Wedded...bliss?

I've had ADD my whole life, but I've only tried medication as an adult. It helped, somewhat, but I am so anti-medication that I couldn't ever come to peace with it, and discontinued it myself.

I have a hard time getting and staying organized. I lose things. I'm always late. I forget things. It affects my friendships. It's hard having ADD.

But it's not as hard as it is being married to someone with ADD.

Last weekend, I had an aha moment that changed my whole view of it. I honestly don't remember what started the argument (shocker) but B and I started having a heated discussion. It wasn't a fight, which is great, because I actually listened and learned from it.

My husband is so methodical in everything.he.does. He doesn't do anything impulsively. When he says he is going to do something, he does it. He creates places for things and keeps them there. He's never late.

So being married to someone like me? It's not easy. He'll tell you that he loves me with everything he has and that he'd marry me all over again if he had the choice. And he's not lying.

But it's still not easy.

It's not easy to be married to someone who seemingly ignores you when you tell her that tripping over her shoes drives you crazy. Because even though you do what she asks, she apparently could care less about your pet peeve, and never puts them away. Ever.

It's not easy to be married to someone who constantly interrupts you. And invariably wants to tell you a story that she forgot to tell you earlier - the second that you lie down and turn your favorite show on. And when you do want to ask her something, she ignores you but starts yet another Very Important Story.

It's not easy to be married to someone who is asking you to help her find things multiple times, without fail, every single day. Who is ridiculously messy, but goes into panic mode and needs the house cleaned immediately if the mess becomes too chaotic.

It's not easy to be married to someone who seems to be disrespectfully oblivious.

This weekend, he told me that - in a very methodical, to-the-point way, of course.

I took it to heart. I apologized and got defensive, and got distracted. Then, finally, for the first time after six years of my asking, B read a couple of articles explaining that people with ADD truly aren't being rude; it's an actual disorder. That often, they use every ounce of holding-it-together at work and by the time they get home, they have nothing left.

So now I'm wrestling with medicine vs. natural supplements vs. new home strategies. Regardless of what I decide, I'm just thrilled that I was able to see the aha moment before getting distracted by something shiny.

If you have ADD or are married to someone who does, I'd love some your magical tips and tricks.

In the meantime, namaste'.

He's worth it.

I'm a procrastinator. I have ADD. Sometimes, these two diagnoses come crashing together and the result isn't pretty. Case in point: the Friday before Father's Day. My friend Elizabeth graciously agreed to take some photos to create a gift for B. The following is a moment-by-moment recap of that day. I couldn't make this up if I tried.

8:00 Tell myself I cannot! be! late! because every single time Elizabeth and I have met up for a playdate/yoga class/church event I am running in apologizing for whatever went wrong this time. This is my ever-tardy life. I swear I have Time Dysmorphic Disorder. Or something.

8:30 Finish preparing L and G's breakfasts (gluten-free french toast sticks which L announced "Doze smell dewicious!" upon my opening the oven, and bananas and gluten-free pancakes, respectively).

8:33 Sit down at my computer to eat my own oatmeal, telling myself I have seven minutes to eat it, and check in with my Tweeps.

8:58 Realize that once again I have fallen into the time suck vortex that is TweetDeck and jump up, looking longingly at my laptop, knowing I will miss the cutest Twitpic/funniest RT ever...but oh, yeah, the pictures.

9:02 Explain to L why exactly he can't wear his faded, misshapen and favorite tee for photos. Put four choices of "button shirts"(aka polos) on his bed. Know he's going to choose the Superman logo one before he even glances at them.

9:04 Attempt to find a shirt for G that is neither matchy-matchy nor clashy-clashy with the Superman polo.

9:05 Sigh over my lack of fashion know-how.

9:06 Start to wrestle G into a cute outfit. Realize he hasn't had a bath in a day and a half. Consider the time. Sniff his head. Look around for yummy lotion. Shrug, sigh,and continue wrestling match, hoping no one else sniffs too deeply or too long.

9:10 Find L in front of the tv, dialed into the kiddie crack that is Curious George, donned in his Superman polo....and nothing else. Throw khaki shorts at him and move on to my own closet.

9:15 After holding L and G in front of me in the full-length mirror, decide on a shirt that hopefully works with theirs, and is one of B's favorites. Sigh again at my lack of fashion sense.

9:17 Start to do my hair and makeup, allowing G to rifle under the sink, happily emptying boxes of tampons and attempting to eat paper towels. Consider taking a photo of my messy bathroom floor and baby with paper towels in his mouth. For Twitter. Say, aloud, "G. Focus."

9:19 Thank my lucky stars that B likes my hair the best in a ponytail because I am such a hot mess right now that there is no other option.

9:23 Ask L to look at Daddy's clock and tell me what numbers he sees. Have a mini heart attack when he responds with "Nine....five...two." (He knows his numbers full well. I think the Curious George got to his brain for a minute.)

9:33 Get the boys in the car, pull out of the driveway, and pat myself on the back for leaving within 5 minutes of my goal time, with everything I needed.

9:34 Drive back home to check to make sure I closed the garage door. Like every other freaking day, roll my eyes at myself when I realize that of course, it's closed.

10:02 Pull into Elizabeth's driveway and say a silent prayer of thanks that the rain hasn't started yet.

10:15 Pictures are done. Elizabeth is a genius. Let the boys start to play and have a friendly debate with Elizabeth over whether the overly sensitive or overly tough boy is the bigger difficulty. Wonder how on God's green earth I can teach L not to cry at every little thing considering I burst into tears on a regular basis.

10:37 Bring the boys inside as a storm threatens to roll over. Tell L he has five minutes; that we don't want to take all of Elizabeth's day, even though I am tempted to pitch a tent in her living room due to the fact that the adult conversation is so satisfying. Nurse G on the couch as Elizabeth brings the 2398 toys inside. Feel guilty and send L out to help. Feel only minimally less guilty.

10:45 Allow the boys to negotiate us downstairs into the playroom. Again, give a five minute warning.

11:00 End up in costume as a Roman guard and begin giving orders, all of which involve various yoga poses to the boys, who are in superhero costumes.

11:20 Exchange glances with Elizabeth as a deafening clap of thunder sounds.

11:25 The lights go out. Feel around to find G, and bring the boys upstairs. Give L another five minute warning. Agree with Elizabeth when she suggests that perhaps I need to stay longer than five minutes, considering the severe storm.

11:30 The lights come back on. The rain is still pouring. Laugh at the boys who are still running around in their costumes.

12:30 After countless five-minute warnings (mom fail say what?) get everyone packed up. L realizes he left his beloved green car at Elizabeth's. Consider going back in, think twice, and send her a text to ask her to look for it.

12:31-1:00 Listen to L whine about his green car all the way home. Wonder how he even knows he has a green car when he has 20396583 stupid matchbox cars. Marvel at the fact that my girl parts take away all understanding of anything car-related.

1:01 Get home and count silently to ten when L says, "Oh! It was in my pocket da whole time! Dat was silly!" Send Elizabeth an apologetic text.

1:03 Get a random inspirational idea for Father's Day gifts and call the pottery painting place to see if I can talk them into firing the pieces we paint today for Father's Day. Cheer loudly when they say yes, likely scaring the girl into thinking a wack-job is about to grace her presence.

1:03-1:25 Run, literally, around the kitchen, making a gluten-free, casein-free, soy-free pizza for L (that pizza deserves its own post), throwing together a lunch for G, eating pizza while I change my wet clothes, G's diaper, and pray that skipping naps won't bite me in the butt later.

1:40 Arrive at the pottery center, pick out gifts for my dad and B. Argue momentarily with L over making a gecko for my father, then choose to pick my battles and go with said gecko.

2:00 When L declares "I'm all done, I don't wanna paint anymore," bribe him with a cherry limeade if he'll just please finish Daddy's gift. Tell myself that not all parenting moments are proud ones.

2:15 Drive through Sonic's line and order myself a medium Dr. Pepper due to the gigantic headache that has begun behind my left eye.

2:17 Wish I had ordered a large Dr. Pepper as I consider licking the ice for caffeine remnants.

2:33 Try not to cry as L announces that he has to go potty right now. Pull into Walgreens, thinking that at least I can print the photos that Elizabeth took.

2:34 Really try not to cry when I realize that G has fallen asleep and I must carry his extraordinarily heavy seat into Walgreens and attempt to not wake him.

2:55 Forcibly unclench my teeth as L is still on the potty, underwear and shorts on the ground. At least we have made some progress in the fact that he no longer removes his shoes and socks in public restrooms. Sigh. Continue to rock G's carseat, shushing and shushing and whispering to L to please hurry.

2:56 Come thisclose to losing it as a woman walks in to the bathroom, accidentally wakes up G, and he begins to wail at the realization that he is sleeping in a Walgreens bathroom with a strange (in many senses of the word) woman staring at him.

2:57 Finally leave the Walgreens bathroom. FINALLY.

3:03 After painstakingly picking out Father's Day cards, make it to the photo kiosk and ask the man if this is the machine that prints photos immediately. Consider throat-punching him when he says that they don't have that feature; they'll take at least an hour. Decide to drive to the Walgreens that is only 4 minutes from my house rather than driving past two to pick up these prints later.

3:15 Arrive at other Walgreens to realize that the photo CD is nowhere to be found. Remember that I remarked on it to the woman in the checkout line when I bought the Father's Day cards. Call her, voice breaking, asking if it is still on the counter. Die a little inside when she says no.

3:16 Begin driving back to other Walgreens, instructing L to pray that we find the CD, for surely children's prayers are more powerful. Say my own prayer that no one has run over it in the parking lot.

3:25 FIND THE CD, dirty but seemingly unharmed, in the parking lot. L and I pray, "Thank you, God" aloud.

3:35 Make it back to the other Walgreens, attempting to ignore my desperately-needing-to-be-emptied tatas.

3:40 Stand at photo kiosk and tell L that he will have to wait to go potty till we get home, because this mommy can only take one Walgreens potty trip per day. Ignore the crotch holding pee-pee dance.

3:45 Hustle boys outside and into car, wishing that the Dr. Pepper I bought earlier had actually been a Route 44.

4:00 Get home, thankful that L made it to the potty. Tell L in no uncertain terms that he should not tell Daddy about any of the surprises from today.

4:13 Remind L again not to tell Daddy the secrets about the presents. L agrees emphatically.

4:38 Ask L if he's going to tell Daddy about the gifts. L shakes his head and says, "No way, Mommy."

4:50 Give one more reminder about the gifts. Feel pretty confident that L will keep his mouth shut.

5:00 B gets home, early for the first time ever!

5:02 L announces, "Daddy! I painted you a bowl for Fadder's Day!"

5:03 Attempt a desperate cover-up to throw B off track, then go in the other room and force self to laugh, thinking that at least today was blogworthy.

I am happy to report that B LOVED his Father's Day gifts, and I'll post about them soon. Luckily, he's a pretty phenomenal dad, and without a doubt, he's worth it. Even so, I'm starting to plan early for next year and Starbucks will be included on the agenda.

I'd like a latte with two shots of Ad*erall please.

I may have mentioned once or 2308 times that I love my job.

So as sad as it made me to have to leave G full time this week, I was actually okay with it, since I get so much enjoyment out of my job. Cheesy or not, I'm meant to be there.

I know G is in great hands, and it's good for him to be away from me, yada yada yada. I get to him by 4:30, I get plenty of days (and summers!) off, so I can deal. Most days.

But.

The one thing I was worried about was getting us all out the door on time.I am always late. L totally takes after me and is super pokey. Add in everything I have to remember, which is next to impossible for my ADD-brain, and I was fearful that I'd end up collapsing in a heap on the floor and calling in sick.

Honestly, if B wasn't home, I might have.

G is battling a bad cold and was up a lot of the night. So when B woke me at 6 this morning to tell me I had an hour before I needed to leave, I jumped out of bed.

And the next hour was pure madness.

Showering.

Feeding G.

Making L's lunch (due to food allergies, we have to supply his lunch).

Getting bottles of expressed breast milk ready for the diaper bag.

Checking to make sure I had everything else I needed in the diaper bag.

Changing G's pants because the navy and gray sweats in which B donned him SO did not match his camo onesie.

Looking for L's backpack, which I had put in the car the night before, you know, so I wouldn't forget.

Encouraging L to eat the scrambled eggs that B made for him, which he deemed "too spicy."

Arguing with B over the appropriateness of sending L to school without eating breakfast.

Packing up blueberries for L to eat in the car as a compromise.

Running back into the house for my nursing pads, G's bulb suctioner, and my coffee.

....and all the other obvious tasks like finding clothes that don't make me look fat, attempting to make my hair look halfway presentable, changing G's diaper, etc., etc., etc.

I know. I know. This is what all other moms do every morning. But I am a newbie. A sleep-deprived, attention-deficit newbie.

So when B called on my way to G's sitter and said, "That was a terrible first attempt. We have got to get better at that," I was a little offended, even though we did leave fifteen minutes late.

Considering I made it to work (relatively) on time even after stopping to get a Shaken Iced Black Tea from Starbucks, I think, madness and all, we did pretty darn good.

I'm off to find L's coat. Because he may or may not had to wear two jackets since I forgot his winter coat this morning.

And he may or may not have had the second jacket in his cubby because I forgot it at school on Monday afternoon.

Sometimes ADD pays off after all.

Squeezing in one more mom-fail in 2010

On Friday afternoon, I realized that I hadn't gotten Christmas outfits for the boys.

And we had our Christmas party with B's dad's family in two days.

B had a really bad cold. I knew he'd rather I dig his eyeballs out with spoons than ask him to come shop, at the mall, for clothes for the boys.

I figured I could do it. I could take both boys to the mall. After picking G up from the sitter's, I took a deep breath and mustered my courage. I had G in my pouch sling and L by the hand. We started in JCPenney and were unsuccessful in finding Christmas shirts, but L found a Lightning McQueen shirt that he had to have. I bribed rewarded him for good behavior by buying it for him.

You have to understand. I had worked all day. I was physically and emotionally tired, and I braved the mall, which I hate, alone. In Penney's, L announced that he had to poop, so we hit the bathroom. He insisted on getting on the toilet independently, which required him taking off his pants, and therefore his shoes. In a public bathroom. If I hadn't been wearing G, I might have fought him on it.

When we finally got into the mall, L loudly declared that he had to poop again, so I had to hurry him all the way down to the end of the wing.

There, he decided that the urge had passed. The relief not to deal with the shoes/pants issue was greater than my frustration at that point.

However. we ended up with adorable matching shirts for half off, so all the craziness was worth it. And therefore, L was, ahem, rewarded, with his new Lightning McQueen shirt (which was also on clearance, thankyouverymuch). I quickly checked the size on the hanger and away we went, shirt in hand.

He tried it on for B when we got home. B asked if it was pajamas and said something about it being small. As usual , I was distracted and blew him off, going about my merry way.

Today, L asked if he could wear his cool new shirt to school. Of course I let him. Thankfully, I put a hoodie over said shirt and he wore it all day at school. When B got home, he said, "You let him wear that to school??"

I finally took a moment to look at L.

Huh.

The shirt was quite snug.

And short.

The sleeves appeared to be of the three-quarter length variety.

L typically wears a 5T. I checked the tag, and burst out laughing.

"Is it a 4t?" B asked.

I kept laughing.

"A 3T???"

My cheeks began to hurt from giggling so hard.

I sent my kid to school, on Christmas party day, when several other kids were in their cute holiday outfits, in a 2T shirt...three sizes too small.

(Please excuse the pile of cardboard behind L...it's waiting to go into the now-full recycle bin)

The good news is that G is going to get an almost brand-new shirt soon. And L's teachers probably feel so much pity for him that he'll get some extra special attention.

I'll shoot for Mother of the Year in 2011. Something tells me I'm out of the running this year.

Just call me Distractagirl.

It's getting chilly in my neck of the woods. I don't love chilly weather. I do, however, love chilly-weather-clothes. Sweaters, hoodies, long-sleeved tees, Uggs...all things comfy and cozy make me happy.

Over the summer, I bought a soft hooded sweater and couldn't wait to wear it. I wore it around the house a little and put it away.

On Thursday night, I was thinking about what I'd wear to work the next day and remembered my sweater. I went to my sweater drawer to pull it out, and it wasn't in there. I swore I had put it in my sweater drawer.

We don't have a coat closet so I keep my jackets in L's room. I checked his closet...nothin'. I tore apart my car....nothin'. I checked G's closet...nothin'. I even checked downstairs in my summer clothes storage....nothin'. I went back over and over and over those places, thinking that it would miraculously appear where I'd already looked.

I started second guessing myself. Did I actually buy that sweater? Did I return it?

No, I remembered trying it on and wearing it at home for a little while. Then I got irritated. When my crabbiness had lasted hours, and I started tossing random items in our recycle bin, swearing complaining all the way, B finally took action.

Side note...I lose things a lot. Most people with ADD do. And B, Mr. Focus, can find things immediately. My brother is a detective, and my dad always (lovingly) says that if I was a detective, I'd just step over the dead body, distracted by something, saying, "What body?"

So it didn't surprise me when B opened another drawer in my dresser and pulled out the sweater.

Oh. I forgot that I had two sweater drawers.

Too bad Adderal and breastfeeding aren't compatib....hey, where'd I put my coffee?

I'm accepting this award, and...hey, look, something shiny!

I may have mentioned my ADD once or twice on here before. Or maybe a lot of times. Honest to goodness, I don't know how many times I've mentioned it because I..ahem...am terrible at remembering details. Go figure.

So when my bloggy BFF, Brittany, gave me an award almost a week ago, and I failed to repost it until now, I know it makes me look ungrateful. Considering her blogging skills are out of this world, it truly is an honor to be given an award from her. If you've never visited her blog, you need to...now. And sadly, I am sure there are other posts that I should have published, and forgotten to do so...awards and otherwise.

I am really going to consider ADD meds after I give birth.

If I remember to talk to the doctor about it.

Until then, you'll have to put up with forgetful ole me.

But the good news is that I always remember things eventually. Well, usually.

Sometimes.

And today is one of those times!

The rules about this award are that I have to list seven things about myself. Coming up with seven things that I haven't discussed on here already might be harder than remembering to repost the award. But I'll give it a try.

1. I agonize over buying people gifts, even though I absolutely love to do so. I love theme gifts, and I always want to make them perfect. I was pleased with L's teachers' end-of-the-year gifts this year. My supervisor at work gave me the suggestion, and they turned out super cute. I gave them cheapo Target beach bags with a really cute beach towel, sunscreen, a plastic cup that I personalized with their initial, and lemonade (and a Starbucks gift card for his lead teacher). Considering I had to buy five of them, I needed something cheap but fun. They were a hit, and whenever that happens, it makes the agonizing worth it.

2. I love the way that L smells when I pick him up from school. I can't describe it, but it's delicious. Just when I thought he couldn't smell any better after school, his teachers started applying sunscreen before they go out to recess. And let me tell you, that smell is drool-worthy.

3. I love, love, love to nap. However, I have to have brainless tv to listen to while I fall asleep or my mind wanders. My personal favorite is The Daily 10, a celebrity news show on E! At night, however, I fall asleep within seconds of my head hitting the pillow. I don't know many people who not only love, but need sleep like I do. This makes being mommy of a newborn extra difficult for me.

4. I am one of "those people" who yells at someone who is about to step on a spider, scoops up the eight-legged friend, and safely releases him outside. My friends at work tease me mercilessly about it. Apparently, the other day, one of the classes was painting with (real live) worms but the teacher made sure to seek me out to tell me the paint was non-toxic and they would release the worms safely afterwards. And yes, if they didn't, it would have bothered me.

5. Those little wooden spoons that come with ice cream give me the heebie-jeebies. So do tongue depressors. I forbid doctors to even have one in their hand when they examine my throat. I don't particularly like wooden sticks that ice cream treats are on, but I'll tolerate it to get to ice cream.

6. You know how they say that you never forget to ride a bike? I did. I rode my bike all.the.time. as a kid. When I tried to ride one in my early twenties, I straight-up couldn't do it. I am talking falling off...literally, I had forgotten how. Since then, B and I have gotten mountain bikes and I have made a bit of progress on my bike-riding skills. However, I admit that it's minimal at best.

7. My favorite job I ever had (besides my current job) was working at Bath and Body Works. I love sales, even retail. When I held that job, I rocked out every contest and was always frustrated that I made no commission. If I did, I'd probably still be working there on the weekends. I still say that as soon as my kids are old enough to not want to hang out with me in the summer, I'll try to get a job there again.

I am passing the Versatile Blogger Award onto:

1. Jillian at It All Began with a Man in a Black Jeep
2. Anna at Companion to the Wind
3. Jess at All American Jess
4, Katie at Cleared for Takeoff
5. Lucy Marie at Lucy's Life
6. Paige at Mommy & Charli
7. Janet at Stuff I Think About
8. Karen at A Peek at Karen's World
9. Lauren at The Wee One
10. Samantha at The Ruby Turtle Hippie Times

Namaste!

"I'm sorry...I wasn't paying attention to what I was thinking" -Shelley Curtiss

All weekend, I've been thinking that I cannot wait for Monday morning to get here so I can get back to work. As I type that, even I think it's weird. The only thing I am panicking about is handling my ADD.

It's no secret at my work that I am an impulsive, disorganized mess. People give me trouble about it constantly...they know I take no offense to it. I like to believe that it doesn't affect the way I do my job. Truth be told, it doesn't affect the way I provide speech and language therapies to my students. It does, however, affect the way I handle paperwork.

For the last few years, I have had an extremely small primary caseload, which means I have had a lack of paperwork, at least compared to other people. Now that I am back full-time, and not doing autism evaluations, I have a larger caseload, and the amount of paperwork I have will significantly increase. Deadlines are tough for me. Not losing stuff is hard for me. I can't tell you how many things I lost in the last two days while simply getting my classroom prepared.

I'm flat-out scared.

Right now, my classroom is beautifully organized. But as one of my coworkers joked the other day, "How long do you think it will stay that way?"

Sigh.

ADD sucks. I'd consider taking meds, but I want to get pregnant in the next six months or so, so that isn't really an option.

Luckily, I have found through online research (so it's gotta be totally accurate) that both spinning and yoga are really helpful for ADD.

Spinning is my favorite exercise. Ever. I've heard it described as "yoga on a bike," and I get that. The amount of mental energy that it takes to get through a class with the tough teachers that I like is indescribable. My mind feels clearest after a good spin class. I go, religiously, every Saturday, with the badass teacher I've talked about before. I'm going to try to make it a priority to add another class each week too.

I've sort of been slacking in the yoga department, but I found this on a yoga site today:

"When ADDers report challenges with impulsivity and hyperactivity, they often describe feeling like they don’t have control over their own bodies. They find themselves speaking before thinking their thoughts through, and often regret their words. They constantly fidget, unaware that their bubbling energy can be disruptive to others in work and social situations. And they feel as if they simply cannot stop the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in their heads. "

Um. Yeah. That'd be me.

The article went on to explain how slow, relaxing yoga promotes self-awareness and self-control.

Looks like I'll be adding a few sun salutations to my weekly routine.

Wish me luck....