Here we go again--another school year, and with it, another round of Laying Down the Law. I do it every September--advise Bob (my son, who has bipolar disorder and ADHD) of what is expected of him in terms of his scholastic efforts. And every year, I ask myself (and everyone else)--Am I expecting too much? Are my standards too high?

Tomorrow, my children will both go back to school. (Excuse me while I do a little dance and high-five myself for having lived through--and allowed them to live through--this very long summer.) The school supplies are ready, the new clothes are in the washing machine as we speak--all in anticipation of a new school year. "Back to School" night was Monday, and we've already met Bob's fourth-grade teacher and know who his classmates are. We are completely prepared. Or are we?

It seems Bob has officially won this round of "Stump the Therapist." She admitted today she isn't quite sure what to do with him at this point; that she can't determine how much of his problem stems from impulse control issues, and how much is just an "I don't give a s**t" attitude.

It’s been a pretty quiet week on the homefront. No real “Boblems” to speak of. I know it won’t last, but I’m enjoying it to the fullest. As always, we are left wondering—to what do we owe the pleasure? Is it the recent increase in Bob’s Focalin dose? The extended period of sunshine we’ve been blessed with? Bob’s bipolar disorder just cycling through to a “baseline” state?

I was recently asked, "Does Bob have an IEP?" No, he doesn't--here's why.

If you listen to my audio posts, you know I was rather unhappy with Bob last Thursday afternoon. It seems he'd spent the majority of the past 48 hours being completely unruly (to put it mildly), including shoving classmates, throwing pencils at his teacher, and being a general pain. And the school music program, which Bob was required to attend as part of his music grade, was in just a few short hours. Yaaaaaay.

We may not know exactly why, but as parents of children with psychiatric conditions affected by season changes (seasonal affective disorder, SAD), we can be pretty certain when our kids are going to develop their own version of "spring fever." The question is--what can we do about it?

Ah, spring. The days get longer, the nights get shorter. Warm breezes threaten the remaining snow drifts from winter's storms. Almost as soon as the groundhog sees its shadow, swimsuits and light jackets appear in stores. Valentine's candy is replaced by Easter candy and all the bunnies, green grass, and baby chicks you can handle. Even if you live under a rock and miss all these signs, you'll know spring is on its way when you call your child's therapist and find her booked through mid-July. It seems spring not only brings out the birds, bunnies and chocolate eggs with gooey filling. It also brings out the crazy.

Today's Phone Call from School involved a camera. My first (horrified) thought was that Bob had been sneaking bathroom-cam video of his female classmates, but it wasn't quite that serious. He had merely taken his camera to school, insisted on having it out during class, and refused to put it away. But when the teacher took it from him, his anger escalated to the point he shoved another student, threw a book, and ran out of the classroom. Staff found him hiding in the restroom and the principal escorted him to the office. And it's only Tuesday morning (What Works When Disciplining a Child with Mental Illness).

Last night, I picked up Bob from his weekly visit to his father's house. As we pulled into our garage, he reached for his backpack and said, "Oh, no, I left my homework at my Dad's." And so begins the internal conflict every parent experiences at one time or another--when do you cut the kid some slack, and when do you play hardball?