I Never Knew

As a kid, my brothers, sisters, and I all seemed like we were immune to poison ivy.

Well, except Matt.

Bottom line: I never learned any of the treatments other than "don't roll around in it." (After all, it was Matt's problem).

Now I'm older and quite susceptible. I got a patch on my calf a couple of weeks back and decided every vine along our fences had to go. They would have gone sooner if my brush killer spray had not broken the moment I tried to use it (cheap plastic - my grip isn't that massive!).

Thursday, I made good on my promise. I filled up a contractor bag full of vines and weeds, but some of the little stinks managed to tag me. I knew better than to itch, but a leaf must have nailed me in the crook of my elbow. That got smeared around nicely.

Before this sounds like a "woe is me" post, I discovered a poison ivy treatment.

I turn the hottest water I can bear on the rash.

It's borderline euphoric and completely counter-intuitive. I found myself thinking "this is probably so bad, but it feels so good!" so I checked the internet. Apparently, I re-discovered common knowledge. The hot water causes the itch to go into overdrive, the body/nerves/brain does something crazy, and then the itch is gone for the next chunk of time.

It sucks most of the time, but I never knew poison ivy could feel good. I'm tempted to go jam my arm under the kitchen faucet before bed to get my 'fix.'

I bring this up, because of Shane. I was trying to protect him from the ivy (parents do that), but in the end I proved where some of his behaviors come from. The therapists noted Shane was sensory seeking long ago, and it definitely comes from me. I always assumed my sensory seeking was more or less normal (and maybe it is for us ADHD types), but there have been a few times I've begun to think otherwise.

For example: One fine evening, Shane was playing peek-a-boo or some other game with his hands around his face with Carrie. He looked up and said "I see two Mommies!"

Carrie was startled.

I looked over and said, "Oh, he's pressing on his eyeball and it's giving him double vision. No poke eyes, Shane!"

Carrie looked at me funny.

"What, you never did that as a kid?" I said. "You do a gentle poke" which I did, "and now I see double."

Carrie kept looking at me funny.

There have been other times when I've noticed Shane getting excited by smelling different seasonings or playing with different textures. I wonder if he's going to keep pursuing sensory stimulation as he gets older (and I hope he stays away from drugs, alcohol an tobacco!). I also wonder if he's going to have my ADHD.

I've been meaning to write about what having ADHD is like for me, but I've yet to get around to it. Here's a quick sneak peek. Multiple sensory inputs (particularly tactile ones) can actually help focus me when I'm suffering from an acute outbreak of shiny-itis.

Several of my more observant students over the years have noticed I tend to play with my lanyard, stuff a pencil behind my ear, and pick up random objects to fiddle with while teaching. There have been many times I have accidentally walked off twirling a pencil that wasn't mine as a baffled student sat in my wake wondering where their writing utensil had disappeared to. I am fond of ripping off a piece of tape to play with while I work, as well. Sometimes, in the spirit of generosity and understanding, I'll hand out tape to some of my more scatter-brained kids for them to play with. Results are varied, but usually no one is hurt and my lesson moves on.

Many of my ADHD kids I work with get a kick out of knowing I have what they have. I'm just way better at maximizing the pros and hiding the cons.

Well, that turned out to be a much longer post than I expected. I meant to mention the ivy, transitioned to Shane (as any obnoxious parent can do), jumped to ADHD and now I'm breaking the fourth wall.

Rambling post is done and posted for now.