Life In Hyperspace, revisited...

Life In Hyperspace is a book I've been meaning to write on these misadventures with my family, and I'm finally getting traction on it.

Some of the chapters in the book will reflect stories you can find on the pages of this blog, and some of them you have never heard. Unless you lived them, with my family.

I've shared some of these laughs with coworkers and extended family, and they've all said I should put this in a book. Or a Movie. Or a reality TV show.

Well, I couldn't possibly let TV cameras into the home. Besides the fact that we have the usual ADD clutter issues we don't want to share on TV, I couldn't cover the liability to their cameras, laptops and sanity as my kids bounce off the walls around them.

But putting it in a book is safe enough.

Just for fun, I'll put the lead-in here to whet some appetites:


Only in Our House…
“What do you mean, is Clear Coat poisonous?”
My wife paused. “You left the spray can out after you were done with the Grand Prix car.”
I took a deep breath. “And?”
“And, well, John spraypainted the cat.”
I gripped the steering wheel. “He what?”
“You mentioned this morning that his coat looked dull. He was just trying to help.”
“The can was almost empty. Brush his coat to pull off as much as you can.” I hung up and shook my head, staring ahead at the evening rush hour traffic.
Spraypainting the cat? What was he thinking?

After about five minutes, the phone rang again.
“Hey honey. Did you get the cat cleaned off?”
“How far out are you?” She sounded troubled.
“About five minutes, I think. Why?”
“Want to meet us at the hospital? Rachel almost cut her finger off in the van door.”
I swallowed. “What?”
Rachel’s voice cut in. “I was looking for the DVD remote like you asked me.”
“In the van?”
Justin called out from the background. “It’s pretty bad, Dad. We’ve stopped the bleeding, but you can see bone!”
My head swam. “Justin, you know how I am about blood. I’m driving on the expressway.”
Rebecca took a deep breath. “I’m taking her to the E.R. Want to meet us there?”
“I’ll be home in three.”

Fast Food and Feingold

Today, boys and girls, we're going to have a word about Fast Food and Feingold.

As parents of ADHD kids, on a budget no less, early on we investigated non-medication methods for treating the wonderful adverse symptoms of... hey, is that a butterfly?

MWHAHAHA... Now that I have lost your attention...
One of the treatments we investigated is diet. Specifically, the Feingold Diet. The principle behind the diet is that we have lots of additives in our food that companies have put in there to make it fresher, brighter, tastier, and, well, many other ERs.

Food companies are in the business of making money. It's what they do, and why they exist, and we shouldn't shame them for it. After all, they employ a LOT of us, including now my oldest son, yay, he got a JOB!

But in order to make money, they need to pull out the sugar, which is kinda expensive, and replace it with Corn Syrup, which is also now kind of expensive, since we run our CARS on it. (go figure...). And they add BHT (Does anybody even know or care what that stands for??) to the packaging so that your cereal will stay fresher longer, meaning more can be on the shelf for you, and it can have a sell-by date many months in the future, rather than, like, next week...

Because you like your food brighter, they add artificial colors, like Red Dye #5. Or Yellow Dye #2. Sort of like Crayola, except you eat this stuff. Really, you DO. Just read the label on the stuff you're eating now while reading this. Those ingredients are just a tad scary.

So, these companies had the bright idea to add all this stuff into the food you eat. Nobody, not even the FDA, had a really good idea what that might do to you over the long haul, but they tested it out on mice and prisoners and some folks from Bug Guts MS, and there were no real ill effects. Right.

So, the basis on the Feingold Diet is to eat fresh food, and avoid all that other stuff you don't really need in you, because believe it or not, it really does seem to affect your brain. That's right, the effects of those chemicals affect your brain.

Anyway, lest I ramble further, we tried the Feingold Diet (There was an entrance fee for their book and subscription to their newsletter and website and some other goodies, and believe it or not, the DIET WORKED. Bringing a verse to mind, Psalm 34:8.

 

Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good;
Blessed is the man who trusts in Him!

I came into work after two weeks on the diet, and my head was clear for the first time in, like, ever, and I could actually think faster, talk slower, react more calmly, and in general was no fun anymore for my coworkers, who enjoyed my daily rants. One of them actually stopped me outside her office and said, "Ok, who are you, and what have you done with Chris??"

One of my coworkers actually started dropping by my office before staff meetings and giving me a Snickers Bar and a Mountain Dew so I would be good and wound up before our weekly staff meetings.

 

That's right, my coworkers sabotaged the diet, because I was no fun anymore.

Also, though the diet does not seem expensive, it actually is. You see, companies can sell cheaper food, well, cheaper, because fresh, natural, organic food is harder to grow, doesn't stay fresh as long, and therefore, costs more.

So now, we've got all the kids on medication, but one thing the diet DID do for us is give us a hunger for fresh food. So, while we do occasionally stop at McDonalds or Wendys for fast food, when we head to the grocery store, we usually try to pick up organics like apples and salad stuff.

So this weekend Rebecca came home with a bag of apples, intending to put them in a bowl on the table. But by the time she got a bowl out, this was all that was left...

Now, THAT's what I call FAST FOOD.

Cats, Controlled Substances, and Coffee

It's been a long long while since I posted to this blog, but something happened yesterday that applies to the whole ADHD thing, and I decided to chuck another post here, which I will probably cross-post to my writing site, creativeadventuring.BlogSpot.com


Cats
So, we have a lot of cats. I used to NOT be a cat person, more of a DOG person growing up, since our family had three dogs while I was growing up, and one cat (if I remember correctly, that got distemper and my pseudo-vet sister nursed it through by giving it droppers of Gatorade.)

But that was then, this is now. My wife was absolutely a CAT person, and made concessions on the dog, who as noted before in this blog, blows coat twice yearly, a snowfall we have to deal with stoically.

So, we currently have FOUR cats, Whose names are Tribble (From the Trouble With Tribbles, a classic Star Trek episode),

(note, this guy is 17 years old, so he's fragile and somewhat cranky)

 Kato (so named because of his clumsy Ninja skills), Kuro (Japanese for black. Go figure, it's a black cat),

and last but certainly not least, Cappuccino Jack (nicknamed Bean Bun for no logical reason)

Here he is, examining a jug of Tropicana Orange Juice (actually, it's water, not OJ, as you can see. I don't think Tropicana has come out with clear OJ yet (personal note, mention it to them...)) It's not Gatorade, but his stance here makes it clear that he is curious about people food.

This cat gets on the counter to eat our dinner before it's served. Not just steak or fish. He's often seen hauling a strand of cooked spaghetti through the house, or a leaf of lettuce. He eats all kinds of things he's not supposed to.

How, you may ask, does this have anything to do with ADHD?

Glad you asked.

Controlled Substances 
You see, every morning our family gets pills. Ones like the one in the picture below.

Frankly, I do NOT see how this looks like, smells like, tastes like, or acts like, FOOD, of ANY SORT.

Yet, we are seen every morning by our Mahar Shalal Hash Baz kitty consuming these tasty trifles. Not with any relish, but just to be able to function in HomeSchool.

My oldest son, just about to re-enter college, left his happy little pill just like the one above, lying on the counter, rather than ingesting it. (He says they make him nervous...)

The very same counter ol' Bean Bun climbs on to steal our FOOD.

Oh no, he didn't.

Oh yes, he did.

So, thankfully, he decided that, since it was FOOD, it required just a tad of chewing. And he discovered quickly that these pills taste quite different on the INSIDE than they do on the OUTSIDE.

Spitting and hissing, he left the pill half-eaten. But he spent the rest of the day calmer, more organized, and studious than he's been in his entire kitty existence.

Which goes quite a ways to proving out that he actually IS ADHD, a theory we've had for quite some time, observing the way he runs through the house every day until he is completely out of energy. Zipping under couches only to pop out elsewhere, claws extended, to shred someone's leg or one of his fellow citizens of the Cat Kingdom.

This goes to show why we try to keep these substances, well, controlled, as attested to by this lock on the cabinet...

The bottom line is, I don't think Bean Bun will become addicted to this stimulant. And thankfully, he's still staying away from this one... It's my own personal addiction...


Coffee!

So, this morning, he's back to his usual playful ADHD self. Here he is a few hours ago, playing with and attacking some of Maya's blown coat. Yes, please don't tell anyone, but he has a thing for large tufts of dog hair...

We were studying Psalm 60 and 61. When it came time to cover the part where God says 'Over Edom I will cast my shoe', I did what I often do, and pulled off my shoe and threw it across the room.

Bean Bun went after it, chasing it up the stairs, and then leaping to his usual attack vantage point:

 

Then came down while we continued reading, to investigate my white sock and see if it was, in fact, a VERY large tuft of white dog hair...

Sigh. Hurry To The Spoils, back at it again.

God, Guns, and... Glasses

This morning, I lost my glasses. I'm an old guy and once I hit 40 I had the pleasure of playing trombone with every piece of paper I picked up, including books I read/write.

A visit to the eye doctor apprised me that I needed bifocals. I opted for a pair of reading glasses. A year or so later I splurged on some very expensive progressive lens glasses (no lines).


We normally have family bible time before I head to work. This morning I was tired and after doing my own devotional and fixing my wife's glasses (which had lost a lens) I made sure the kids were up, and prepared to do bible with them. Rebecca was still finishing up her personal devotion, so I decided to shower before family bible.

She wasn't happy I decided to delay, and was worried I'd nix the whole family bible time, a decision that would start the day wrong and end up with everyone in the ditch.

But I showered anyway. And then couldn't find my glasses. I found my 5yo's Nerf guns, though, and shot a few darts at the closet walls. The darts fell through the wire shelves and onto the closet floor.



Then I bumbled around trying to find my glasses. I had them in the closet, so they HAD to be there. I searched the shelves, the floor, in the boxes under the shelves, in the pockets of a jacket (finding my wife's lost cellphone, an answer to prayer). No glasses.

I searched the place I worked on her glasses. Turned the couch upside down. Searched the cushions. Searched in my easy chair. On the counters. In the trash. In the sink. At the coffee station. On the nightstand.

No glasses.

I prayed for my glasses, and yelled for them. Sent the kids to find them. No luck. Rebecca said to do bible, and after that God would answer my prayer. Finally I acquiesced, and did bible with the kids. Leviticus 8. Has nothing to do with glasses or guns. But a lot to do with God and the seriousness of sin, atonement, and holiness.


So, after bible, I prayed and then looked for my glasses again, deciding that if God didn't let me have my glasses I'd have to fall back on the previous 2 pair.

Went into the closet one last time. I remembered the darts that had fallen and bent down to retrieve them. There were my glasses, in plain sight. No, I'm not kidding. In a place I'd already looked. Granted, my vision's not perfect, but they weren't there before. Then they were. Freaky.

Or maybe God just wanted me to do Bible first. Regardless, R was right, and I walked out of the closet with my glasses on my face. She didn't even blink. "See? I told you you'd find them after you obeyed."

ACTS Praying, out of the mouths of babes...

So last night our scout troop had a Court of Honor, and also an Eagle Scout Board of Review. I was in charge of doing both so life was hectic; I was sort of in two places at once. (The scout passed his BOR, congrats, Harris!)

At the COH there was a lot of food, much of which our youngest son couldn't have, since we're still trying to do the Feingold Diet with him since he's not on any medication (since he's only 5). But Rebecca made some lasagna he could eat, and I enjoyed some of that at 9pm when we got home.

Someone in our SmallGroup mentioned that they were beginning the ACTS Prayer Method with their family, so we thought we'd try that as well.

Follow the link for a breakdown on each point, but I'll give a 1-liner on each point:
A - Adoration
Each of us give some statement of love and adoration to God.

C - Confession
Each of us give some confession to God. Dad had quite a bit to confess. We did this out loud, so there were a few interesting revelations, but nothing earth-shattering.

T - Thanksgiving
We all had a chance to thank God for something He'd done. Our little man thanked God for his Webkins. :-)

S - Supplication
We each had a chance to ask God for something. First, for someone else, then for himself/herself.

When it came to little John's turn, He said 'Gimme a sammich'.

I told him you didn't ask God like that. You didn't demand things from Him, and it was usually for, like, strength to do right, to fill our needs, etc.

He said, 'Gimme a sammich, PLEASE.'

Hmmm. Give us this day our daily bread.

...out of the mouths of babes...

:-)

Where's The Cat?

Yesterday, we had an interesting and bizarre set of ADHD circumstances that I thought I'd share.

I came home from work, and on the way, picked up dinner for the family - PapaJohn's pizza and some 2-liter drinks. I was tired, and I have a laptop and case to carry in, usually stuffed with papers, camera, and various projects.

So I decided not to carry all the food in, but instead send the kids out to get it. After all, they were hungry, right?

Right.

So I stumbled in the dark into the house and told the kids to go get the food in the van. Kissed my lovely wife, and set my heavy laptop case in the corner. I could hear my teen son playing the piano in the other room, another videogame sonata.

Teen daughter was yabbering on the cordless phone to one of her many friends. My 5yo son seemed more interested in his Webkins Hamster. Yes, the Webkins now have taken over Habitrail, it's all digital.

So, I hollered a little louder to go get the food from the van, and collapsed in an easy chair, the king's throne (every home has one of these, I'm sure.) Closed my eyes and relaxed. After several minutes, I noticed I still heard yabbering, story-telling, hamster-playing, and Final Fantasy 27.5 Notoki No Papaya, or Don't Touch My Fruit.

So, I hollered a great deal louder, scaring cats, dog, and children with the bellowing bull voice. Or the Voice of Doom. Whatever you want to call it. Finally got the kids rousted to run out and grab the food. We all ate at the dinner table, then the wife and I ran out to get our 21yo daughter from college.

I noticed the ADD kids had left the sliding van door ajar, so I slammed it closed and we went and got the dear daughter.

This morning, I went through my usual routine, stumble downstairs, start coffee, let cat in, let dog out. Only, no cat. Cat didn't come in. But cat ALWAYS comes in. And he's a loudmouth.

Side note, don't ever, ever, EVER get a siamese cat. Or one that looks like one. Or one that had Siamese up to six generations back. Or move next to me if you have one. Because they are loud. Insistent. Obnoxious. Persistent.

Only, today, no cat.

Normally, I wouldn't care. He's a happy cat, if loud, takes care of himself, and sometimes dear daughter locks him in her room so that he'll be forced to spend the night with her. He's her pet, but he doesn't seem to know it.

Anyway, I called the kids to come down for bible. No cat. I opened the front door again, no cat.

I remembered that we have some big neighborhood dogs that sometimes get loose. The kind of big dogs that eat little loudmouth cats. So, I prepped myself to give dear daughter THE SPEECH. But I decided to wait 24 hours before filing a missing cat APB. After all, that's what the police do too, right?

Right.

So after bible, I head to my van to drive to work. And this is what I see:



The combination of the ADD kids, the neighborhood dogs, and the ADD dad, conspired to trap the poor loudmouth in my van. All night.

And without a litterbox, too!

Poor baby. Him just couldn't help himself, and now the ADD Dad is driving with the windows down, and not just because his A/C in the Van went south again.

Sigh.

I know you're wondering, if you even read this far, how I can possibly pull this around to a spiritual lesson.

Well, never fear. Looking at the cat in my van, I was reminded of a verse:

No temptation has overtaken you except such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will also make the way of escape, that you may be able to bear it. - 1Cor 10:13

And I'll try to remember that everytime I get in my van, from now on, at least until the... memory... of the cat's night in the van fades.

Life in HyperSpace

Well, now it's official.

I've started work on a bold new concept - I'm going to include these stories of my family in a new non-fiction ADHD book to help and entertain others with similar issues.

With all the fun and experience we've had with diet remediation and medication, coping and structure, some of this information will be beneficial to others with similar ADD/ADHD parenting issues.

Dr. Louise Seals has graciously agreed to lend her assistance in the medical side of this work, so I'll be leaning heavily on her as a resource. I hope to have a proposal and a significant portion of the work written by the time the ACFW Conference comes around, as it may be of interest to the agents and editors I'll meet there.

Wish me luck! I'll post a widget here once the words start cranking, so you guys can hop in and see where I'm at on this non-fic journey!