ADHD Mom: Fun With Amphetamines

Feb 22, 2015 by

Yeah, I'm gonna need some stronger stuff.

Yeah, I’m gonna need some stronger stuff for this.

A thing that happens when you’re diagnosed with ADHD at the age of 35, after quite a bit of life experience, is that you suddenly look back on all the work you’ve done in school, your career, etc., and wonder how much more you could have accomplished if you had been diagnosed earlier. You speculate whether you could have been more productive and accomplished had you known earlier on that the dragons you were always trying to slay were just a tad bit stronger and deadlier than those most people need to deal with. The same principle applies with a late diagnosis of depression or anxiety, or the fun combination of both that I have. But ADHD is its own special pain in the ass, because it is the definition of anti-productivity. Its primary afflictions are those that impact our executive functioning: the ability to plan and organize, focus our attention, utilize our working memory, inhibit our impulses in order to carry out the task at hand, exercise patience when sorting through a difficult task or unexpected roadblock, and solve problems. Neurotypical folks usually take the executive functions for granted, because to them, they are as automatic and natural as breathing. And many of us who are diagnosed with ADHD in adulthood have spent our lives unconsciously compensating for these deficits with our strengths in other areas.

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Parenting, Pride, and a Poem. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Feb 15, 2015 by



When you become a parent, you don’t change completely.  You change, yes, but it’s more that being a parent becomes an aspect of you.  YOU do not change.  You are still yourself, fundamentally.  Even as parenting shapes you over time, you never lose yourself entirely.  Instead of trading in your old identity for the role of Mom, at your core, you remain exactly who you are.  Do not forget this.

I used to write poetry, among other things.  I happened upon a poem I wrote back in October.  I’d like to share it with you now, even though it has nothing to do with parenting.  It also seems fitting for Valentine’s Day weekend, though I’m not certain why:

Guns and Tulips

For you, the toughness is a season
Interwoven, the highest form
returning to that place when you are tired.

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“Why Is Everyone the Same Color?” Race, School, Cartoons, and My Kid.

Feb 8, 2015 by

Sailor Moon Fan Art by Mommy and Mackenzie, Age 4.

Sailor Moon fan art by Mommy & Mackenzie, Age 4.

The girls and I were watching a cartoon the other day.  At one point, my older daughter gave me a puzzled look and said, “hey, why is everyone the same color?”

“You mean, their skin?” I asked.

“Yeah.”  Wow.  I was dumbfounded.  “Hmm, I don’t know.  That’s strange, right?  Not at all like at school?”  She nodded.  She went back to watching the show.

Indeed, every character in that cartoon was white.  (Well, actually, they probably only appeared to be white — but I’ll get to that in a minute.)

So at this point, I am mentally patting myself on the back.  I win at parenting!  I have taught my daughter to be race conscious and to value diversity!  Or have I?

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Why Parents Have a Hard Time Talking to Teachers About Their Children’s Needs

Jan 25, 2015 by

1024px-Pink_Pearl_eraserThe girl’s violence struck the library like a bolt of lightning, drawing a gasp from the teacher and the librarian alike. Awkwardness soon followed the initial shock, and then the two adults exchanged a glance for a shrug. It was over. The teacher continued shuttling the children out into the hallway, back to the kindergarten classroom. The girl joined sullenly, her dark features receding as thoughts quickly turned to the remainder of the day ahead.

Just a moment ago, the girl had asked to see a book – the book the librarian had just finished reading to the class. The book made her angry. Some character, a silly anthropomorphism, had been wronged in some manner. The plot had concluded without the wrong being righted. It made her furious. On the way out of the library, as Mrs. Kelland’s kindergarten class fidgeted and bobbed along in their straight little line, she took the opportunity to break away and ask to see the book. The request was granted, and the girl smacked the book hard and fast with an open palm, more than once, and yelled the worst admonishment she knew at the age of five: BAD!!!

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My Defining Moment As a Parent Was One of Non-Definition

Jan 16, 2015 by

Apollo and Diana Attacking the Children of Niobe

Apollo and Diana Attacking the Children of Niobe Jacques-Louis David, 1772 (Via Wikimedia Commons)

Many parents come to a place of reflection where they look back at their child-raising adventures thus far and consider their defining moment, or moments, in parenthood. In my case, it only hit me that I had arrived here upon letting go of the notion that I needed to have such a defining moment.

Being Mommy was really a novelty at first. I’m sure it’s this way for most of us. I really never envisioned myself as a mother, even though I strangely suspected that I would have little ones in tow one day. Maybe I thought this because it’s what most of us are expected to do.

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