I, too, can get overwhelmed taking care of everyone else.
As mothers of these extraordinary sons and daughters with AD/HD we take on a demanding role– and, as I’ve written, and as many of you have commented, these young people just require more. More nurturing, more thought, coordination, patience and emotion.
Now add to this equation: Caring for ill parents (who may be living far away, requiring many plane trips back and forth), running small businesses, helping husbands with their strategy documents, handling major family issues that can span months, doing projects for special charities and interviews for our alma maters, helping friends who have suffered the loss of mothers or brothers. What time is left for us?
We deny ourselves, and as we do that, we subtly move further and further down the priority list: We don’t have the time to read more than the front page of our morning newspapers, or to sit and enjoy muffins – while the coffee is still hot, or sleep seven hours at night, without waking at 2:00 a.m. and chiding ourselves for everything we didn’t get done the past day.
We do significantly more parenting: Is it 25% more or 50% more? Then we are questioned more intensely and criticized more adamantly. On top of that we handle the usual family cares that other mothers handle. We say to ourselves, let me just finish the emails, do the research, make the doctor and vet appointments, pay the bills, get the faucet fixed, prescriptions ordered, taxes done and the invitations addressed. Then it’s time to call our mothers, and return belated calls to our friends, college roommates whose daughters are getting married, business associates who are trying to reconnect, and work on our languishing Facebook pages. (I couldn’t help but notice that as I’m writing this, I’ve been interrupted ten times.)
At the end of the day, there is no time left for ourselves, and we think, if only, we were more organized, if only things didn’t take as long, if only we had more time and less complexity in our lives. It is that persistent, critical, inner voice.
So, I must apologize for the silence and for not getting “pen-to-paper” or, rather, for not getting entries uploaded to my blog instead of having them sit almost-finished and dormant as Word files in my computer. Your comments and thoughts inspired me to keep writing. Thank you, Tammie, for asking if everything was all right. Thank you, Zoe, for saying I’ve reminded you to see the beauty of your child, and Michelle for saying this blog really matters.
So what better time to celebrate us than Mother’s Day?
I’ve thought about this a great deal: We provide the continuity, the energy, the definition, the structure not only for our children’s lives but also for our families’ lives. We are like the invisible force of gravity that keeps the stars aligned and circling in our personal family galaxies. Without us, the center would not hold and everyone and everything would scatter. Because of us, everything stays together, but our efforts, like gravity, are invisible. Surprise: If we do it right, no one notices.
But who in our immediate circle of family and friends actually recognizes the crucial and complex role we play? To tell you the truth, I don’t think they will ever be able to understand the enormous, instinctive and unrelenting sense of responsibility we feel. That sense of responsibility creates a high water mark in our lives; that is where our work begins and everything else is layered on top of it.
Although we can’t change the circumstances, I have four ideas that can help us: Be confident in knowing what you are accomplishing with your children. Start establishing some space for yourself and do something you love to do, as in my case, writing. Persevere in standing up for yourself. Don’t expect the others in our lives to truly understand. They cannot because their experience is very different from ours. Instead, seek out the understanding, the acknowledgement from other mothers who live this day-by-day. Where are these mothers? They may be our friends who also have children with AD/HD; they are the mothers in CHADD’s local support groups; or, mothers commenting here, as amherron who said, “we can share the laughter and tears that parenting these wonderful brilliant and oh-so-challenging children bring to our lives.”
And we can celebrate Mother’s Day knowing that there are many others out there who truly understand.
Happy Mother’s Day!
Best,
Nadine
Showing posts with label AD/HD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label AD/HD. Show all posts
Friday, April 29, 2011
Friday, March 26, 2010
"Seen and Not Heard"
Have you ever heard the saying “Children should be seen and not heard” when you were growing up? I did. Being the only child of the entire family (I didn’t even have cousins), it was daunting to hear this comment from some conservative European relatives. My observations and opinions were not taken seriously — simply because of my youth.
The reason I bring this up is that our society seems to have this attitude towards children with ADHD: They should be seen and not heard.
Children with ADHD shouldn’t upset the natural order of things in the household, in school or in grocery stores, parks, malls or museums.
They shouldn’t ask too many probing questions about gravity or chemical reactions. This is considered annoying. Instead, they should be satisfied hearing the standard pat answers. As Blake was once told by a teacher, “That’s all you need to know right now.”
They shouldn’t point out the inconsistencies in a parent’s logic. This is considered being disrespectful. “Why are you telling me not to drive with one hand on the wheel when you do it?” my daughter Madison will say to my husband. “That’s different; I’m the adult,” my husband will respond, irritated. “I didn’t question my mother when she told me something.” Maybe they just want to understand the rationale behind a particular rule, not necessarily counter the rule.
They shouldn’t point out an error in a teacher’s lecture. Teachers oftentimes will figure that the student is trying to embarrass them or act like a wise guy. Blake’s science teacher didn’t like being told that Jupiter had more than four moons. Blake had just been at the planetarium and was volunteering this information, but the teacher got offended. Maybe the student is actually thinking about the content of the lecture or has some new information to tell the class.
They shouldn’t be restless when they have that very physical need to move. “Why can’t you sit still? Why are you tapping your pencil?” Madison’s biology teacher will tell her. They should be like all the others sitting quietly.
They shouldn’t defend themselves when they are wrongly accused of doing something because they are considered argumentative. Madison was helping organize a classmate who was late to French class, but the teacher thought she was just chatting socially. “But I wasn’t chatting, I was helping her,” Madison protested. “C’est tout! Je ne peux pas enseigner en haut de tes voix fortes! Jennifer et Madison, sortez-vous la class!” the teacher said as she banished Madison and her friend from class.
They shouldn’t act up because they are bored. They should just grin and bear it.
Children with ADHD shouldn’t ruffle people’s feathers. “Why is Aunt Hilda being mean to grandma and saying it with a smile?” Blake asked. These children have the courage and honesty to say what everyone else is thinking and not saying—and then are faulted for saying it. They see when people are being hurtful or dishonest, and they call them on it.
I think many people do not understand their depth — of intelligence, of emotion, of perception, of passion.
Children with ADHD are expected to just fit in and not be different. (Notice that being different has a negative connotation.) In 6th grade, Blake wanted to talk about cloud formations, hurricanes, tornadoes, and the Martian space probes with his friends, but his friends wanted to talk about Spider Man and The Hulk. In middle school, Madison was very much a tomboy and loved biology, emergency vet, riding her Razor scooter down the hill and soccer. She wasn’t yet interested in lipstick shades or flirting with boys like many of the other girls. Children with ADHD have many interests and shouldn’t be faulted for it. We should encourage their curiosity.
The irony is: Aren’t the innovators, the individualists, exactly what we need more of? Should we be dampening this spirit in these children, making them fit into some kind of arbitrary mold? As Dr. Stephen Hinshaw of UC Berkeley said in a presentation for CHADD’s ADHD Awareness Day last September at Berkeley, “If ADHD were so bad, it would have been naturally selected out of the population generations ago. Obviously, many of its traits were prized by earlier societies.”
Not only do we need to see these children with ADHD but also hear them — and maybe even listen to what they are saying. We may learn a lot.
Best,
Nadine
The reason I bring this up is that our society seems to have this attitude towards children with ADHD: They should be seen and not heard.
Children with ADHD shouldn’t upset the natural order of things in the household, in school or in grocery stores, parks, malls or museums.
They shouldn’t ask too many probing questions about gravity or chemical reactions. This is considered annoying. Instead, they should be satisfied hearing the standard pat answers. As Blake was once told by a teacher, “That’s all you need to know right now.”
They shouldn’t point out the inconsistencies in a parent’s logic. This is considered being disrespectful. “Why are you telling me not to drive with one hand on the wheel when you do it?” my daughter Madison will say to my husband. “That’s different; I’m the adult,” my husband will respond, irritated. “I didn’t question my mother when she told me something.” Maybe they just want to understand the rationale behind a particular rule, not necessarily counter the rule.
They shouldn’t point out an error in a teacher’s lecture. Teachers oftentimes will figure that the student is trying to embarrass them or act like a wise guy. Blake’s science teacher didn’t like being told that Jupiter had more than four moons. Blake had just been at the planetarium and was volunteering this information, but the teacher got offended. Maybe the student is actually thinking about the content of the lecture or has some new information to tell the class.
They shouldn’t be restless when they have that very physical need to move. “Why can’t you sit still? Why are you tapping your pencil?” Madison’s biology teacher will tell her. They should be like all the others sitting quietly.
They shouldn’t defend themselves when they are wrongly accused of doing something because they are considered argumentative. Madison was helping organize a classmate who was late to French class, but the teacher thought she was just chatting socially. “But I wasn’t chatting, I was helping her,” Madison protested. “C’est tout! Je ne peux pas enseigner en haut de tes voix fortes! Jennifer et Madison, sortez-vous la class!” the teacher said as she banished Madison and her friend from class.
They shouldn’t act up because they are bored. They should just grin and bear it.
Children with ADHD shouldn’t ruffle people’s feathers. “Why is Aunt Hilda being mean to grandma and saying it with a smile?” Blake asked. These children have the courage and honesty to say what everyone else is thinking and not saying—and then are faulted for saying it. They see when people are being hurtful or dishonest, and they call them on it.
I think many people do not understand their depth — of intelligence, of emotion, of perception, of passion.
Children with ADHD are expected to just fit in and not be different. (Notice that being different has a negative connotation.) In 6th grade, Blake wanted to talk about cloud formations, hurricanes, tornadoes, and the Martian space probes with his friends, but his friends wanted to talk about Spider Man and The Hulk. In middle school, Madison was very much a tomboy and loved biology, emergency vet, riding her Razor scooter down the hill and soccer. She wasn’t yet interested in lipstick shades or flirting with boys like many of the other girls. Children with ADHD have many interests and shouldn’t be faulted for it. We should encourage their curiosity.
The irony is: Aren’t the innovators, the individualists, exactly what we need more of? Should we be dampening this spirit in these children, making them fit into some kind of arbitrary mold? As Dr. Stephen Hinshaw of UC Berkeley said in a presentation for CHADD’s ADHD Awareness Day last September at Berkeley, “If ADHD were so bad, it would have been naturally selected out of the population generations ago. Obviously, many of its traits were prized by earlier societies.”
Not only do we need to see these children with ADHD but also hear them — and maybe even listen to what they are saying. We may learn a lot.
Best,
Nadine
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Legos & iTunes
A Lego Space Shuttle, Legend the Beanie Baby Dragon, the “Age of Empires” computer game, an Orca whale stuffed animal, a Ferrari sports car model, an Abercrombie and Fitch camisole, iTunes songs, the Twilight DVD, an iPod, J. Crew corduroy slacks, and ribbon-tied, shortbread cookies from The Cakery bakery in downtown Burlingame, California. What do all these things have in common? Hint: This is not a holiday shopping list, as you may have guessed. All the items on this list were rewards either for my son Blake or my daughter Madison, as they were growing up. That’s right, rewards that acknowledged and celebrated their many efforts and accomplishments at home, in school, with relatives and friends, in community service, in extracurricular activities, and in sports, These were acknowledgements for doing something good -- big or small -- for something of which they were proud, at all the different stages of their childhood and teenage years.
In 5th grade, Madison completed her Harry Potter book report and created a mobile using a wizard hat as a centerpiece from which handcrafted figures from the Sorcerer’s Stone dangled. She wrote about the plot, theme and characters on construction paper squares that also dangled from the hat. She was creative and thoughtful. As a reward, I told her we would go and pick out another Beanie Baby for her collection that included iguanas, antelopes, bears, dogs and dinosaurs. Yet another colorful furry creature that would perch above her bed.
Blake practiced each day for a half hour on the piano learning one of Clementi’s Sonatinas leading up to the winter piano recital at the church. It was a complex and technically difficult piece to learn, requiring much patience. In addition, he had to wear a navy blazer and grey wool slacks to the recital and he had to take a bow in front of the audience. Our family celebrated later by going to the Cheese Cake Factory for dinner and I got him the computer game “Empire Earth” that he always wanted.
To tell you the truth, it doesn’t matter what the particular reward is. It does matter greatly that you decide to give it to your child and that the reward is something they love and want. It says simply: “I love you and I am proud of you. What you do is important to me” – all powerful words for a child with ADHD.
What are some of the other things that I rewarded? Blake organized his closet, sat politely through a long dinner party with relatives, finished the research and writing for his 8th grade English Share Project. We picked out a red model Ferrari that joined his silver Lamborghini and blue Porsche on his bookshelf.
In 9th grade, Madison organized a group of girls to help with community service work for our local greyhound rescue group. We did gift-wrapping with the greyhounds at Borders Book Store where we brought a group of former racing greyhounds into the bookstore, as part of an adoption event during the holiday season. The girls gift-wrapped books as the members of the rescue group talked to Border’s customers about greyhounds as pets and the urgent need for adoption. All tips and donations went to the rescue group, and I had Madison pick out “The Notebook” DVD she always wanted.
We all need rewards, recognition for our accomplishments, but I notice that children with ADHD need this symbolic recognition more frequently. They need something to strive for. Something to keep them going when it is hard to focus for hours on that biology or chemistry homework, studying for the SAT exam, doing the water polo drills and laps, or preparing for a part-time job interview.
Other people may chide me and say, the accomplishment itself is enough of a reward. But I politely disagree. True, an accomplishment stands on its own merit, but it seems as if our adult lives are all about results and returns on investments. What if our children’s results are not so stellar? What if your child tried really hard to do something and met with modest success – didn’t do well on a test, didn’t get selected as a starter for the team? As parents, can we take this one time in their lives and recognize their effort? Think of what that says to your child. It says I know how hard it was for you to do that, and I reward your effort – regardless of the results. That acknowledgement is crucial. Besides, there is plenty of time in the years ahead for the world to exert its influence.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Best,
Nadine
P.S. Blake still wants those shortbread cookies even though he is in college.
Read more about ADHD on the CHADD website www.chadd.org and learn more about a young person’s experience growing up with ADHD on Blake’s website www.youngwithadhd.com
In 5th grade, Madison completed her Harry Potter book report and created a mobile using a wizard hat as a centerpiece from which handcrafted figures from the Sorcerer’s Stone dangled. She wrote about the plot, theme and characters on construction paper squares that also dangled from the hat. She was creative and thoughtful. As a reward, I told her we would go and pick out another Beanie Baby for her collection that included iguanas, antelopes, bears, dogs and dinosaurs. Yet another colorful furry creature that would perch above her bed.
Blake practiced each day for a half hour on the piano learning one of Clementi’s Sonatinas leading up to the winter piano recital at the church. It was a complex and technically difficult piece to learn, requiring much patience. In addition, he had to wear a navy blazer and grey wool slacks to the recital and he had to take a bow in front of the audience. Our family celebrated later by going to the Cheese Cake Factory for dinner and I got him the computer game “Empire Earth” that he always wanted.
To tell you the truth, it doesn’t matter what the particular reward is. It does matter greatly that you decide to give it to your child and that the reward is something they love and want. It says simply: “I love you and I am proud of you. What you do is important to me” – all powerful words for a child with ADHD.
What are some of the other things that I rewarded? Blake organized his closet, sat politely through a long dinner party with relatives, finished the research and writing for his 8th grade English Share Project. We picked out a red model Ferrari that joined his silver Lamborghini and blue Porsche on his bookshelf.
In 9th grade, Madison organized a group of girls to help with community service work for our local greyhound rescue group. We did gift-wrapping with the greyhounds at Borders Book Store where we brought a group of former racing greyhounds into the bookstore, as part of an adoption event during the holiday season. The girls gift-wrapped books as the members of the rescue group talked to Border’s customers about greyhounds as pets and the urgent need for adoption. All tips and donations went to the rescue group, and I had Madison pick out “The Notebook” DVD she always wanted.
We all need rewards, recognition for our accomplishments, but I notice that children with ADHD need this symbolic recognition more frequently. They need something to strive for. Something to keep them going when it is hard to focus for hours on that biology or chemistry homework, studying for the SAT exam, doing the water polo drills and laps, or preparing for a part-time job interview.
Other people may chide me and say, the accomplishment itself is enough of a reward. But I politely disagree. True, an accomplishment stands on its own merit, but it seems as if our adult lives are all about results and returns on investments. What if our children’s results are not so stellar? What if your child tried really hard to do something and met with modest success – didn’t do well on a test, didn’t get selected as a starter for the team? As parents, can we take this one time in their lives and recognize their effort? Think of what that says to your child. It says I know how hard it was for you to do that, and I reward your effort – regardless of the results. That acknowledgement is crucial. Besides, there is plenty of time in the years ahead for the world to exert its influence.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Best,
Nadine
P.S. Blake still wants those shortbread cookies even though he is in college.
Read more about ADHD on the CHADD website www.chadd.org and learn more about a young person’s experience growing up with ADHD on Blake’s website www.youngwithadhd.com
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Hothouse Flowers
Children with ADHD are like hothouse flowers, and more than anything, they need someone who will protect and incubate them and shield them from the frost. They need someone who is not going to be judgmental – but understanding. Someone who can help “translate” the rest of the world to them and teach them day by day how to live in it.
You, as the parent, are that person. You can allow them to grow where they don’t have to be perfect, where they can make mistakes, where they don’t have to be like everyone else. The rest of the word is already so harsh, so unforgiving to their extraordinary sensibilities. You are going to give them the gift of time and nourishment – and the gift of unconditional love.
We’ve had our share of panics in our household. When Blake and Madison were younger, there were nights when I had to help them finish a math portfolio, due the next day, and mornings when I had to suddenly rifle through my clothes closet and old Halloween costumes to find an outfit for them to wear for a history report to be given that day. Blake once had to appear as Galileo and Madison, years later, as Caesar Augustus. Both had informed me only a short time before we had to leave for school that they had to deliver their report in historic costume. Talk about trying to be creative.
The panics don’t stop as they get older, either. En route to a major book signing and presentation in northern California for his book ADHD & Me, Blake lost his speech. Meanwhile, I was driving back to the San Francisco Bay Area with Madison and her close friend Margaret from a High School Band Festival in southern California when Blake called. “Please, you have to help me reconstruct my speech,” he pleaded. “Blake, I’m driving 75 miles an hour on Interstate 5,” I answered. But we brainstormed and recreated his talking points in time for him to deliver the speech.
At the time, you will feel like ranting and raving, but you shouldn’t. Remember two things:
1) Your son or daughter will not hear your lecture, because he or she is in panic mode because of not fully understanding an assignment or having lost something.
2) Lecturing is not going to solve the immediate problem.
Your best bet is to deal with the situation at hand, show them how to problem-solve, and be as effective as possible. At a later date, go through the scenario with your child and talk about what could have been done differently. How they could have planned better. Organized their things ahead of time, etc.
I have gotten a fair amount of criticism for my particular philosophy. People say, “Let them fail. Let them experience the consequences so they will learn. Don’t save them. Don’t be a safety net. They will depend too much on you. You will not always be there.”
But I am holding firm to my philosophy. Prepare them to face the outside world, while protecting them from it. Give them exposure to the world, while giving them the ability to adjust to it. I believe that children with ADHD have more than their share of criticism. I believe that it is my job as their parent to lighten the load and show them how to do things, how to navigate problems – without all the negative feedback. I don’t need to join the chorus that is already out there.
I believe – and have seen – that once they have that solid foundation, they grow and learn and take on more responsibilities. They will flourish and make choices. Things will backfire, but you will coach them through it, and next time they will know better. You can even laugh about it afterwards.
The night before he was to move into the TKE fraternity, last year, Blake said that he, ugh, forgot to mention that he needed a bed, desk, lamp and chair. “Blake, you didn’t know this before?” I was exasperated, but we ran off to IKEA the next day in Berkeley, bought what he needed and carted it back to his fraternity with the bed frames hanging out of the back of my packed SUV. Last December, Madison forgot. She forgot to tell me that she needed a particular double-barreled nerf gun and a pair of moccasins to contribute to a holiday party at school the next morning. “Where on earth do I find those things?” I asked. Soon, it was off to Toys"R"Us and Target. What can you do? They are young, and they have ADHD, and they are learning.
Oh, I forgot to mention: I used a peter pan collared blouse and a French beret for Galileo, and a gold wreath, sheet and palm frond for Caesar Augustus.
Read more about ADHD on the CHADD website and learn more about a young person’s experience growing up with ADHD on Blake’s website.
Nadine
You, as the parent, are that person. You can allow them to grow where they don’t have to be perfect, where they can make mistakes, where they don’t have to be like everyone else. The rest of the word is already so harsh, so unforgiving to their extraordinary sensibilities. You are going to give them the gift of time and nourishment – and the gift of unconditional love.
We’ve had our share of panics in our household. When Blake and Madison were younger, there were nights when I had to help them finish a math portfolio, due the next day, and mornings when I had to suddenly rifle through my clothes closet and old Halloween costumes to find an outfit for them to wear for a history report to be given that day. Blake once had to appear as Galileo and Madison, years later, as Caesar Augustus. Both had informed me only a short time before we had to leave for school that they had to deliver their report in historic costume. Talk about trying to be creative.
The panics don’t stop as they get older, either. En route to a major book signing and presentation in northern California for his book ADHD & Me, Blake lost his speech. Meanwhile, I was driving back to the San Francisco Bay Area with Madison and her close friend Margaret from a High School Band Festival in southern California when Blake called. “Please, you have to help me reconstruct my speech,” he pleaded. “Blake, I’m driving 75 miles an hour on Interstate 5,” I answered. But we brainstormed and recreated his talking points in time for him to deliver the speech.
At the time, you will feel like ranting and raving, but you shouldn’t. Remember two things:
1) Your son or daughter will not hear your lecture, because he or she is in panic mode because of not fully understanding an assignment or having lost something.
2) Lecturing is not going to solve the immediate problem.
Your best bet is to deal with the situation at hand, show them how to problem-solve, and be as effective as possible. At a later date, go through the scenario with your child and talk about what could have been done differently. How they could have planned better. Organized their things ahead of time, etc.
I have gotten a fair amount of criticism for my particular philosophy. People say, “Let them fail. Let them experience the consequences so they will learn. Don’t save them. Don’t be a safety net. They will depend too much on you. You will not always be there.”
But I am holding firm to my philosophy. Prepare them to face the outside world, while protecting them from it. Give them exposure to the world, while giving them the ability to adjust to it. I believe that children with ADHD have more than their share of criticism. I believe that it is my job as their parent to lighten the load and show them how to do things, how to navigate problems – without all the negative feedback. I don’t need to join the chorus that is already out there.
I believe – and have seen – that once they have that solid foundation, they grow and learn and take on more responsibilities. They will flourish and make choices. Things will backfire, but you will coach them through it, and next time they will know better. You can even laugh about it afterwards.
The night before he was to move into the TKE fraternity, last year, Blake said that he, ugh, forgot to mention that he needed a bed, desk, lamp and chair. “Blake, you didn’t know this before?” I was exasperated, but we ran off to IKEA the next day in Berkeley, bought what he needed and carted it back to his fraternity with the bed frames hanging out of the back of my packed SUV. Last December, Madison forgot. She forgot to tell me that she needed a particular double-barreled nerf gun and a pair of moccasins to contribute to a holiday party at school the next morning. “Where on earth do I find those things?” I asked. Soon, it was off to Toys"R"Us and Target. What can you do? They are young, and they have ADHD, and they are learning.
Oh, I forgot to mention: I used a peter pan collared blouse and a French beret for Galileo, and a gold wreath, sheet and palm frond for Caesar Augustus.
Read more about ADHD on the CHADD website and learn more about a young person’s experience growing up with ADHD on Blake’s website.
Nadine
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Back-to-School Migration
Since we are all in the midst of the annual back-to-school migration, not unlike the mass migration of thousands of gazelle across the African Serengeti Plains, I thought I would share my top three ideas to help maintain sanity in spite of the confusion -- and ask you for your ideas.
My first idea: Celebrate the new school year.
My son Blake and daughter Madison love our shopping trips to prepare for school. We comb the aisles in Staples and Office Depot for Madison’s spiral notebooks featuring photos of different breeds of dogs and soft-sided three-ring binders in fuchsia, green, and royal blue. She picks out a different color for each subject and later fills the binders with paper and dividers and decorates with stickers. Then off to the clothing stores for school clothing: laced-bordered tops and tee shirts that can be layered over jeans and empire dresses with flounces.
Blake has always liked mechanical pencils for math and science, magic markers, pens with thick grips, and highlighters in multiple colors. He also likes erasable pens -- all of these items help those with ADHD. Now that he is in college, we also shop for his studio apartment – everything from dishes to towels, and vases with dried flowers to framed cityscape photographs.
Next come finding backpacks with lots of pockets that we can allocate for pens, wallets, cell phones, calculators, notebooks, laptop computers, Balance Bars, and umbrellas. The fresh supplies, the colors, the thrill of shopping and a lunch, all make for a celebration, recognizing this special annual event in their lives.
My second idea: Have a staging area in your home for all their school work and school items. (This applied to Blake when he was living at home.)
In our case, it has always been the kitchen. As I mentioned last month, we always had “Homework Club” after school. So in the interests of organization, I thought I would devote a section of the kitchen for their work and for everything related to school. A table with shelves under the window holds laptops, homework and projects “in process.” A bulletin board holds school notices, announcements and permission slips.
I have book shelves -– one for Blake (the higher one because he is taller) and one for Madison so they can easily store and swap books as they are working, and grab books as they run out the door. A dictionary, reference books, school directories, and parent lists are good to keep here, too.
A drawer (or box) with hanging files is a blessing. We make a file for each subject, and as they need to file class notes or materials, they can pull the papers out of their binders and quickly pop them into the hanging files. In this manner, we keep down the paper clutter in their backpacks and preserve the class notes from getting mashed with bananas at the bottom of a backpack.
Keep a drawer (or box) with stationery supplies -– notebooks, paper, colored paper, erasers, pens, pencils, poster board -- immediately available so you don’t have to run out and buy glue at 11:00 p.m. the night before a project is due.
I also posted a checklist for Blake (when he was younger) and Madison that they can look at before leaving the house: Do you have lunch money, cell phone, books for the day, sweater, homework and projects?
Backpacks sit against the wall in an alcove, ready to go out the door in the morning, as we rushed to the train station or to the carpool.
Having a staging area helps “corral” all the school items, but it isn’t a guarantee. One time, my husband Ben (who does not have ADHD) decided to put the homework away, despite my asking him not to touch the homework. He succeeded in putting Madison’s homework into Blake’s backpack and Blake’s math project into Madison’s backpack. Blake left for high school thinking I had placed his project in his pack. I received a panic call from him when he arrived in San Francisco, saying that not only was his project missing but it was due that day. “Why is Madison’s homework in my backpack?” he asked. I made Ben leave work and drive Blake’s project up to the city. Needless to say, Ben decided to leave the homework alone after that.
My last idea: Be proactive with the school and establish a connection.
One of the first things you will want to do is set up a meeting with your son or daughter’s elementary, middle or high school teachers. “I don’t want you to have to guess,” I told them as I described Blake and Madison’s ADHD, the treatment, the medication, the routines, advice from our doctor, the IEPs, and the accommodations. Sometimes, even a simple accommodation can make a big difference. For example, when Blake was in 4th grade, just allowing him to get up from his seat and stand in the back of the classroom or leave the room for a drink of water, helped him refocus. I also warned them about Madison’s tendency to talk, and we agreed to place her in the front of the classroom.
You’ll find that teachers don’t necessarily know nor have access to the school files and they will appreciate your openness and honesty. You will also want to tell teachers how you will work with them, that you want them to call or email you if there is a problem. (Of course, you will get the calls and emails.) You want to make things consistent between home and school, and you want your child to know that you and the teachers are working together. This is always good for a child with ADHD.
This meeting is also an opportunity to talk to the teachers about your son or daughter’s strengths, their interest in space probes or Roman history or piano or swimming. The teacher will get a better picture of who your children are as individuals and may subsequently have more patience and understanding.
One of Blake’s 10th grade teachers, who is a very stern Russian lady, listened to me skeptically at first. Then she saw his talents. She was patient with his antics and even used her sense of humor to defuse situations. Finally, she admitted to me, at the end of the school year, that she really appreciated the fact that I had talked to her at the beginning of the year. “You gave me facts,” she said, “and set the tone.”
You have my three ideas, now, let’s hear yours…
Best,
Nadine
My first idea: Celebrate the new school year.
My son Blake and daughter Madison love our shopping trips to prepare for school. We comb the aisles in Staples and Office Depot for Madison’s spiral notebooks featuring photos of different breeds of dogs and soft-sided three-ring binders in fuchsia, green, and royal blue. She picks out a different color for each subject and later fills the binders with paper and dividers and decorates with stickers. Then off to the clothing stores for school clothing: laced-bordered tops and tee shirts that can be layered over jeans and empire dresses with flounces.
Blake has always liked mechanical pencils for math and science, magic markers, pens with thick grips, and highlighters in multiple colors. He also likes erasable pens -- all of these items help those with ADHD. Now that he is in college, we also shop for his studio apartment – everything from dishes to towels, and vases with dried flowers to framed cityscape photographs.
Next come finding backpacks with lots of pockets that we can allocate for pens, wallets, cell phones, calculators, notebooks, laptop computers, Balance Bars, and umbrellas. The fresh supplies, the colors, the thrill of shopping and a lunch, all make for a celebration, recognizing this special annual event in their lives.
My second idea: Have a staging area in your home for all their school work and school items. (This applied to Blake when he was living at home.)
In our case, it has always been the kitchen. As I mentioned last month, we always had “Homework Club” after school. So in the interests of organization, I thought I would devote a section of the kitchen for their work and for everything related to school. A table with shelves under the window holds laptops, homework and projects “in process.” A bulletin board holds school notices, announcements and permission slips.
I have book shelves -– one for Blake (the higher one because he is taller) and one for Madison so they can easily store and swap books as they are working, and grab books as they run out the door. A dictionary, reference books, school directories, and parent lists are good to keep here, too.
A drawer (or box) with hanging files is a blessing. We make a file for each subject, and as they need to file class notes or materials, they can pull the papers out of their binders and quickly pop them into the hanging files. In this manner, we keep down the paper clutter in their backpacks and preserve the class notes from getting mashed with bananas at the bottom of a backpack.
Keep a drawer (or box) with stationery supplies -– notebooks, paper, colored paper, erasers, pens, pencils, poster board -- immediately available so you don’t have to run out and buy glue at 11:00 p.m. the night before a project is due.
I also posted a checklist for Blake (when he was younger) and Madison that they can look at before leaving the house: Do you have lunch money, cell phone, books for the day, sweater, homework and projects?
Backpacks sit against the wall in an alcove, ready to go out the door in the morning, as we rushed to the train station or to the carpool.
Having a staging area helps “corral” all the school items, but it isn’t a guarantee. One time, my husband Ben (who does not have ADHD) decided to put the homework away, despite my asking him not to touch the homework. He succeeded in putting Madison’s homework into Blake’s backpack and Blake’s math project into Madison’s backpack. Blake left for high school thinking I had placed his project in his pack. I received a panic call from him when he arrived in San Francisco, saying that not only was his project missing but it was due that day. “Why is Madison’s homework in my backpack?” he asked. I made Ben leave work and drive Blake’s project up to the city. Needless to say, Ben decided to leave the homework alone after that.
My last idea: Be proactive with the school and establish a connection.
One of the first things you will want to do is set up a meeting with your son or daughter’s elementary, middle or high school teachers. “I don’t want you to have to guess,” I told them as I described Blake and Madison’s ADHD, the treatment, the medication, the routines, advice from our doctor, the IEPs, and the accommodations. Sometimes, even a simple accommodation can make a big difference. For example, when Blake was in 4th grade, just allowing him to get up from his seat and stand in the back of the classroom or leave the room for a drink of water, helped him refocus. I also warned them about Madison’s tendency to talk, and we agreed to place her in the front of the classroom.
You’ll find that teachers don’t necessarily know nor have access to the school files and they will appreciate your openness and honesty. You will also want to tell teachers how you will work with them, that you want them to call or email you if there is a problem. (Of course, you will get the calls and emails.) You want to make things consistent between home and school, and you want your child to know that you and the teachers are working together. This is always good for a child with ADHD.
This meeting is also an opportunity to talk to the teachers about your son or daughter’s strengths, their interest in space probes or Roman history or piano or swimming. The teacher will get a better picture of who your children are as individuals and may subsequently have more patience and understanding.
One of Blake’s 10th grade teachers, who is a very stern Russian lady, listened to me skeptically at first. Then she saw his talents. She was patient with his antics and even used her sense of humor to defuse situations. Finally, she admitted to me, at the end of the school year, that she really appreciated the fact that I had talked to her at the beginning of the year. “You gave me facts,” she said, “and set the tone.”
You have my three ideas, now, let’s hear yours…
Best,
Nadine
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)