ADHD – Life, Liberty and a Little Bit of Libations

September 2, 2017September 3, 2017

The Yellow School Bus

It’s that time of year again! The lazy days of summer are coming to a close and a new school year is about to begin. It’s another year of learning, another year of adventures and another year older. The pencils have been sharpened, the notebooks labeled and the new lunch boxes are ready to go! My days will once again be mine … but my evenings just got much busier.

As a mother of two ADD kids, I do my best to be positive about school and I try hard to keep learning exciting for them. I still love to learn. In my professional life, I take every opportunity I can to understand something better and every family vacation is sure to include some aspect of science and history. I want my children to have the same love of learning that I do.

But my confession is that I dread the start of school as much as my children do. I like to sleep-in. I hate rushing back from my afternoon activities at 3pm for pick-up (no bus service for us). The after-school sports and activities are cumbersome. And the 3-4 hours of assisted homework and assignments are the price we pay for our children’s learning challenges, as take-home work is a necessary part of knowledge retention, I’m sure. But it’s not fun … it’s painful actually. I much prefer learning in the form of snorkeling a reef, hiking a military fort and shouting out state capitals in the car. Don’t get me wrong, the peaceful and open day-times are wonderful …. but they don’t make-up for the non-stop run-around in the afternoons and the tear-filled evenings.

Many days I dream to say “We survived academia!” I long for the moment when their education has paid off and when my evenings are no longer filled with “I don’t want to”, “I don’t understand”, “That’s not how my teacher does it” and “I hate school”… I look forward to the days when their learning is an independent experience … and I’m not the evil cohort who is forcing them into this torturous practice.

But I know that along with that peace and independence will come an empty house, less hugs and a “letting go” that I’m not ready for.

Just like my children, I too, am on a journey and with each passing year I have something more to learn. I need more patience. They need more independence. Together, we need to continue fighting through and building our bond – because one day, they will call me with a challenge far greater than “Mom, my science project is due tomorrow.” And they will rely on my knowledge and experience to get them through … and I will wish that life was once again simpler for them. But I will thank the lucky stars that it was me that they called first.

So for every parent who is going to cry when they put their babes on the school bus … for every parent who at some point this school year will get a phone call from administration reporting that their child has done something that they as a parent never dreamed their kid would do …. for all the parents of children who don’t enjoy school …. for the homework no one understands and the science projects that you learn about the day before they are due … I give you the slightly sweet yet potent:

Yellow School Bus

1/2 cup gin
1/2 cup white rum
1/2 cup vodka
1/2 cup triple sec
1/4 cup amaretto
1/4 cup 151 proof rum
1/4 cup sweetened lime juice
4 cups pineapple juice
2 cups grapefruit juice

Mix all the liquors, then add the juices. Serve cold or over ice.

img_4026-1 img_4027-1 img_4028-1

May your tears be fewer, your stress be lowered and may school be just a little more palatable for ALL parties involved!

This recipe makes a carafe that will last you all week, saving you time later. And just like a school bus, it’s full of lots of different characters! There’s enough alcohol that its sure to be effective. And because there’s pineapple and grapefruit juice in it … you can start at 9 am and nobody’s gonna judge 😉 LOL

Happy First Day of School! Good luck!

May 10, 2017May 10, 2017

Teacher Appreciation

chalk board pic for blog

It was her 2nd grade teacher and the year that she was diagnosed with ADHD. Before that, I had heard some suggestions that my daughter “worked slower than most” but this was the year that it all came to a head. Our weekly meetings always included “not prepared for class” and “finishes last”. There were daily e-mails and continued efforts to “find a way that works” but with an open classroom and a teacher who didn’t “get it”, we didn’t get very far. She was my first child and I was at a loss. I didn’t know where to go or what to do next.

The evaluation process is a long one and while I went through the motions of establishing a diagnosis, the struggle in the classroom increased. When I said that my daughter “cried everyday when she walked out of school”, the teacher said, “I don’t see that.” When I said, “She’s very aware of her deficit and she hates being last to finish”, the teacher said, “She doesn’t show any reaction in my classroom.” When I said, with printed studies in hand, “You must stop keeping her in from recess everyday to finish classwork,” She said, “Ok” and then did it again anyway. It took 5 meetings and a threat to go to the board to get that recess punishment to stop.

I don’t know if that teacher ever knew just how broken my child’s spirit was that year. I don’t know if I even knew just how broken it was…until she started to get better. A spirit that is slowly diminishing is sometimes harder to identify than one that is coming back to life. Second grade ended in mere survival mode with therapy appointments that I made during school hours so that she could get a break from classroom time and eat ice-cream after her session before I returned her to her classroom. If I could have home-schooled her, I would have. We made it…but just barely!

It was 3rd grade when I started opening the school year with an e-mail introducing my daughter and her 504 plan to the teachers. Explaining her learning needs with an absence of behavioral problems and what she and I’s expectations were seemed to help. Third grade improved with teachers and a mother who had more understanding and more skills.

But it was 4th grade and the teacher who took a few days to respond to my e-mail that really changed everything. When your momma-bear instincts and your skill for writing both come colliding together, I’m sure it’s a little intimidating. At first, I was concerned as to why the teacher wasn’t getting back to me immediately. But when her response came, I was reassured as she apologized for the delay and explained that she wanted to give my thoughts and concerns her utmost time and attention. She gently reassured me of her various outlets within the classroom for children to “get-away” when they needed to and of her system of positive reinforcement. She embraced the open lines of communication and ensured me that she’d keep an eye on my girl.

And then something magical happened. Instead of calling me in for a face-to-face meeting, like every other teacher had when they saw my e-mail, she met with my daughter. She took my daughter aside during quiet work and talked to her about her ADHD. She explained that her sister also had the disorder and she remembers how hard school was for her. She gave her options of places to go, within the classroom, when she needed a two-minute break and she gave her a little dollar-store figit toy. And for the rest of the year she praised her and loved her.

When my daughter didn’t finish all of her work, the teacher sent it home with her… she didn’t punish her. When she performed poorly on an exam, the teacher didn’t show her disappointment, she encouraged her to keeping working hard. She was the teacher with an open-door policy for the kids to come and talk to her and she taught most of her lessons on the floor or jumping around the room and engaging the kids. She told her kids they could do anything they set their minds to and she believed in them. It wasn’t just my child that she touched. There were many that for one reason or another needed encouragement. She was really good at encouraging them.

While her grades improved, my daughter didn’t become a straight-A student that year. In fact, she didn’t even make the honor roll. But what she did do was far richer. She began to like herself again. She began to appreciate school and for the first time ever… she was excited to learn and she loved her teacher. That year, my daughter came back to life.
Every year since that second grade year, I am filled with anxious anticipation when the new school year starts. A PTSD of sorts, I am afraid of encountering another teacher who “doesn’t get it”. But then I remember sweet Ms.Atherholt who with her courage, understanding, kindness and enthusiasm dragged my little girl out of the darkness and into the light. She too… left that following year and I wrote her a letter thanking her for saving my little girl. I hope she knows that I meant it.

For all the teachers out there who take the extra minutes during quiet time to talk to a troubled student, who hand them a secret little dollar store prize when they see that they need it, who love what they do and show it…. I thank you from the bottom of my heart!

You carry the ability to build up or break down any child. All of the therapy and paternal support in the world can’t fix a teacher who lacks empathy and support and it can’t replace a teacher who does either! Kids spend 35 hours a week with their teachers. That’s a lot of opportunity to influence. Thank you for making that influence a positive one!

There is no doubt that you guys hold one of, if not the most important jobs for our future and yet, you are grossly under-paid and under-appreciated. I long for the day that all teachers are held to the same high standards of performance and are paid accordingly. I long for education at the primary and secondary levels to be highly respected and sought-after positions and I’ll do everything in my power as a citizen to help make that happen. In the meantime, I hope that you hear, from this mother, that I see your hard work and I know how much patience and at-home time goes into it and I appreciate you!

For Ms.A and all the other teachers out there who use their heart, their skill and their education to not just make a living but to make a difference. Thank you!

Nurses and teachers share a week for a reason…because we both save lives.

Happy Teachers Week!

April 28, 2017May 10, 2017

Confessions of an ADHD Mom

ADHD sucks. Like I mean, it really sucks. While I’m sure I have a mild case of it myself and I’ve learned how to cope with it…I never fully appreciated the struggle that is ADHD until I had kids with the diagnosis.

Of all the diagnoses there are in the world, ADHD has got to be on the incredibly low end of the spectrum. I mean there’s cancer, there’s severe autism, cerebral palsy, mental illness…there are legit syndromes and conditions that are debilitating and life threatening! Who cares about a little attention and focus disorder?
I guess that’s what I always thought and why I never lent it much respect. Get over yourself and the fact that your kid’s not “perfect” and deal with it. Ohhh….so sorry for you that you have to be involved in their schoolwork….poor you!

Let me tell you…I’m a pretty tough cookie and I have shed more tears over my children’s struggles with ADHD than just about any of my other struggles. Why? Mostly because they’re my babies and anything that causes them angst causes me double. But also because I had no clue just how hard the journey was until I walked it.

Let me paint you the picture:
It’s you’re first baby, going to school for the first time. You can’t wait to see what adventures she takes and the new things she’ll learn. You’re welcoming the break during the day and excited for her to meet new friends. You send her off to school with her new shoes and back-pack aaaaaand ….she ends up hating school. She cries before she goes and she cries when she comes home. When you ask her how her day was her report is either a play-by-play of everyone who walked past the classroom door or a complaint that it was “too hard” or “too long”. Homework is a chore and once she reaches upper elementary it takes her hours. You talk to other parents and they seem puzzled by your experience. “Oh really, my kids love school! They feel sad when they miss it!” “Four hours for homework!?!? Oh my! No, little Suzy never spends more than 30 minutes!” Parent teacher conferences become something you dread because your kid is never keeping up. You are told that they are a “joy to have in class…but”. There’s always a “but”. At report card time Facebook is flooded with honor roll and straight A posts…and you’re still waiting for your turn. While your friends report their kids go up to their rooms and independently do their homework, you sit at the dining room table with yours for hours. Homework is never done before dinner time which means answering questions and redirecting in between stirring the pasta and chopping the veggies. Your evenings are no longer yours and day hours are speckled with sending e-mails to teachers about missed assignments and falling grades. While you once longed for the days you could get a break by sending your kids to school, you now dread that institution as much as the kids do.

ADHD robs you of your time and sanity, but that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that you have to see your children’s tears hit their notebook paper and watch their frustration, every day. You have to see their faces red with embarrassment when they forgot their homework…again. You have to know that every so many days they go without eating because they forgot their lunch and they just don’t want to call you to bring it, again. You hear them say, “No I’m not” when you tell them that they are smart and look into their disappointed eyes when they missed honor roll…..again. ADHD it seems, is an endless stream of disappointing “agains”. You have to know that despite your best efforts and the practices you’ve put into place to help them succeed, you still have to let them learn the hard way in order to find their most effective coping mechanisms. That constant stream of trials and errors is painful to watch. It’s a disorder for which medication is controversial and you can’t fix it.

I’ve spent an hour trying to convince my child to stop rolling around on the floor and sit up at the table to do their homework. And I’ve broken them by demanding that they “Knock it off, sit up and get it done or else!” I’ve given them the simplest directions of writing just one sentence and returned 20 minutes later to find an empty page. I have broken down a one page reading assignment into sentence fragments (Think about that!) to make it easier to understand. I’ve spent 8 hours trying to help them write one paragraph and days trying to re-organize their rooms. I’ve bought the entire school supply list 5x over because everything kept “getting lost” and I’ve restocked the nurses “snack cabinet” from all of the times my children have borrowed from it when they forgot their lunch. I’ve never had the luxury of missing a parent-teacher conference and I’ve got every teacher’s e-mail memorized.

But I’ve also watched my child earn the honor roll after 13 worthy but failed attempts. That’s a celebration! I’ve seen the relief of finishing a day-long assignment wash over their face. And I’ve heard from parents and teachers alike that I have “really wonderful children”. My children have had the opportunity to learn from a young age that their disability isn’t an excuse not to succeed. They are learning to work hard now.

I know that there are so many, much worse conditions that my children could be plagued with. They are healthy. They are kind. They are great kids! I wouldn’t trade them for every last dollar on the planet and I love them more anything in this world. They are my everything!

I am a stronger person because of it and one day I might be able to use this journey to help others…. But ADHD still sucks. Just because it’s not the worst thing that could happen, doesn’t make it easy. I have to deal with it but I’m allowed not to like it. 5 years ago we got our first diagnosis and many days I’m still overwhelmed. I am a strong person and I still privately cry when I see them struggle. I am proactive and work to get them accommodations and help them learn coping skills but I still ache for school and organization to be easier for them. And when it became clear that my second child needed to be evaluated too…I cried even more. I really really didn’t want to walk down that road again. Because it’s a hard road.

But it’s our road…so I’ll walk it with them…hand in hand…with a sticky note reminder on their binder and an extra pencil in my pocket. And we’ll be ok…. crappy ol’ ADHD and all.

Yellow School Bus

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