The A.D.D. mommmy

I've talked about having A.D.D before in the church setting. And there are so many other places and scenarios in which it can definitely be hard. Recently, I was asked how I handle having A.D.D. and being a parent and I have to say, in this case, A.D.D. can be your best friend.

 

 

When they're babies it's a lot harder to keep track of things like feeding and changing and burping (repeat). You have to really focus and concentrate, which can be hard for anyone when they're running on 2 hours of sleep. Of course, these days the world is just full of apps that help the parents remember those little details. When they get older ofcourse, there is no need for apps. The constant whining, crying and shouting "Mama.. I'm HUNGRY!" make it quite easy to remember to feed your kids.

 

Do I get distracted and hyperfocused on projects and things and sometimes forget to start dinner on time? Ofcourse I do! But mostly, I think A.D.D. is an invaluable resource to a parent with multiple children. It's what allows me to hold one crying kid, while pulling the other one's pants up and answering the other one's questions. It is what keeps my mind jumping from superhero to princess game, what allows me to potty train while giving a spelling test. Because, frankly, that's motherhood and I'm fairly certain that by the end of it, most moms have some form of A.D.D.

 

 Never being able to finish a thought or conversation on the phone without a kid tattling, or hanging on you or wiping their dirty hands all over you. Laundry souring in the washing machine because you've gotten distracted by all the legos that were dumped on the livingroom floor. Only a half-cleaned kitchen floor that was left when your favorite song came on the radio and you broke out into a spontanious dance party with your kids in your livingroom (no, that's just me? no matter). The point is, motherhood is a constant form of A.D.D. What mom hasn't spent a playdate half talking to their friends, half reffing an argument, or keeping your two-year-old from hitting other kids?

 

I see A.D.D. as a total advantage in motherhood. If you DON'T have it, you're in BIG trouble.

 



Going Gray

You dread it, you run from it, you live in denial about it. But sooner or later, they come for you. You know what I'm talking about: Gray Hair.


When I was in college, I used to have a few friends who started to go gray. I thought to myself that it must be a fluke, some sort of Steve Martin scenario. I knew it would be forever before I would have to face the gray. Then I had 3 kids in 3 years and after my last baby, they came for me. Yes, I said THEY. Because you see, the gray isn't just a single strand, a lone wolf. No, it travels in a pack of hungry wolves devouring all of your youth and taking no prisoners.

I first found out about it while I was shopping with a friend. She had recently colored my hair and while browsing the ladies department we casually talked about how some of our friends were starting to go gray. I "felt bad" for those poor girls and was so lucky I hadn't succumbed to that fate yet. She bashfully said, "Um, yes you have." What? No, I would know if I did. I'm positive I would. She then proceeded to tell me that she found a whole bunch of them in the back of my head but just colored them and didn't say anything. Can I just take the time to say something right now?

A true friend sees you have gray hair, but doesn't say anything about it.

Since that fateful day, I have been obsessive compulsive about my grays. It's something I notice so much everytime I look in the mirror. I know that I'm probably overreacting. I mean, it cannot possibly be the first thing people see. But then again, maybe it is? 

Maybe I could embrace it and make it a whole fad. I could pull of a Cruella Deville kind of scenario right? 

It's hard to swallow the fact that I have officially entered this strange and mysterious world. The world where your knees don't quite work like they used to, and suddenly the wrinkle cream aisle doesn't look half bad. Well I might be getting older, but that doesn't mean I'm old yet. I'm not going down without a fight. Maybe a trip to Paris, or a skydiving adventure? I don't know. But I'm embracing this new hair color. Because, let's face it, I've earned every one.

The things no one tells you: Oh the loneliness

I took a vacation for two weeks and left my husband in charge. When I came back, I asked him how things went. He told me he could handle the laundry, the dishes, the endless whining. He could handle all the dirty diapers and the time outs. He then said, "But I still could never do your job." I asked him why, and he said, "The solitude is unbearable."This was an interesting statement. Out of all the housework, it was the loneliness that made my job so undesireable.

Recently Tim got a promotion; something he's been working towards for several years now. I have been conflicted about my happiness for this promotion. Because, while it's been something he's been working so hard towards, it also means longer hours and less time I can randomly just talk to him during the day if I get lonely.

This is when that dark cloud creeps in. When I'm about 3/4's of the way through my day and everybody's whining, or worse when they're all asleep and I have nothing to do and no one to talk to. Some days, I would give my right ARM to know that my mom lived down the street from me. Not so that I could utilize her babysitting skills (though that would be nice too) but mostly so I could walk down the street and chat with her; ask her how her day is, hear about her job. SOMETHING, anything really to take my mind off of the fact that I have to work a 12 hour day without any adult interaction.

I really do absolutely love my job. I really really do. It's just when you spend the majority of your day refereeing arguments, cleaning rooms you could swear you just cleaned 20 minutes ago and answering endless preschool questions over and over again you tend to long for adult interaction. This is the part I wish someone would have told me about.

The Things No One Tells You: On Sick Leave

So my friend, and fellow blogger, Bethany mentioned to me last week that she was putting together a collection of mommy bloggers out there to talk about mothering insights, etc. It got me thinking, and I decided to start a blog series entitled: The Things No One Tells You. Because I feel like, especially as a mom, there are just so many things you walk into blindly. After I had my first child, I wondered how I managed to get so much advice about some things, but then there were so many that no one ever told me about. I intend on addressing some of those things, and hopefully shed some light on dark topics.

Whenever you start a new job, they always have an employee manual that tells you how much vacation time, personal days and sick leave you have. That is not the case for motherhood. And do you know why? Because...there isn't any. It's true there are a lot of company perks to being a mom, countless actually and the perks far outweigh the negatives. But when you're a mom, especially a stay-at-home mom, there just aren't any days you're actually allowed to be sick.

Today I woke up with my kids, a typical Monday morning. They were hungry, needed diaper changes and the list of demands started. The only problem was, I was up all night throwing up. Still unable to keep food down, I had to take care of them while the husband went to work. It sucks. Because you are at home every day, and because your kids get used to giving you their morning demands, it makes no sense to them why you've suddenly baracaded the bathroom door and are making strange noises in there. They pound on the door, and cry and then push each other over because they're each fighting to get into the bathroom. Ofcourse then an argument and full-blown wrestling match starts and you're attempting to referree from the inside of a toilet. Or better still, it's quiet...too quiet. And when you finally gain enough energy to walk out of the bathroom, you only discover the toilet paper all over the floor, the garbage strewn all over the house, your favorite lipstick on the walls and a very guilty looking two year old standing there grinning. Right, just what you needed. But you continue on, because you have to. It's all part of the job.

Also weekends can be very confusing as well. It's Saturday morning...ahhhhh.... what a wonderful thing right? Well, not really for you. Because you see, it's the weekend for your husband, not for you. You still have to get up with the kids like every other day and do the routine. It's not to say that your husbands a bad guy, it's just that your kids are used to waking YOU up each morning, so they do. And suddenly Saturday morning turns into every other morning. Shoot it could be a Tuesday for all you know.

This is the thing no one ever told me. I never realized that when I had children I would be sacrificing my ability to vomit in peace, or to sleep past 7am. I wish I had known that, so that I could at least have been more prepared for it. I know that one day I will spend my sicktime alone, with no one there to scream at me. Ofcourse, there will also be no sweet voice asking "Are you okay mama?" and there will be no gentle 3-year-old to sit on my lap and tell me "It's okay mama, I take care of you." These are the sweet things nobody tells you that being sick brings.

One day I will sleep in all day, maybe have a nice brunch, go for a walk in the park, enjoy a leisurely weekend. But there will be no exuberant 2-year-old who bursts through the door and says, "Mo-nin' Mama!" or "Mama, you up? I so happy!". These are the things about weekends nobody tells you about.

It's those tender moments, those tiny voices that keep you going when the lack of vacation and sickdays take their toll.