Well, I guess it's been awhile. I've had people tell me lately that they are wondering how T is doing, how I'm doing in the dissertation process...and so this is just a catch-all.
On July 31, I turned in my first full draft of my dissertation. It felt good, though I was really tired and just...done. About 2 weeks later (almost 2 weeks ago), I sat down with my advisor who had a lot of good ideas, and since I had set it down for a bit (to finish grading final papers for the three classes I taught this summer) I felt rejuvenated and excited to address issues and fix several things I knew I could make better. After a doodle poll with my committee, we found a date that actually worked for everyone. If you're familiar with academic schedules, especially when dealing with people from 3 different universities, you understand just what a miracle that is. Because of paperwork requirements and the number of people who have to approve it, our October 4, 2-4pm, defense date translated to a due date of a refined, mostly polished draft getting to my committee before September 12 and, if you give them enough time to read and approve by Sept. 12, you're talking Sept. 1.
Yes, that's this Saturday. For the last 2 weeks, I've been working on 1) re-doing analysis and re-writing a little over half a chapter on discourse 2) deepening the analysis of interviews (in another chapter) with clearer introductions 3) filling out the conclusion a bit more and 4) adding a handful of figures/tables that easily summarize participant and thematic data.
And, with a bit more APA work, it will be ready (I think. I hope.) 264 pages as it stands, and I think it's pretty decent. I'll feel better after more of my committee sees it and gives feedback. I am happy, though, that at least 2 of my 4 lifespan interview participants have gotten back to me on their chapters, given feedback and seem happy with the stories and even the analysis. One of my committee members (beside my advisor) has also given some really good feedback on the discussion chapter. Another really helped me get the discourse chapter in better shape (the chapter I've worked on the longest and still, I feel, is the weakest because of the complexity it requires). I really appreciate walking into this stage feeling like I already have a good idea of how the committee might ask me to make changes if more are necessary. So...that's that. A couple of forms, some revisions and hopefully October 4, after 4 pm, I'll officially be declared "Dr. Hager."
The adventures with T have been harder, honestly. We started seeing a nutritionalist in mid-July and he's been able to tell us that he believes the reflux didn't disappear when the spit-up stopped. That means that the last 2 years his esophagus has continued to burn. No wonder he's avoiding meat and veggies--he still can't process them. At all. He's now on calcium supplements and I know what you're thinking: he's REALLY tall for his age, and drinks a ton of milk. He's simply not processing it into his bloodstream. We are certain now that he's allergic to milk/milk products and it really hurts his stomach (though he craves it because it's soothing going down, but BURNS afterward and inflames his intestines, poor kid), and has been doing really well with almond milk and coconut milk. We've also gone gluten free with him, which also seems to help a lot. It's hard to find milk-free, gluten free bread though. Thank goodness for trader joe's and UDI bread. It's pretty course, but works well for his peanut butter sandwiches. GF pretzels and shortbread cookies also make him really happy :D We tried "chocolate chip" GF cookies, but discovered hidden milk in a lot of processed foods.
Things are going well with this and T's vocabulary and attention span is getting much better, as long as we don't have slip ups. He begged for a donut on sunday at church and we paid for it, tenfold, as he went screaming and yelling up and down the tables. Yesterday, I babysat another little boy and T snuck some nutragrain bar off of his highchair tray. Today, he's jumped on me, smacked me in the head several times, refused to listen and diaper changes have turned into wrestling matches. It's now like having two very different children--one who's really badly behaved and who elicits all kinds of rude comments from well-meaning friends, relatives and strangers. The other? calmer, cuddly, helpful with household chores (and even helped me a lot yesterday with the little boy I watched, patting his head when he cried, and sharing toys with him) and loves to tell stories. The second little boy, I love to death. The first I love as well but makes life more challenging and really tests my patience. It's also really frustrating to have a kid who's sensitive to: food dyes, soy, milk & milk products and probably gluten and have others offer him "treats" (like the occasional lollipop) that I then have to tell them, no, he can't have them and look like the mean mom. Trust me, I'm saving me and us from crazy outbursts and him from a whole lot of tummy/gut pain.
So things are looking good, we're even seeing improvements in OT. Oh! We also went through with those tests--his hearing is fine (which we guessed) and he qualified for special school district services because he simply refused to take the DIAL 3/evaluation and would not co-operate without me in the room. We weren't that surprised. It's not that he's incapable, but he doesn't do well in unknown spaces (yep. sensory processing disorder with sensitivity to large spaces, multiple inputs and temperature were already known challenges), so having to go with a stranger, away from mom, in a strange place almost guaranteed he wouldn't co-operate from the get-go. We have to wait to hear back from them and it may take another 3 weeks, but we think he'll be going to the AWESOME early childhood center in our district and getting (for "free" through the district) additional help for speech and behavior. I'm hopeful and I think he'll have fun. He's freaked out the last 2 times we've been (for testing) when I said he couldn't play on their playground (which was gated in and locked)--and if he goes there, he'll be able to play there!
It's been a busy (but good) couple of months and both T and I are making great progress. The dissertation is nearly finished, set to defend, and Tristan is starting to feel a bit better with food and learning new words and responsibilities every day. His new thing? He's interested in learning how to peddle his bike! We may have a bike rider on our hands before we know it. July and August (and of course, God) have been very good to us.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
When dissertation and family live in opposition
I explained to my dad today that I'd practically given up on an "excellent" dissertation and was just aiming for "passable." He laughed and said that was probably where I should be at this point. He remembered the summer after finishing a chapter he'd researched in Washington D.C., coming home exhausted and writing a similar email to HIS advisor.
This is not to say that his exhaustion wasn't earned (after all, I was set to graduate college shortly thereafter, and was in the throws of wedding planning while my sister was set to start college that fall, and he'd been asked to take on additional roles at the college. There was plenty going on at our house at the time!) but mine is a bit different.
As I've said before, it took about 2 years of essay writing, interviews, and then dealing with a sour economy/finding jobs to pay for my tuition to start in the fall of 2008 on my PhD. Three months after I started, we found out I was pregnant. Timing seemed fine. Pregnancy was uneventful and I did well in classes, in teaching, and seemingly balancing it all. When Tristan was born with 2 types of jaundice, things started to get tricky but my researcher assistant job allowed for a flexible schedule. This became even more important as we dealt with a year of serious reflux for Tristan and little sleep. Yet I did well in classes, and even went back to teaching part-time. I thought I was doing what I needed to do. I was still really passionate about writing on immigrant experiences and the experiences of Muslims post 9/11.
It's in the last two months that this has started to fall apart. Tristan's diagnosis of SPD and needing to attend therapy every 2-3 weeks only presented a minor schedule change. I have, however, been trying to teach 3 classes (2 online, one in person) and finish the dissertation at the same time. On Monday, at therapy, I was told that they had additional concerns and we needed to go in for more testing, evaluation and possibly more therapies with Tristan. It was just hard to hear and the truth is, made me realize something difficult and important at the same time.
I need to be with my family even more than I have been. Even though I've been physically present this whole time (thank goodness for online teaching that allowed me to grade papers and write lectures when he was napping or playing), I needed to mentally and emotionally be here more. I'm still passionate about this dissertation--make no mistake--but in the few hours that I spent processing what this meant for Tristan and for me, I realized that my priorities were shifting.
As hard as it is to leave the classroom (yet again!) my son needs me here--and I need to be here, too, doing less. It's been an amazing and challenging four years of graduate work, but I was often juggling more than anyone should. Family and studies were often competing for my attention and I made it work as long as I could--but my son will only be little once. And I only have so much time and energy.
I need a break from teaching. I'm burnt out. I'm discouraged. Experiences this year in teaching TESL online have primarily contributed to this, but I think in some ways this is God's way of leading me in a new direction.
I'd said to several friends earlier this week as I was processing and working through this new information with Tristan that I believed the statement "God never gives us more than we can handle" was utter nonsense. I still think that--but I think my mother responded at the heart of the matter in a later discussion. She told me, "I think God gives us a little bit more than we can bear so that we're forced to rely on him." That's where I'm at--trusting in him to help me bring my studies and teaching to a successful end point this fall, and to take me in a new direction beginning in December sometime. Or January.
So that's it. I love teaching and I love this study, but I do love my family more. And I feel like God is telling me that life will move in a different direction for awhile once this dissertation has been submitted and accepted. I only pray that I can come back to this eventually and work more in interfaith dialogue, once Tristan (and baby #2, who will arrive in late November) are a bit older and well settled.
This is not to say that his exhaustion wasn't earned (after all, I was set to graduate college shortly thereafter, and was in the throws of wedding planning while my sister was set to start college that fall, and he'd been asked to take on additional roles at the college. There was plenty going on at our house at the time!) but mine is a bit different.
As I've said before, it took about 2 years of essay writing, interviews, and then dealing with a sour economy/finding jobs to pay for my tuition to start in the fall of 2008 on my PhD. Three months after I started, we found out I was pregnant. Timing seemed fine. Pregnancy was uneventful and I did well in classes, in teaching, and seemingly balancing it all. When Tristan was born with 2 types of jaundice, things started to get tricky but my researcher assistant job allowed for a flexible schedule. This became even more important as we dealt with a year of serious reflux for Tristan and little sleep. Yet I did well in classes, and even went back to teaching part-time. I thought I was doing what I needed to do. I was still really passionate about writing on immigrant experiences and the experiences of Muslims post 9/11.
It's in the last two months that this has started to fall apart. Tristan's diagnosis of SPD and needing to attend therapy every 2-3 weeks only presented a minor schedule change. I have, however, been trying to teach 3 classes (2 online, one in person) and finish the dissertation at the same time. On Monday, at therapy, I was told that they had additional concerns and we needed to go in for more testing, evaluation and possibly more therapies with Tristan. It was just hard to hear and the truth is, made me realize something difficult and important at the same time.
I need to be with my family even more than I have been. Even though I've been physically present this whole time (thank goodness for online teaching that allowed me to grade papers and write lectures when he was napping or playing), I needed to mentally and emotionally be here more. I'm still passionate about this dissertation--make no mistake--but in the few hours that I spent processing what this meant for Tristan and for me, I realized that my priorities were shifting.
As hard as it is to leave the classroom (yet again!) my son needs me here--and I need to be here, too, doing less. It's been an amazing and challenging four years of graduate work, but I was often juggling more than anyone should. Family and studies were often competing for my attention and I made it work as long as I could--but my son will only be little once. And I only have so much time and energy.
I need a break from teaching. I'm burnt out. I'm discouraged. Experiences this year in teaching TESL online have primarily contributed to this, but I think in some ways this is God's way of leading me in a new direction.
I'd said to several friends earlier this week as I was processing and working through this new information with Tristan that I believed the statement "God never gives us more than we can handle" was utter nonsense. I still think that--but I think my mother responded at the heart of the matter in a later discussion. She told me, "I think God gives us a little bit more than we can bear so that we're forced to rely on him." That's where I'm at--trusting in him to help me bring my studies and teaching to a successful end point this fall, and to take me in a new direction beginning in December sometime. Or January.
So that's it. I love teaching and I love this study, but I do love my family more. And I feel like God is telling me that life will move in a different direction for awhile once this dissertation has been submitted and accepted. I only pray that I can come back to this eventually and work more in interfaith dialogue, once Tristan (and baby #2, who will arrive in late November) are a bit older and well settled.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Riding the Food Dye wave
I used to be the kind of mom that saw benefit in healthy eating--and now our sanity depends on it, while Tristan's SPD fights against it. How so? Well, he's very texture and temperature sensitive. If it's warm, it's "too hot!" and anything leafy, soft, or mushy are "belch!" in his book. He won't touch many kid favorite foods--hot dogs, chicken nuggets, most noodles (though spaghetti sometimes gets his approval)...and then those created in the last 40 years or so, he can't really have. Let me explain.
We discovered back in October the connection between Yellow dye (both 5 & 6) and his hyperactive behaviors. This issue has been all over the news in the last two years. For a few examples:
http://www.npr.org/2011/03/30/134962888/fda-probes-link-between-food-dyes-kids-behavior
http://miami.cbslocal.com/2012/03/28/can-food-dyes-cause-or-affect-adhd/
http://www.cnn.com/2011/HEALTH/03/30/fda.food.dye.health/index.html
I hadn't heard of it, though, until a church friend of ours who also works at the preschool Tristan attended this fall handed me a book by Feingold that she had read when her children had similar issues. We started taking all foods with dyes out of his diet and after a few days, he really was much calmer. The only problem? It's practically in everything geared to kids: store bought macaroni n' cheese, Kool-aid, jello, most candy and popsicles, many breakfast cereals (even ones you don't think of as multi-colored and dyed. Yes, Cheerios is one on this list), juices, fruit snacks which had been Tristan's favorite snack, and the list goes on.
(As a sort of side note: This is why I've been taking issue with the "organic" label lately--Annie's fruit snacks and others labeled organic have food dyes. Read the label closely. It even says "artificial colors and flavors." How is something SO doctored considered 'organic'?)
It should be said, when some believe that those of us BEGGING for food dye regulation are not extremist in the least--many other countries DO regulate the use of food dyes and levels of dyes. The US? Not at all. I don't think you necessarily need to ban them, but as we've seen such a huge increase in ADHD and hyperactivity in children (some sources in the articles above mentioned 400% since food dyes have been added to foods), shouldn't we at least consider better regulation of what goes into the foods we eat and the safety of these additives?
In some ways, we're lucky. Tristan ISN'T sensitive to Red 40, the most pervasive dye and the one many kids are sensitive to. He IS very sensitive to yellow though (both the numbered ones and annatto--which we didn't know was a yellow dye until we did some searching after cheese crackers set him off). How did we figure this out, and what does a food dye reaction look like around here?
Well, now that we keep him away from colors (thank you, capri sun and invisible Kool-aid for providing an occasional treat without the side effects!) this is what can happen. Before I start with what food dye "highs" (as I've taken to calling them) look like, you should know: he still naps and naps well most days for about 2-3 hours, and he also sleeps at night 7-6 or so. He expends tons of energy so this seems normal. He also expends tons of energy on food dye highs, but sleep patterns get crazy as you'll see.
Rob and I went to see "Brave" the other night. I had been craving chocolate, so we got a bag of Reese's pieces and I didn't finish them. They were 'hidden' in my purse. On Thursday morning, Tristan snuck into my purse and found them. After only a few seconds of quiet, we found him that morning eating them excitedly. No, none of the brown ones--yellow and orange. Oh joy.
Thursday they worked on our roof, so I drove to Greenville with Tristan. Of our 70 minute drive, he screamed "OUT! OUT!" for the last 20 minutes and couldn't stop wiggling. We couldn't get him to eat much of anything, and he tried to drink his weight in milk and water. He was irritable, didn't want to play with me or anyone else, and changed activities every 5 minutes. Even one of his favorite videos at my parents house that's about 9 minutes long couldn't hold his attention the whole time. Naptime was about an hour and involved us driving him around to sleep. It took us 2 hours to get him to sleep that night. He got up on Friday morning about 5:30.
By 9 am, Tristan (and I) had played in the sprinkler, had a water pouring party on the kitchen floor, blown bubbles, ran around the backyard, had 3-4 cups of milk (again, almost no food though I did get him to eat some trader joe's fruit leather), played trains and danced to sesame street. I was exhausted already (ugh pregnancy!) and he just kept going. He was cranky and indecisive. he would ask for something, and by the time I got it to him, he'd cry and tell me that he didn't want it and act like it was the worst thing I'd ever made him. Naptime was a fight again, but I did get him to sleep without driving around. It took over 30 minutes to get him to calm down enough to sleep and then he was up 45 minutes later, only slightly less cranky than before. He wouldn't sit and eat with us for lunch or dinner. he only wanted to run around and play. He'd barely make eye contact when I spoke to him. He'd ask for hugs, but run away before I'd held him for 5 seconds. Another hour at bedtime to try to get him down, and then we let him cry it out after that because both Rob and I were exhausted and he was still wanting to run around though at that point it was in circles while whining.
He was up by 5-something again this morning. We tried to pull him into bed with us and rest, but he'd have none of it. More milk, more running, more "no!" as I tried to keep him inside in this extreme heat, but he becomes belligerent during this period as well.
Food dye usually takes about 72 hours to wear off around here, or slightly less. He is standing/sitting still for slightly longer periods of time this morning and showing some interest in food. He's also asking for hugs and making some eye contact. It's just so hard sometimes when your child can disappear behind this badly behaved facade for days, and you know the reason it happens but it's hard to stop sometimes. He's too young to understand. It also stinks because there's so much (texture and temperature wise) he refuses to eat and battles us over. We're working with the OT on this, but...it just feels like a very long and frustrating road in the middle of a food dye high.
We discovered back in October the connection between Yellow dye (both 5 & 6) and his hyperactive behaviors. This issue has been all over the news in the last two years. For a few examples:
http://www.npr.org/2011/03/30/134962888/fda-probes-link-between-food-dyes-kids-behavior
http://miami.cbslocal.com/2012/03/28/can-food-dyes-cause-or-affect-adhd/
http://www.cnn.com/2011/HEALTH/03/30/fda.food.dye.health/index.html
I hadn't heard of it, though, until a church friend of ours who also works at the preschool Tristan attended this fall handed me a book by Feingold that she had read when her children had similar issues. We started taking all foods with dyes out of his diet and after a few days, he really was much calmer. The only problem? It's practically in everything geared to kids: store bought macaroni n' cheese, Kool-aid, jello, most candy and popsicles, many breakfast cereals (even ones you don't think of as multi-colored and dyed. Yes, Cheerios is one on this list), juices, fruit snacks which had been Tristan's favorite snack, and the list goes on.
(As a sort of side note: This is why I've been taking issue with the "organic" label lately--Annie's fruit snacks and others labeled organic have food dyes. Read the label closely. It even says "artificial colors and flavors." How is something SO doctored considered 'organic'?)
It should be said, when some believe that those of us BEGGING for food dye regulation are not extremist in the least--many other countries DO regulate the use of food dyes and levels of dyes. The US? Not at all. I don't think you necessarily need to ban them, but as we've seen such a huge increase in ADHD and hyperactivity in children (some sources in the articles above mentioned 400% since food dyes have been added to foods), shouldn't we at least consider better regulation of what goes into the foods we eat and the safety of these additives?
In some ways, we're lucky. Tristan ISN'T sensitive to Red 40, the most pervasive dye and the one many kids are sensitive to. He IS very sensitive to yellow though (both the numbered ones and annatto--which we didn't know was a yellow dye until we did some searching after cheese crackers set him off). How did we figure this out, and what does a food dye reaction look like around here?
Well, now that we keep him away from colors (thank you, capri sun and invisible Kool-aid for providing an occasional treat without the side effects!) this is what can happen. Before I start with what food dye "highs" (as I've taken to calling them) look like, you should know: he still naps and naps well most days for about 2-3 hours, and he also sleeps at night 7-6 or so. He expends tons of energy so this seems normal. He also expends tons of energy on food dye highs, but sleep patterns get crazy as you'll see.
Rob and I went to see "Brave" the other night. I had been craving chocolate, so we got a bag of Reese's pieces and I didn't finish them. They were 'hidden' in my purse. On Thursday morning, Tristan snuck into my purse and found them. After only a few seconds of quiet, we found him that morning eating them excitedly. No, none of the brown ones--yellow and orange. Oh joy.
Thursday they worked on our roof, so I drove to Greenville with Tristan. Of our 70 minute drive, he screamed "OUT! OUT!" for the last 20 minutes and couldn't stop wiggling. We couldn't get him to eat much of anything, and he tried to drink his weight in milk and water. He was irritable, didn't want to play with me or anyone else, and changed activities every 5 minutes. Even one of his favorite videos at my parents house that's about 9 minutes long couldn't hold his attention the whole time. Naptime was about an hour and involved us driving him around to sleep. It took us 2 hours to get him to sleep that night. He got up on Friday morning about 5:30.
By 9 am, Tristan (and I) had played in the sprinkler, had a water pouring party on the kitchen floor, blown bubbles, ran around the backyard, had 3-4 cups of milk (again, almost no food though I did get him to eat some trader joe's fruit leather), played trains and danced to sesame street. I was exhausted already (ugh pregnancy!) and he just kept going. He was cranky and indecisive. he would ask for something, and by the time I got it to him, he'd cry and tell me that he didn't want it and act like it was the worst thing I'd ever made him. Naptime was a fight again, but I did get him to sleep without driving around. It took over 30 minutes to get him to calm down enough to sleep and then he was up 45 minutes later, only slightly less cranky than before. He wouldn't sit and eat with us for lunch or dinner. he only wanted to run around and play. He'd barely make eye contact when I spoke to him. He'd ask for hugs, but run away before I'd held him for 5 seconds. Another hour at bedtime to try to get him down, and then we let him cry it out after that because both Rob and I were exhausted and he was still wanting to run around though at that point it was in circles while whining.
He was up by 5-something again this morning. We tried to pull him into bed with us and rest, but he'd have none of it. More milk, more running, more "no!" as I tried to keep him inside in this extreme heat, but he becomes belligerent during this period as well.
Food dye usually takes about 72 hours to wear off around here, or slightly less. He is standing/sitting still for slightly longer periods of time this morning and showing some interest in food. He's also asking for hugs and making some eye contact. It's just so hard sometimes when your child can disappear behind this badly behaved facade for days, and you know the reason it happens but it's hard to stop sometimes. He's too young to understand. It also stinks because there's so much (texture and temperature wise) he refuses to eat and battles us over. We're working with the OT on this, but...it just feels like a very long and frustrating road in the middle of a food dye high.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Burning the candle all over the place!
I finished the last full chapter I had left to complete, and left it with 3 readers I trusted. After getting back their comments, I revised it and sent it to my advisor and another committee member for more feedback.
I'm now diving into the last of my data (community interviews) for analysis purposes--but it's not easy. You see, it's VBS week, and students from both of my classes have assignments due next week that they're asking questions about. This means I'm out about 8-12:30 every day for VBS, trying to get in some cuddle time with my little guy before his nap, answering questions for classes while he naps and then dealing with a number of meetings (doctoral paperwork how-tos, church council, OB-GYN) and evening obligations... Needless to say, I'm feeling a bit burnt out at the moment. I figured it was safer to write less this week than write and have to deal with all of the revisions that (for me) result in less than intelligible or articulate writing.
But at least the last full chapter is written and I'll get to editing it when I've had a bit more sleep and I'll finish the last analysis work when have a bit more time to really work and think on it.
When VBS ends tomorrow at noon? I'm hoping Tristan and I can both celebrate with a nice, long nap :D
I'm now diving into the last of my data (community interviews) for analysis purposes--but it's not easy. You see, it's VBS week, and students from both of my classes have assignments due next week that they're asking questions about. This means I'm out about 8-12:30 every day for VBS, trying to get in some cuddle time with my little guy before his nap, answering questions for classes while he naps and then dealing with a number of meetings (doctoral paperwork how-tos, church council, OB-GYN) and evening obligations... Needless to say, I'm feeling a bit burnt out at the moment. I figured it was safer to write less this week than write and have to deal with all of the revisions that (for me) result in less than intelligible or articulate writing.
But at least the last full chapter is written and I'll get to editing it when I've had a bit more sleep and I'll finish the last analysis work when have a bit more time to really work and think on it.
When VBS ends tomorrow at noon? I'm hoping Tristan and I can both celebrate with a nice, long nap :D
Friday, June 8, 2012
Transitions
The data is collected, I'm writing the discussion chapter now with only the conclusion left after this (and a WHOLE lot of revisions, I imagine). I should be defending by October and graduating by December (please pray that all of this "time frame" holds together!) I'd always just thought that this blog would end after the dissertation was done and that perhaps this would someday serve someone else's data collection purposes on the challenges of dissertation writing.
As I've discovered lately though, the toughest part of the dissertation usually has nothing to do with the writing itself; the toughest part is figuring out how to balance life WITH writing and all the things life throws at you. Recently, life threw something BIG at my family. We'd always known that my son was very active and "quirky," but about 6 months ago, the tantrums got worse and he seemed to struggle more and more with expressing himself and feeling overwhelmed. Our pediatrician kept telling me not to worry about things, things I'd started to notice around the time he was one and a half or two, but they started adding up. The tantrums started to involve hitting, biting, kicking, head butting and one time he head butted me so hard, he made my nose bleed on both sides.
The signs were there even earlier than six months ago in some ways. We had to leave preschool at the end of October after the teacher was SURE there was something very wrong with him and she couldn't get him to do what she wanted. I thought "strong willed," but I did also have him evaluated by the DAYC measures (Developmental assessment of Young children), and he showed up slightly delayed but not 1) autistic or even 2) qualifying for services. They gave me the name of a different pediatrician though, and she specialized in diagnosing and helping with children who had behavioral issues. I eventually got fed up with our first pediatrician's reassurances and called the other pediatrician. At our very first appointment in April, Tristan hadn't slept well the night before and was showing off all of his tantrum glory. The pediatrician immediately helped us connect with an Occupational Therapy center, though she told us it would probably take about 3 months to get our first appointment for an 'official' evaluation. Until then, he would be diagnosed as a tip toe walker, which is what most insurance companies require in order to send a child to therapy. He is, in fact, a tip toe walker which is often a classic symptom of autism, though he was determined not to be autistic or to be anywhere on that spectrum.
I was more relieved than worried at that point. Relieved that we were moving towards answers to help us all cope with his energy levels and violent tantrums. I put it out of my mind until we could go, and concentrated on school, writing, and teaching. Our first OT was this past Tuesday.
I feel like our lives have changed in a few short days. Yes, it's answers and that's an answer to our prayers although we have to still narrow down the diagnosis. Yes, Tristan LOVES the OT and the play/movement it involves. Yes, I'm excited and have a number of new resources...but it's overwhelming. He's been diagnosed as having SPD or "Sensory Processing Disorder," and has both Hyposensitivity (over stimulated) and Hypersensitivity (under stimulated and needing more input) to different stimuli. Yes, it moves us towards positive changes in his life and helping him cope better with his surroundings as well as explaining a number of things he does....but now I do worry some. I worry about when he might be able to potty train, if he'll adapt okay to preschool or if we'll have pull him again, and most of all if I'll be able to ever to have a full time job that isn't him (or if his brother or sister will be able to get enough attention in the midst of this).
It's going to take years of therapy with daily use of the "brushing" technique from me, as well as a good deal of advocacy. As SPD is still not acknowledged by many physicians as a 'real' condition and schools usually take a punitive approach to dealing with it (punishing for the 'acting out' that happens when reacting to sensory stimulation), it's something that will require a lot of work on our part to make sure others understand and don't immediately stereotype him as a 'bad' or 'disruptive' child.
So what does that have to do with my dissertation? Well...it is impacting how quickly I'm able to work and how distracted I feel lately. More importantly though it has to do with the future of this blog. I've come to the conclusion that this won't just end, but will transition to dealing with SPD, our family, and ways in which (I hope) our faith and faith community intersect in our lives.
Look for this to be blended for awhile, alternating between updates on the dissertation and writing with life with SPD and how we're coping.
As I've discovered lately though, the toughest part of the dissertation usually has nothing to do with the writing itself; the toughest part is figuring out how to balance life WITH writing and all the things life throws at you. Recently, life threw something BIG at my family. We'd always known that my son was very active and "quirky," but about 6 months ago, the tantrums got worse and he seemed to struggle more and more with expressing himself and feeling overwhelmed. Our pediatrician kept telling me not to worry about things, things I'd started to notice around the time he was one and a half or two, but they started adding up. The tantrums started to involve hitting, biting, kicking, head butting and one time he head butted me so hard, he made my nose bleed on both sides.
The signs were there even earlier than six months ago in some ways. We had to leave preschool at the end of October after the teacher was SURE there was something very wrong with him and she couldn't get him to do what she wanted. I thought "strong willed," but I did also have him evaluated by the DAYC measures (Developmental assessment of Young children), and he showed up slightly delayed but not 1) autistic or even 2) qualifying for services. They gave me the name of a different pediatrician though, and she specialized in diagnosing and helping with children who had behavioral issues. I eventually got fed up with our first pediatrician's reassurances and called the other pediatrician. At our very first appointment in April, Tristan hadn't slept well the night before and was showing off all of his tantrum glory. The pediatrician immediately helped us connect with an Occupational Therapy center, though she told us it would probably take about 3 months to get our first appointment for an 'official' evaluation. Until then, he would be diagnosed as a tip toe walker, which is what most insurance companies require in order to send a child to therapy. He is, in fact, a tip toe walker which is often a classic symptom of autism, though he was determined not to be autistic or to be anywhere on that spectrum.
I was more relieved than worried at that point. Relieved that we were moving towards answers to help us all cope with his energy levels and violent tantrums. I put it out of my mind until we could go, and concentrated on school, writing, and teaching. Our first OT was this past Tuesday.
I feel like our lives have changed in a few short days. Yes, it's answers and that's an answer to our prayers although we have to still narrow down the diagnosis. Yes, Tristan LOVES the OT and the play/movement it involves. Yes, I'm excited and have a number of new resources...but it's overwhelming. He's been diagnosed as having SPD or "Sensory Processing Disorder," and has both Hyposensitivity (over stimulated) and Hypersensitivity (under stimulated and needing more input) to different stimuli. Yes, it moves us towards positive changes in his life and helping him cope better with his surroundings as well as explaining a number of things he does....but now I do worry some. I worry about when he might be able to potty train, if he'll adapt okay to preschool or if we'll have pull him again, and most of all if I'll be able to ever to have a full time job that isn't him (or if his brother or sister will be able to get enough attention in the midst of this).
It's going to take years of therapy with daily use of the "brushing" technique from me, as well as a good deal of advocacy. As SPD is still not acknowledged by many physicians as a 'real' condition and schools usually take a punitive approach to dealing with it (punishing for the 'acting out' that happens when reacting to sensory stimulation), it's something that will require a lot of work on our part to make sure others understand and don't immediately stereotype him as a 'bad' or 'disruptive' child.
So what does that have to do with my dissertation? Well...it is impacting how quickly I'm able to work and how distracted I feel lately. More importantly though it has to do with the future of this blog. I've come to the conclusion that this won't just end, but will transition to dealing with SPD, our family, and ways in which (I hope) our faith and faith community intersect in our lives.
Look for this to be blended for awhile, alternating between updates on the dissertation and writing with life with SPD and how we're coping.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
The importance of a strong network
I nearly screamed with joy last night. I had a text from Rose, who had gotten my chapter and would read it as soon as she could...
But she'd recently gotten married and moved and life was a bit in chaos.
I was honestly just thrilled to hear from her and know that she was still involved with the study, even from afar. I wouldn't say all of the women have become my good friends, but I do feel strongly connected to them in some ways and invested in their lives. It was nice to hear that Rose's story had taken an even more positive turn recently and that she was off on a new adventure. Even in our interviews, she'd talked about missing the west coast and feeling somewhat stuck and stifled when she returned to the Midwest 6 or 7 years ago, so it was good to hear that she had now moved to the East coast. A different coast, but a place where she felt like she had opportunities galore. Her family, of course, stayed here, but I have no doubt that her sisters and parents will stay close in touch.
It was a bit strange getting this message when I did. I was out to dinner with Angela and Sujin, two of my fellow graduate students, celebrating that the semester was over, that they'd finished their last classes and that Sujin had recently successfully defended her dissertation proposal. We were talking about passing around IRB information, reading comp exam essays (for Angela, who will be sitting hers in July), and getting feedback on each other's writing. It's not exactly a family network, but sometimes it feels like it. This work can be lonely and sometimes the families that we live with do not understand the process or offer help. My graduate school "family" is a family formed by similar experiences, past research and writing collaborations, and intellectual interest in each other's topics. Sujin, Angela, and I have all been interested in language learning, language teaching, and identity development issues. Reading their work helps drive my own research and build connections between us.
No reading was involved last night, though. Sure, between bites of hummus, Baba Gannoush, Taboleh, falafel and stuffed grape leaves, there was talk of IRB and writing, but we mostly enjoyed the food and the company. It was the first time we'd been able to meet since right before AERA in April. It was re-energizing to talk about life with others in the midst of this crazy process. We even talked about trying to get tickets to the symphony or go dancing together! While Rose and Amira do keep in contact about their part of the study (as does Ashley), it's the strong network we have of researchers who are at dissertation phase now that keeps me going.
Much like the life stories I've heard, mine, too, speaks of the importance of strong ties to family--even if the most important family at this stage isn't technically my "family" at all. My family is encouraging, but nothing pushes me quite like hearing "I'm looking forward to reading your conclusions" or "Can you send me your discussion chapter? I want to see how you ended up doing analysis," or my absolute favorite-- "can I see your finished outline? I know you're not doing the standard 5 chapter format and I'm thinking about different ways to structure mine as well." Nothing pushes you to finish quite like that last one! I don't think I could do this without Sujin, Angela, and Lisa (my advisor), and I'm grateful for their enthusiasm, drive, and company on this journey.
But she'd recently gotten married and moved and life was a bit in chaos.
I was honestly just thrilled to hear from her and know that she was still involved with the study, even from afar. I wouldn't say all of the women have become my good friends, but I do feel strongly connected to them in some ways and invested in their lives. It was nice to hear that Rose's story had taken an even more positive turn recently and that she was off on a new adventure. Even in our interviews, she'd talked about missing the west coast and feeling somewhat stuck and stifled when she returned to the Midwest 6 or 7 years ago, so it was good to hear that she had now moved to the East coast. A different coast, but a place where she felt like she had opportunities galore. Her family, of course, stayed here, but I have no doubt that her sisters and parents will stay close in touch.
It was a bit strange getting this message when I did. I was out to dinner with Angela and Sujin, two of my fellow graduate students, celebrating that the semester was over, that they'd finished their last classes and that Sujin had recently successfully defended her dissertation proposal. We were talking about passing around IRB information, reading comp exam essays (for Angela, who will be sitting hers in July), and getting feedback on each other's writing. It's not exactly a family network, but sometimes it feels like it. This work can be lonely and sometimes the families that we live with do not understand the process or offer help. My graduate school "family" is a family formed by similar experiences, past research and writing collaborations, and intellectual interest in each other's topics. Sujin, Angela, and I have all been interested in language learning, language teaching, and identity development issues. Reading their work helps drive my own research and build connections between us.
No reading was involved last night, though. Sure, between bites of hummus, Baba Gannoush, Taboleh, falafel and stuffed grape leaves, there was talk of IRB and writing, but we mostly enjoyed the food and the company. It was the first time we'd been able to meet since right before AERA in April. It was re-energizing to talk about life with others in the midst of this crazy process. We even talked about trying to get tickets to the symphony or go dancing together! While Rose and Amira do keep in contact about their part of the study (as does Ashley), it's the strong network we have of researchers who are at dissertation phase now that keeps me going.
Much like the life stories I've heard, mine, too, speaks of the importance of strong ties to family--even if the most important family at this stage isn't technically my "family" at all. My family is encouraging, but nothing pushes me quite like hearing "I'm looking forward to reading your conclusions" or "Can you send me your discussion chapter? I want to see how you ended up doing analysis," or my absolute favorite-- "can I see your finished outline? I know you're not doing the standard 5 chapter format and I'm thinking about different ways to structure mine as well." Nothing pushes you to finish quite like that last one! I don't think I could do this without Sujin, Angela, and Lisa (my advisor), and I'm grateful for their enthusiasm, drive, and company on this journey.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
New Challenges
It's been a productive month, as I finished writing 3 (of my 4) life history chapters in the last 3 weeks.
We also announced my pregnancy this past Sunday--at 12 weeks. I hope this helps explain some of my quietness for months. It was on the forefront of my mind and I couldn't talk about it. I spent a lot of time sick, and even more just plain exhausted. I'm still trying to recover from the exhaustion, which is tricky with an almost 3 year old in the house who goes through bouts of hating to sleep. In fact, last night was the first night we had a full night of sleep in over a week. At times, I'm overwhelmed by goals I'd set out, thinking that they're completely realistic, but then I'm frustrated when I cannot, for the life of me, finish them on "schedule."
What does this have to do with a dissertation? Quite a lot actually. I'm frustrated and overwhelmed by my last 2 interview transcriptions. I've hired someone to help with the others, but said that I could do these two. I NEED to, as one is a core participant (the second interview with the last life history I have to finish) and the other is an interview that is long, but only a small portion really needs to be transcribed as quite a lot doesn't relate to the subject. We all do our best to leave our personal lives at the door of our work, but the lines inevitably blur. The lack of sleep catches up to us, as do the worries about finishing a dissertation before a second child arrives. I also worry about "pregnancy brain" as I continue to write. Will it be articulate enough? Will it do justice to my method and my participants' stories? Which is more important to me--having a good and finished dissertation or having a fantastic dissertation that I can't defend until after the baby is born? I am leaning towards "good" right now, as I'm terrified of what the first year may have in store for me.
In some ways, being a first time parent in a PhD program was a blessing. I didn't know how hard it could be. Had I known what to expect with the reflux, lack of sleep for about a year and a half (between reflux and teething) and how this would interact with my coursework and TA/RA duties, I think I would have quit. This time, I don't just expect it to be the same, but there's no guarantee the baby won't have reflux--and I'll have his or her big brother to contend with, this child who still hates sleeping and isn't a big fan of listening and who we're just praying we can potty train before we take him to preschool part time in the fall.
The reality is this--I have 3 or 3.5 chapters left to write for the full draft, and I want to get them to my committee by the end of August. I'm tired and while I love what I'm doing, I need to move forward and finish before I get even more overwhelmed. The chapters to write are: 1) the last life history (which I was able to start during "nap" ("no nap!" struggle time) time yesterday) 2) a chapter of 'analysis'/meaning making (which is at least started) and 3) conclusions/implications, as well as the community interview portion of the "ethos of reception" chapter. The problem is that this would still just make a full draft. More lit will need to be added, sections will need to be rearranged, etc. Even thinking about this makes me tired some days. My goal, though, is to simply finish this last core participant interview transcript and life history by the end of May. June is for the analysis chapter, July is for the conclusions chapter, and the community interview stuff will be done in August, since I have to wait on transcripts for that (and pay my wonderful transcriptionist who's also interested in giving feedback for analysis purposes! I love working with people who are blossoming researchers and want to be involved in projects!) I'm hoping that a draft in August, with probably a LOT of revisions, will translate to the ability to be able to defend by (or before) October, in order to be "done" before December. Thanks to a lack of financial aid, I'll have to take credits (but do no work) in the spring though I'll be unofficially finished in December. UGH.
Did I mention that I'm teaching 3 classes this summer? One that's fairly intense started yesterday (and it's online). The students are fantastic and have great questions and ideas, but I do feel like this will take more energy and time than I think I'd anticipated.
I guess my plea at this point is just for prayer--energy, sleep, and perseverance are all needed at this point.
We also announced my pregnancy this past Sunday--at 12 weeks. I hope this helps explain some of my quietness for months. It was on the forefront of my mind and I couldn't talk about it. I spent a lot of time sick, and even more just plain exhausted. I'm still trying to recover from the exhaustion, which is tricky with an almost 3 year old in the house who goes through bouts of hating to sleep. In fact, last night was the first night we had a full night of sleep in over a week. At times, I'm overwhelmed by goals I'd set out, thinking that they're completely realistic, but then I'm frustrated when I cannot, for the life of me, finish them on "schedule."
What does this have to do with a dissertation? Quite a lot actually. I'm frustrated and overwhelmed by my last 2 interview transcriptions. I've hired someone to help with the others, but said that I could do these two. I NEED to, as one is a core participant (the second interview with the last life history I have to finish) and the other is an interview that is long, but only a small portion really needs to be transcribed as quite a lot doesn't relate to the subject. We all do our best to leave our personal lives at the door of our work, but the lines inevitably blur. The lack of sleep catches up to us, as do the worries about finishing a dissertation before a second child arrives. I also worry about "pregnancy brain" as I continue to write. Will it be articulate enough? Will it do justice to my method and my participants' stories? Which is more important to me--having a good and finished dissertation or having a fantastic dissertation that I can't defend until after the baby is born? I am leaning towards "good" right now, as I'm terrified of what the first year may have in store for me.
In some ways, being a first time parent in a PhD program was a blessing. I didn't know how hard it could be. Had I known what to expect with the reflux, lack of sleep for about a year and a half (between reflux and teething) and how this would interact with my coursework and TA/RA duties, I think I would have quit. This time, I don't just expect it to be the same, but there's no guarantee the baby won't have reflux--and I'll have his or her big brother to contend with, this child who still hates sleeping and isn't a big fan of listening and who we're just praying we can potty train before we take him to preschool part time in the fall.
The reality is this--I have 3 or 3.5 chapters left to write for the full draft, and I want to get them to my committee by the end of August. I'm tired and while I love what I'm doing, I need to move forward and finish before I get even more overwhelmed. The chapters to write are: 1) the last life history (which I was able to start during "nap" ("no nap!" struggle time) time yesterday) 2) a chapter of 'analysis'/meaning making (which is at least started) and 3) conclusions/implications, as well as the community interview portion of the "ethos of reception" chapter. The problem is that this would still just make a full draft. More lit will need to be added, sections will need to be rearranged, etc. Even thinking about this makes me tired some days. My goal, though, is to simply finish this last core participant interview transcript and life history by the end of May. June is for the analysis chapter, July is for the conclusions chapter, and the community interview stuff will be done in August, since I have to wait on transcripts for that (and pay my wonderful transcriptionist who's also interested in giving feedback for analysis purposes! I love working with people who are blossoming researchers and want to be involved in projects!) I'm hoping that a draft in August, with probably a LOT of revisions, will translate to the ability to be able to defend by (or before) October, in order to be "done" before December. Thanks to a lack of financial aid, I'll have to take credits (but do no work) in the spring though I'll be unofficially finished in December. UGH.
Did I mention that I'm teaching 3 classes this summer? One that's fairly intense started yesterday (and it's online). The students are fantastic and have great questions and ideas, but I do feel like this will take more energy and time than I think I'd anticipated.
I guess my plea at this point is just for prayer--energy, sleep, and perseverance are all needed at this point.
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