Updates, Windows 8, and ADHD

So... *clicks on Staind song* it's been a while. First, updates: Steph has an interview next week. Yay! Conferences this week. Boo. And the week after next, it's spring break, yay, which will, with any luck, feature additional interviews. Also, I'm writing a new book, not right now though, because right now I'm writing this, unless you're looking at this after I post it, because then I might be working on my new book, or going to the bathroom.

I'm running Windows 8. It's not bad. If I thought any of you were actually interested in this, I'd write more, but I know better. I just thought I'd mention it, because I thought there might be a chance some of you might be buying a computer in the near future and I didn't want you to worry about it running 8.

Now it's ADHD story fun time! So, back in late November or early December, a whole rash of NFL players got suspended or in some form of trouble for taking Adderall. Not having any idea what this was, I looked it up, and saw the symptom list for ADHD Predominantly Inattentive type, which read like something of a biography to me. So I talked with Steph about it, and wouldn't you know, she told me that I'm not normal. I made some other calls to my medically inclined family members and heard similar things, so mid-December I made a call and set up an appointment with the doctor. Only I didn't, because out in Vermont you can't set something like that up without transferring every medical record you've ever had and filling out all the new patient paperwork. So I called and got my paperwork from an office over in Newport, as Steph doesn't like the dude here in town (he told her when she went in to get her thyroid meds renewed that she really should be pregnant - girl's hair was UP). With Steph's help, I got all the paperwork filled out, back in the mail, and we came home for Christmas.

When we got back, what should I see in the mailbox but the envelope I'd sent out the previous week marked as "insufficient postage". Yippee! So, I popped it in a new envelope, put 2 stamps on it this time, and stuck it back in the mailbox. 2 weeks later, not having heard anything, I got in touch with the guy here in town. After all, he couldn't tell me I should be pregnant, though it did occur to me he might tell me I looked like I was, but I was willing to deal with that, as I'd been looking to see a doc for a month at this point. So I went over there, filled out all the paperwork again, and went back to waiting. A week later, on the same day, both doctor's offices called, and a very confused medical records clerk over in Colorado did too. Since the office here in town could see me first, I set up the appointment with them, and now, the last week of January, I went over. I told him what was going on and he told me, "I don't doubt that you have this, but it's not something I write scripts for, but I can refer you to a psychiatrist". Okay, that's kosher, so when we got done, after several anecdotes about how I would've done well as a crewmate on a 16th century Spanish Galleon, among other things that bear little relevance on today's world, I was referred to the mental health lady for an appointment that Friday.

Steph went to that first appointment with me, as I thought it would be good to have an objective observer there to answer questions. As it turns out, this was a good thing. Example: Lady - do you fidget? Me - Nope. Steph - (laughing) yes honey, you do (points at my hands which are playing with my hood strings, then pats my shoulder). We finish filling out all the diagnostic tests and she tells me that it would appear I have ADHD. Well, good, right? I mean, I've known (as well as anyone diagnosing themselves via the internet can) for 6 weeks, but hey, they've caught up. We set up an appointment for the following week to discuss lifestyle changes and meds. Only, the lady gets sick and cancels, so it gets bumped back a week. The next week there's a lot of snow falling out of the sky, so it gets pushed back another week, so it's now mid-February and I have my second appointment. The lady tells me she's going to recommend to the doctor that he prescribe a certain kind of med, and this stuff should work really well, because I seem to have some depression symptoms going on as well. What? Why aren't you prescribing this? I thought I was being referred to a psychiatrist? I look at the certifications as I leave the office that day, and see that I have, in fact, not been seeing a psychiatrist, but a clinical social worker. I look up the med she's going to recommend when I get home and see that it has nothing to do with treating depression, and is generally recommended for folks who suffer side-affects from more traditional ADHD treatments.

So, to summarize, I saw a psychiatrist who was actually a social worker who was going to recommend meds based on a condition I didn't believe I had that the meds didn't actually treat to a doctor who didn't write scripts for this kind of thing. If you were wondering if this is typical of my life, I can only answer yes, yes it is. The rest of the story is a bit boring, so I'll keep it quick. I called my sister, a board certified behavior analyst, and asked for suggestions on how to proceed. She suggested I get in touch with the county mental health center. I did, they couldn't see me for 6 weeks, and they didn't diagnose, but did treat, ADHD. They referred me to a place to get a diagnosis, since they wouldn't take the one I already had. This place had a 6 month waiting list. So I pulled up a list of all the psychiatrists within 100 miles, made a crap-load of calls, got in to see someone, and have, for the last 5 weeks, been on meds. I know the pervasive feelings about ADHD and its treatments, but I have to tell you, this has been a revelation to me. The first day I was on the medication, a person called while I was listening to music, and I didn't have to turn the music off in order to focus on the conversation. When the GPS gives directions in the car, I don't have to turn the radio off. Multiple people can be talking in a room at once, and I can focus on what's being said to me instead of needing it repeated one or more times. I can sit all the way through a movie. It's been incredible.

I hope all of you are well, staying out of trouble, and that you enjoyed reading this. Steph and I will be back in Michigan around the 4th of July. Until then, keep it rockin' for the kids.

Oh, hi!

Life has been a bit hectic lately. I am currently filling out applications for schools surrounding Burlington while both Phil and I go crazy at the reality that we have to stay here at least three more months. My current school is not working out, and there are no opportunities for entertainment or career development in this area. In full disclosure, I am applying to some schools in west Michigan as well, specifically charter schools or public schools that have a plan for student success...or a really nice pool. I'm also looking at some different positions within the world of education. There are a couple literacy or writing coordinator positions that are intriguing and a position as curriculum director at a Boys and Girls Club in Burlington. This year has kick my butt and confidence in the classroom, so it may be nice to try something new. Our current catch phrases are "I don't know" and "We'll see." Both drive us nuts, but I don't know. We'll see.

We are still alive

Hi! I should be writing lessons plans for tomorrow and trying to get to bed on time, but...I don't want to. I'm currently having a difficult time finding the focus and motivation to do school work.

Phil is still studying for his computer certification, but his brain seems to be jumping ahead to his next big project. And it is quite huge. He wants to build collections of short stories and publish them in an electronic magazine. Our weekend coffee conversations have been centered around format, submission requirements, and the realization that we should know more lawyers. We're both pretty excited about seeing where this idea takes us.

School is okay, depending on the day. This morning I was ready to cry because my kids couldn't fold a strip of paper into anything smaller than fourths, we had twenty minutes of silent, focused writing this afternoon, and about an hour ago, I was grading papers and one of my lovelies wrote Msr. Poopstain for the teacher name. (Obviously, we need to review spelling of Mrs.) People tell me the kids are improving, but oh, my goodness, some days are ridiculous.

We are looking at relocating within the state. Richford is not a good fit for us, neither the town nor the school. Hopefully we'll be living in a suburb of Burlington with an excellent school system, job opportunities for Phil, and he wants to live near a comic book store. We'll see!

Life Update

Holiday Recap
Thanksgiving: Our original Thanksgiving plans were to cook up a small turkey breast, make some potatoes and pie for two, and just have a nice, mellow meal. After our supplies were purchased, we were invited to a large family gathering on Sunday by some of my colleagues. On Thanksgiving morning, our landlords invited us down for dinner with their family. Phil especially has been adopted by the oldest son and his family, so we whipped up some dessert and trekked downstairs for dinner. We had our own dinner on Friday, leftovers on Saturday, and I spent Sunday puking.

Christmas: Because we missed driving across the country, we drove to Michigan for Christmas. We planned to leave on December 22 which turned out to be the day of blizzarding along our entire route home. The 23rd was much more conducive to travel, so off we went. We were able to see all of our parents, four out of five grandparents, two out of four sisters, and the latest addition to our collection of nieces and nephews. (Collection of course being three.) We celebrated Christmas five times over our six day visit, and at the Ainslie present exchange, I was informed that opening presents one person at a time was a Dutch tradition which is not always appreciated by others. I waited anyway.

New Years: We were still recovering from our travels and were in bed before midnight.

School Shift
I teach fourth grade now. On the last day of school before break, my principal informed me there would be an opening for a grade four teacher in January and asked if I would be interested. I had mentioned my interest in moving down earlier in the year and had had it up to here with my sixth graders, so I nervously agreed. The previous teacher had been teaching four 45 years and had a rough first semester with this class of 21. She decided the trouble was not worth her time and retired effective immediately. Knowing the history of this class made me a little wary, but I was informed that yes, there were some naughty students but they were not mean like some of my other students.
I went into school the Monday before we got back to organize some fourth grade materials before students came on Wednesday. Oh my goodness. All the student desks had been swapped (I was staying in my own classroom- the students were switching) and piles and piles of dusty teacher files had been deposited all over my room. Freaking out. I am very impressed with how many piles I sorted through in two days. I filled two large garbage bins with outdated materials, found science books from the 1970s, and rearranged all my student desks.
Both classes of students (4th and my 5/6 class) received letters over break informing them of the teacher switch. The fourth grade parents were nervous because they had no idea who I am. My 5/6 parents were furious their children were losing me as a teacher. Yay! I've talked with my old students, and most of them also were upset about not having me as a teacher. Double-yay! (The students who were not sad were the individuals who made me hate school. I will not miss them or their giant hormonal mood swings.)
In three days of fourth grade, we have not accomplished much academic work, but our classroom community is growing. Apparently, their first semester was horrible and included a lot of yelling and worksheets, so I am rocking their world right now. We've done Morning Meetings, group activities, SMART board lessons, an art project, and listened to rock and roll music about math. Several staff members have complimented me on the class atmosphere and the positive feedback they've received from my new students. I feel like I can be the teacher I'm supposed to be in my new position which makes me (and by extension Phil) very happy. Yesterday a staff member mentioned how nice it was to see me smile again.
My kids and I still have a long way to go, and I'm dragging parents along too. I'm going to end here so I can write a parent newsletter about labeling snowpants (we've already had several mix-ups) and not sending kids to school with toys. I've taken away Lego guys from half my boys and random hair extensions from some of my girls. Bizarre.

PS
New England winters are very cold and involve a ton of snow. They are very pretty though. Pictures to come later.

The Art of Couples' Dates

I call it 'guaranteed third-wheel syndrome'. This is a thing that happens to the single friends of newly married couples, particularly long-time friends of one of the partners. Prior to the marriage, these friends think of the newly acquired romantic interest as a neat, if likely short-lived, pet, and comfort themselves knowing that they've seen this before - they were here before, after all, and will likely be here long after. About the time that long-time friend is picking up a groomsman's tux or being fitted for a bridesmaid's dress, the syndrome begins to take effect. Yes, they heard you say how "this time it's different" but they'd heard that one before, only this time it would appear that things actually are different. By the time you've returned from your honeymoon and then proceeded to have as little contact with outside world as possible for the next 6 months, they've figured out that they will now be a permanent third-wheel whenever hanging out with you and have likely moved on to greener, more single-friendly pastures.

At that same 6 month time frame, you and your new spouse suddenly realize that you miss having contact with the outside world, that you miss having people around that you're not married to. Unfortunately, all your single friends have fled, but oddly enough, several other married couples have issued invitations to come over for dinner. Seeing no harm in meeting some new friends, particularly those who have experience with the greatest new thing in your live, and having no real alternative, you embark upon the perilous trail of.... The Couples' Date.

This isn't your double date from high school, Slappy. There will be no going to the movies our out to dinner - young married couples are poor. Pasta and conversation are on the menu for tonight, for one is cheap and the other is free, and if you're lucky, there will be a non-controversial board game. One game of the "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" board game will have you begging, with tears in your eyes, for Boggle, Bananagrams, or even Candyland.

Keep in mind, surviving these initial encounters is an art form. Eventually, these types of things can form profoundly strong bonds, strong enough that Steph and I routinely muse over the loss of our old couple friends back in Colorado. Initially though, survival is key. Do take note of the following:

1. If the couple you're visiting has a new baby, you will be expected to hold it. It's priceless, fragile, deeply loved, and it squirms, and they want you to hold it. God knows why. It's possible they believe you'll get the baby's scent in your nose and you too will come to the realization that your life will be forever incomplete without one. Perhaps it's just nice to have someone to pawn the kid off on while they try to remember what it felt like being free.

2. Regardless of the intent, there are some things to remember while holding that bundle of joy: If held long enough, it will either spew forth from one end or the other, or turn into a giant muscle and lunge for something that is not a toy, and typically dangerous. It's best to pass on that hot potato at the earliest possible opportunity, because yakked up formula stains and that sharp object sitting nearby is quite shiny and will attract the baby's attention sooner rather than later.

3. If your wife set this up, and it's quite likely she did (at least if you're me) it's likely that she'll have set it up with someone from work, and at some point she and the co-worker will begin talking shop and you'll be left with someone you've known for less than an hour to try to figure out something to talk about. Do your prep-work prior to this moment, find out something you can both comfortably discuss before your wife and his pair-off, and don't forget to thank me afterward.

4. It's perfectly fine to discuss the weather. It seems trite, but you're trying to survive, not solve the world's problems. Politics and religion can wait indefinitely. Work is always a solid topic, especially silly things about work.

Keep these in mind, and good luck.

My Day in a Nutshell

Wake up after ~6 hours of sleep with a bladder that feels the size of a fitness ball. Try to ignore it, fail utterly. Go to the bathroom, attempt to go back to sleep, fail utterly a second time. That's right kids, I fail more before 9am than most people do all day. Eat cereal while watching NFLAM on the NFL Network. Giggle each time they call Eric Davis "E.D." and hope they've nicknamed his wife, assuming he has one, "Blue Bomber". Get dressed, consider studying, reject it on the grounds of not yet being awake. Consider drinking coffee, reject it as well based on how it seldom actually wakes me up and that I don't feel like spending the next 6 hours running to the bathroom every 20 minutes. Play some Freecell and listen to music instead for the next 10 minutes. Set up study area. Stare at study area. Pace around the apartment mulling over a massive social issue. Solve social issue. Stare at study area again.

Concede defeat, begin studying. Get mad at author for spending multiple pages on a topic then mentioning, at the end of the section, that this technology is no longer used, nor is it on the test. Pace around the apartment again, resume studying. Become angry with the test wanting to me know things I simply won't do, like monitor repair, given that I don't feel like electrocuting myself. Pace more, consider having lunch. Look in the fridge, conclude that I'm not certain when any of the leftovers were put in there but decide that it wasn't this week. Consider having a sandwich, then notice we're out of bread. Weep quietly in a corner.

Repeat earlier studying practices of actually studying, becoming angry, pacing, and studying some more. Recall father-in-law's admonition that having this certification won't get me anywhere. Hope wife gets home soon before the allure of the train tracks becomes overwhelming. Steph gets home, greet her at the door like an over-enthusiastic puppy. Try not to read too much into it when she says, "Hi honey," with a look that all too clearly tells me she's wondering if my cheese has finally slipped off my cracker. Listen to stories about Steph's day, offer her the use of my weeping corner. Impatiently wait for her to finish using the weeping corner. Have dinner while watching a funny show. We recently finished with all 9 seasons of "Scrubs" and have moved on to "The Big Bang Theory". Feel better about our lives based on how tough television nerds have it too.

Steph goes off to grade papers, write lesson plans, and do whatever it is people do on Pinterest. I go back to studying, with frequent pacing breaks, only now I can rant to Steph about how angry the test/book/author make me and no longer need to use my weeping corner. See Steph off to bed, listening to her guilt inspiring laments as I remain awake. Answer Dad's nightly call. Discuss football, politics, football, current events, football, and sometimes relationships. I try to keep the relationship talk to a minimum, as getting relationship advice from my dad is bit like getting advice on produce from Gallagher. Sure, they have a wealth of experience, but I'm really not a fan of the approach. My parents' marriage is a bit like the sun, we all know it could explode any moment, but it seems like it will just continue giving us cancer for the time being.

Check the apartment for intruders as the house creaks in the night silence. Become increasingly paranoid. Head to bed. This is the cat's cue to hop off the bed and go grab some food. Start falling asleep. This is the cat's cue to hop in the litter box, which is lined with silicate litter instead of traditional sand stuff, and sounds like a foot-shuffler walking through loose gravel when she uses it. Try to ignore it. Fail. Listen as the cat spends the next few minutes attempting to remove the crystals from her paws by rubbing them on any available surface with preference given to those that are loud. Fall asleep, looking forward to doing it all again the next day.

Sorry for slacking

Phil and I were knocked out by our first round of Vermont cold/flu. I blame my students for being disgusting carriers of disease and angst. (Thankfully, the angst is not contagious.) We are feeling better now and settling back into routine.

Fall is beautiful here! There are trees everywhere, and they are in various autumnal stages. The color "peak'" was a couple weeks ago, but there are still vibrant colors around. Phil and I went for an exploratory drive through some of the back roads and were very impressed. We also noted that the surrounding towns are really nice and cute despite looking sketchy from the highway. Alas, when we explored Richford, it was sketchy throughout. We tried really hard not to live in this town, but small towns do not offer a wide selection of rental houses. Someday really soon, we're going to live in a wonderful small town with happy smiley people.

I went to the doctor this week to update a prescription, and during that appointment, he told me all about Mother Nature and his philosophy on the purpose of life (to procreate). This was in response to a note on my chart about taking ibuprofen for headaches. He then asked me about my job at the school. I had a really crappy week, but he was determined to fix it. I got a fifteen minute lecture on how to run my classroom. Awesome. (It gets better.) I had a question about my birth control, and in response, he told me I should just get pregnant so I wouldn't have to worry about it and followed up with a continuation of his life philosophy. He kept bringing up age and how people should have children young because that's what he and his wife did, and it's worked out well for them. Twenty-six is the new forty-five in regards to birthing children. Where was I when this announcement was made?

Mom and Dad are coming this weekend, so yay for family, leaf peeping, and fresh cider with doughnuts!