Some days I’d like to scream at our daughter. She has ADD and getting her to do something she doesn’t want to do–like getting ready for school or cleaning her room–is like pulling teeth. Take this morning for example. The bus comes at ten after seven. She didn’t start getting ready until six-forty. I checked on her at ten till and she still hadn’t put her pants on.
“I can’t find any pants! You said there’d be some in the basket!”
She probably could find what she needed if the Absent Minded Professor would put things away; instead clothes (clean, dirty and questionable are strewn about her room.)
I saw the bus pull in at ten after seven. I told her to run for it and she lollygags down the street. The neighbors could hear me yell out the window, “Run for it!” I assume she made it on time because I don’t hear her crying on the front porch.
She hates having ADD. It can’t be easy with her mind pulled in a direction that teachers and other pesky authority figures don’t want her to go. She’s a square peg. A geometrical shape that can’t be explained by traditional geometry. She calls herself stupid. She’s not.
She has a big heart. She’s stubborn and tries to put it good use. (We told her early on it’s like a superpower that should be used for good instead of evil.)
I wish she could find her space. Somewhere she can put her ADD to good use. Someplace it will be a benefit and not embarrassment.