The Hate U Give

I stayed up late last night with my 11 year old daughter, watching the movie THUG: The Hate U Give.

I was so starving midway, there I was at 2am, air frying salmon to stay within my weight watcher points. Anyway.

It was an emotional ride showing all sides in the case of police shooting of a black man. It exposed the hard gangster life of the projects and a family’s desire to want more for their kids. It exposed the very stupid moves that fake-thuggers make that gets them killed by assuming cops. I was afraid that it was a little too real for my daughter.

So after the movie ended and we prepped for bed, I asked her this question. I said … what was the most important lesson you learned from this movie? And then I braced myself for the answer. She could have had so many. She could have hated the white cop for killing that black kid. She could have felt angered at the message that she should acknowledge life is unfair and just put her hands up. She could have hated black cops.

But she paused a while and then said … Chose my friends carefully.

I had to pause. And process that. Then I said to her. EXACTLY. You’re exactly right.

She identified with the main character of a Black Girl going to a rich private school. Because that’s who she is. And she drew her own correlations.

But you know what …

The Bible said … shun the very appearance of evil.

My Grandmother said … show me your friends and I’ll tell you who you are.

I read … 2 cant walk together unless they agree.

And I always said to her … take that dam hoodie off your head or I will stop buying you those sweats you like.

I teach her that all lives matter but that her black life matters the most to me. And that’s why I support #blacklivesmatter. Because my color is the weapon that others fear. And I cant put it down. I can only only draw a smile on it.

And with that, we fell asleep.


Another Bad Idea

You know how it goes. I’m with him a lot so I know him. And I want what is best for my son. I’ll even go as far as saying that I know what is best for my son. So I called his Developmental Pediatrician and made the request. I said “Please decrease his dose of Adderal. I think that it’s causing him to tense up and bite his lips.”

That was a bad idea.

By all means, the request was granted! Afterall, it is a controlled substance. There is always the concern of diversion and misuse. So, his requested lower dose Rx was never written faster.

Let me just mention this early on. Adderal does not treat Autism. It will not treat stims. And it does not make your child normal.

But it surely treat Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. And since my little man has been gifted with both Autism and ADHD, you will soon get my title.

Wikepedia being one of my favorite sites, I will quote them: “Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) is a mental disorder of the neurodevelopmental type. It is characterized by difficulty paying attention, excessive activity, or difficulty controlling behavior which is not appropriate for a person’s age. There is also often problems with regulation of emotions. The symptoms appear before a person is twelve years old, are present for more than six months, and cause problems in at least two settings (such as school, home, or recreational activities).In children, problems paying attention may result in poor school performance. Additionally there is an association with other mental disorders and substance misuse. Although it causes impairment, particularly in modern society, many people with ADHD can have sustained attention for tasks they find interesting or rewarding (known as hyperfocus).”

So my hyperfocused, electronics junkie of a 7 year old son was non-stop jumping, squealing, hands flailing, singing, touching, fidgeting, running, and eating out the fridge of all its contents. I was amazed. His home ABA instructors were at loss … as if to say .. who is this kid? You see, they didn’t know him a year ago … off meds.

It is truly amazing to watch how a stimulant, like Adderal, calms a kid who naturally behaves as if his blood runs on expresso. Is there short circuit that occurs? Or does it just line up his neurotransmitters to fire on cue. Either way, he needs more in his life and I’ll be the first to say … Another bad idea, know-it-all mom.

But I won’t give up. He’s counting on me. I got you boo.