Warning: Mushy Proud Mommy post ahead

This post is about my beautiful, youngest daughter Emmalee, or more commonly called the noodle. This past year has been a rough one for the noodle. Her teachers and I started noticing her struggle almost immediately after enrolling her in the montessori preschool she previously attended. She is bright and sweet and capable of finishing tasks her older classmates struggle with. She knew her colors, her numbers, how to write her name and she could recognize many words. However, she also had a hard time staying on task. She would get very frustrated with the slightest hint of challenge and she downright refused to take a nap at naptime. Her teacher commented to me that it almost seemed as if she ran on pure adrenaline all day. Before long the social dynamics of preschool proved to be too much for Emma. While most four year olds would simply walk away and find something else to do, Emma would get extremely upset if someone did not want to play with her. She took it very personally and would either cry uncontrollably or become angry enough to hit or throw things. This started to happen more and more until eventually it was every day.  Her teacher, Miss Sharon worked with her intensively, to the point of changing routines and nap locations. She would read books and talk to her peers about ideas to help Emma. The day I had to pick her up from school because she pushed a bookshelf over on another child – I got smacked upside the head by the notion that my child needed help. I was not angry at her, I was worried for her. If this is how she was thinking at 4, what would she do at 14? You hear of kids all the time that stab classmates, bring guns to school and beat other kids in locker rooms or in school parking lots. I refused to let my childs anger and issues shape her future.

Then we came across Miss Becky, a behavior modification specialist. I was leary at first. I was raised in the country where bad behavior was taken care of by enforcing hard work on the farm and not sparing the rod. These things were not working for Emma and I knew we needed professional help.

I enrolled her in a program at NorthKey Community Care, the local mental health agency in our town. They have a children’s hospital staffed 24 hours a day with dedicated, licensed therapists. In this hospital, they have a program called the Partial Hospitalization program. This meant she could be monitored and observed and helped, but would not have to be admitted. She was picked up every morning at 9 and dropped off every day at 2. In these five short hours a day, my daughter was slowly but surely becoming tranformed. She was learning how to modify her behavior, how to interact with her peers and how to focus on her work. She learned responsibility and the consequences of her actions.

At first, I felt like I had failed my child. Like these were things I should have been teaching my child on my own. And then one day at work, I got a call from the psychiatrist that was observing Emma at school. He explained to me that Emma had classic signs of ADHD and Oppositional Defiance Disorder and that he could also tell she came from a loving home filled with encouragement. He explained to me how Emma was feeling, where the anger was coming from and how we could work together to help her. He put her on a very small dose of medication to help her focus and feel calm. I started to read everything I could get my hands on to try to understand what was going on in my baby’s little brain and slowly I began to feel content. Her progress started to increase and the meltdowns decreased dramatically.

Her incentive program at school was a sticker sheet that she had to keep each day in the program. Each day they could earn up to 12 stickers on their sheet for being caught acting appropriately. If she asked nicely for a pencil from a classmate instead of snatching, a sticker. If she sat in her chair quietly and listened to the teacher give directions , a sticker. She would earn different rewards based on the number of stickers she received. Before long, 5 stickers a day turned into 8 stickers a day and for the past week she has gotten all 12 stickers EVERY DAY. The self pride splattered across her face everyday when I pick her up is the best part. “Look at my sticker chart mama – all 12 again — see”

Last week her therapist Miss Chrissy called me at work. ” I have good news” she says. “We met on Emma yesterday and we all agree she is ready to move on. We see such a new child in her. We are very optimistic about her future in Kindergarten and beyond. Next Friday will be her graduation day!”

So today is Emmalee’s graduation day and I could not be more proud of her.

I have cried, I have worried, I have prayed.
I have read and reread, I have asked friends for advice.
I have cried, I have worried, I have prayed.
I have questioned my choices, I have asked colleagues their opionion.
I have cried, I have worried, I have prayed.

And I feel like today is a new beginning.