doesn’t “just” have ADHD, but has FASD – Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder – which is the umbrella diagnosis covering his ADHD, SPD, bipolar, borderline intelligence, dysgraphia, poor working memory, processing disorder, etcetera, etcetera.) made me concerned that if he wasn’t using what he knew, he’d lose it. And he wasn’t likely to simply “pick up” reading skills and math skills like average intelligence children would in an unschooling situation.
So we started up school again. The day after Labor Day. The first couple weeks were rough, followed by a full month where we were in the groove – he’d read to me, cooperate with whatever other academic tasks I’d set up for him, and he even learned how to add double-digits using an abacus. In October we’d generally have 3 good, productive days out of the 5. And by “productive” I mean he’d do what I asked for about an hour and a half a day. That was our school day. An hour and a half. The rest of the time he banged on boards in the shed, accompanied me and his brother to homeschooling activities, and enjoyed a great deal of free time. I figured if that was what school was going to be like for him, then it was okay with me. Success.
It was hard on me, don’t get me wrong. He is an intense child and has many social deficits, not to mention negative behaviors, and it took all my energy to be around him all day long – and some days I didn’t quite make it. And I have a company to run. And I help with my husband’s business. And I have another child, and a husband, and a house…you get the picture.
And then, one day, he refused.
Three days of work each week went to maybe one day, and the rest of the time we’d spend fighting about what he should be doing, how I was mean, and how I never let him do anything fun. I wasn’t willing to go back to the way things had been in the spring, and he wasn’t willing to do anything academic.
Now, instead of J learning and thriving and being successful as a way of showing that the sacrifices I was making in my work, my family, my health, and my emotional well-being was all worthwhile – there was nothing. There was refusal, and oppositionality, and name-calling and frustration.
And then, one day, I decided that I’d had enough.
After fighting about it and having a miserable several weeks and racking my brain as to how to MAKE him read with me and MAKE him practice writing and MAKE him learn math I finally offered him an out: either do the work with me or go to school.
“I want to go to school.”
Every couple of days I would test his decision.” Do you want to do work with me or go to school?”
“School.”
And so, Tuesday of last week, he went back to school. Not back to the elementary school that hadn’t helped him, but to a non-traditional, tiny, private school that helps kids with special needs like his.
And so far, so good. He seems to like the school well enough, although he definitely misses the homeschool activities and working on projects in the shed. But maybe more importantly at this point, I finally, finally feel like I can breathe again. Not being around such an intensely needy child is allowing me to be a much better parent to him when I am around him. Much better. I don’t constantly feel like I’ve had it up to here. I can put up with it, and be reflective about the best way to react and the best way to help him learn and understand. I am happy to give the reins to someone else for a while.
I don’t regret homeschooling him, but I sure don’t miss it!
Adrienne Ehlert Bashista lives in central North Carolina with her husband and 2 boys, ages 8 and 11. Her interest in ADHD comes from parenting her youngest child, who has that diagnosis as well as a couple of other co-morbid conditions. Her personal website is adriennebashista.net, and she is also the co-editor of Easy to Love but Hard To Raise: Real Parents, Challenging Kids, True Stories, which has a blog of its own as well as a Facebook page! She also writes about parenting a child with FASD here: A Square Peg, A Round Hole.