One of the things I have learned and have had reinforced on an almost daily basis is that raising children is not an easy deal. In fact, for many of us it's the toughest, most challenging thing we ever do. And we're not just talking about raising kids with developmental issues. It's the "typical" ones that have you pulling your hair out and keep you up at night worrying about tomorrow (let alone their futures), to which many of our parents will attest.

I have had many professional moms leave their careers for periods of time to concentrate on their kids, who discover that really doing the job with their child or children is tougher than being a doctor or a lawyer or running a company. Kids aren't easy!

Sadly, kids are not only not easy, they also require and demand that we be the best we can be, and that we stay at the top of our game, day after day and week after week.

Unfortunately, unless we parents are doing something to maintain or build our own basic abilities, we start to lose our processing power. (Let's hope it was really good to start with.) As supported by the data in our Simply Smarter Project and the work of other researchers, our short-term and working memory often begin to decline in our twenties. The exceptions are those whose work and lives keep presenting new challenging information and problems to solve and those who actively work to maintain and develop their basic mental/neurological foundation, including their short-term memory, working memory, and executive function.

I believe that our moms who are actively working with their kids on their NACD program are probably maintaining fairly well, except for those who can't get 8 hours of sleep, maintain a good diet, get exercise at least three days a week, and have time to take care of their mental health and basic brain function. (Perhaps it is a rather short list after all.)

 

My husband Bill, who had adopted Justin after our marriage, really thought I was not being realistic about Justin's potential. It seemed to him that I needed to appreciate the gains Justin had made and move on. This is not to blame him, but to acknowledge that working an intensive program requires a strong support system. My solution was to do everything I could afford that might help Justin, without spending the number of hours each day true recovery required, in hopes that Justin would make some gains anyway. He had personal trainers for several years, which provided a great social outlet-Justin has always been a sports fan-so working out in a gym was perfect. Justin had fun and that helped me. I wasted other time and money, always in hopes of helping Justin. The unfortunate reality is that there are so many useless therapies out there; and those of us with hurt children will try most anything. 

We tried hyperbaric oxygen therapy and neurofeedback-neither was cheap-and neither improved Justin's function enough to justify either the expense or time spent. Both made him calmer for a brief time. What I always believed was that since Justin was still just a young man, somehow I would get him to where he belonged. And the only person I knew who understood this was Bob. I kept this inside in hopes that someday something would happen to allow us to return to NACD. 

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At home we somehow managed to corral him and keep him safe, but going in public with Luke was our worst nightmare.  I had to put him into a baby sling on my body when going to the grocery store, which he hated, and he would fight me to get out the entire time I was there. I would go home completely exhausted from the trip. He constantly wanted to run around no matter where we were, and we never knew what he would do to embarrass us-not intentionally, of course. He had no idea what he was doing; it was as if he was acting on pure instinct. He didn't interact with anyone, had no language, and made no eye contact. We weren't even sure whether he knew who we were; he seemed unaware that we were present. Before his diagnosis, a couple of times we left him with a trusted sitter, but he never noticed that we were gone and displayed no emotion to us coming home like our daughter would. Looking into his eyes, all we met was emptiness, there was no recognition of anything.