The Gnome

We started calling Stevie, "the Gnome" about 90 minutes after he was born. There he was, nursing like a trooper, with that little hospital hat on his head. He fell off my breast, blissfully drunk on milk. Don looked at our new boy and said, "he looks like a Hobbit. No, wait. A gnome."

36 hours of labor, where I was stuck in one position on that horrible bed, where the only fun was listening to hours of Miles Davis, and I have a gnome. Very well then.

The gnome was different from Donnie (the football, in case you are interested) from the very beginning. He caught on to nursing immediately and he didn't sleep as well as his big brother. He also had to deal with the fact that his 1.5 hour long nursing sessions were often interrupted by the needs of Donnie. Donnie was two, and didn't understand why I couldn't play with him when the baby needed to eat.

Consequently, I often had to literally tear myself away from Stevie to help Donnie out with something. I worried at the time this would have a long lasting effect on my gnome. That he would be one of those children who acts up, just to get attention. That he would do anything to get the often divided attention of his mother.

Stevie has been having a lot of trouble at school lately. That's a lie. Not just lately, but since he was two years old. The teacher in his 2 year old class was great. She and the gnome had a special relationship and she knew how to get him in line. She also knew that his grandparents worked in the church offices one floor below the day care center and she could bring him to grandma or grandpa for a talking to within a minute.

When he moved into the 3's things got worse. I was constantly getting notes home about how wild he had been at school that day, or that he was refusing to clean up messes. "The gnome screamed in the classroom today. He will only be quiet on the playground." "The gnome was very disruptive at nap time."

I had a meeting with the director of the center about 6 months ago. She suggested going through our school district and getting Stevie into speech therapy, just has we had for Donnie. The difference is that Donnie had disfluency and articulation issues. He needed speech therapy. Stevie has no disfluencies, his vocabulary is off the charts and he has no articulation issues.

He moved into the 4's and the problems have continued. But, much like when he was in the 3's, the teachers have stopped going down to get grandma and grandpa.

I have talked to him about it. Stevie tells me that he can't help it. It is just too loud in his classroom. Don't get me wrong, he isn't mean or aggressive. Stevie is the happiest child that I have ever met. He is so full of life. The problem is that he gets excited -- too excited -- all the time. In those moments, he doesn't seem to have any impulse control.

When I took the boys for their annual check up yesterday, Stevie was in full Stevie form. He was bouncing off the walls and was SUPER EXCITED to see the doctor.

When I mentioned the impulse control issues, our wonderful pediatrician gave me a look that clearly said, "no kidding?!

In the end, he gave me contact information for a doctor who could begin the process of an ADHD evaluation. My heart sank a little, but I must admit that I wasn't surprised. Don was diagnosed with ADHD as a child. Stories about his childhood are regular fodder for his family gatherings. I must have heard a hundred times about how Ritalin had the opposite effect on him.

I mentioned this to the doctor and told him that Don and I are reluctant to medicate Stevie. We aren't blind, we could see this coming in the last year or so. Thankfully, our pediatrician feels just as strong as we do on this issue. He referred me to two groups who, after diagnosis, begin drug free treatments. From what I understand, if we are really looking at ADHD, medication will be used as a last resort. He did warn me that it is going to be very difficult. Each person who cares for Stevie will have to be consistent with the response to his behavior.

I have been out of law school for over a year. I am about a month shy of the one year anniversary of the day I passed the bar exam. I haven't had anything going on that one would describe as "really hard" for a while. It looks like it is time to get back on that horse.

I love how full of life my little gnome is. I worry that our desire to calm him will kill some of that spark that I love so much. Last year when we were having so many problems with Donnie's teacher, I kept thinking "you are trying to kill all of the things that I love so much about him." I hope that isn't what will happen here.

ADHD seems so mundane compared to what so many of you are going through with your children. I feel selfish for letting this worry me.

It never works when a woman meets a man and says, "I love you. . . . Change." Is that what I am doing here with the gnome?