Having a Child with ADHD- the Reality

So, this post is going to be about ADHD and the reality of it. Yes, I will be making fun of it but hey, if you don’t laugh, you will be miserable. So, if you are sensitive, don’t read any further.

Our oldest son, Vincent, has ADHD and I am pretty sure he is spreading his symptoms to our middle son, Nicholas. Yes, it’s like watching a forest fire spread and the only way to fight the flames is with your garden hose.

They are literally like little forest fires. Jumping from one thing to the other causing mayhem and chaos as they go.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my children dearly but dear, sweet Jesus, I can’t keep up with their shenanigans.

On Monday morning, we had a really hard core thunderstorm and both boys came into our bedroom. And I don’t care because they are scared and need some love and that’s fine. What wasn’t fine was that after my morning alarm went off, I told both boys that they could stay in my bed and quietly watch the thunderstorm.

So off I go, begrudgingly of course, because who wants to go to work during a monsoon, let alone ever? I went in the bathroom to pee, and I kid you not, Vincent came in as my butt was making contact with the toliet. Guess what he told me?

No guesses? Ok, that’s because he wanted to let me know… at 5:47am that he could see the moon sometimes behind the sun.

Really? I mean peeing in the early morning hours is the only me time I have and he is telling me about his ability to see both the sun and moon at the same time. No son, you are basically staring into the sun and burning your corneas.

So, I don’t want to hurt his feelings and I tell him how interesting that is and send him back to my room so I can finish getting ready.

When I finally emerge from the bathroom in all my glory, the boys are thankfully not in my bedroom but are discussing important life matters, loudly in Vincent’s room. Meanwhile, our five year old is still sleeping and I walk into Vincent’s room and tell the boys that they have to whisper.

Nicholas does a fine job but Vincent was born without a volume control. I can hear the kid through two doors and a hallway.

When I finally open up my bedroom door, my two boys are standing there proudly. Nicholas turns to me and says, ‘hey mommy, do you like our breasts? It was Vincent’s idea.’

Yup, I am so glad I asked them to sit on my bed, whisper and quietly watch the storm. Instead I learned that it is possible to stare at the sun and burn your eyes and that boys can have breasts.

Until next time,

Did you at least buy a bra?

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Church Escapades: the Lost Files.

So it has been a while since I have talked about my three young children, ages nine, seven and five, at church. Church is still a hassle because I spend more time disciplining than listening. So here is today’s adventure.

1) The kids cried from the parking lot to the church that they didn’t want to go to mass. Most kids say they don’t want to go because it’s boring. My kids cried because it was too cold outside and this was the justification of why they didn’t want to go. Yeah, makes total sense.

2) In the middle of mass, Vincent pulled a rock out of his jacket. It wasn’t a rock, it was a boulder. And not just any boulder, but one that had his name on it. Written in old world viking language. Wtf?

3) Vincent made Nicholas laugh so hard that the kid snorted. And he snorted out a giant pile of snot. And he was sitting on my lap and I didn’t have tissues. So naturally, I used my hands and then Joe, my husband, looked at me and held out his hand. Not knowing what had happened with Nicholas, I just gently passed off a handful of snot and then we both rubbed it in like lotion. I guess this explains why no one shook our hand at the Peace Be With You part of mass.

4) Nicholas and Vincent finally settled down during the consecration of the Eucharist. When the priest sang, ‘the Mystery of Faith,’ both boys sang with him but changed it to their version which is ‘Mystery of Face.’

5) Then the priest raises Jesus to the heavens and starts to chant, except his chant is in stereo because both boys are singing with him… ‘in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God forever and ever.’ They did so well, I am considering asking the priest if he needs backup singers on the alter every Sunday.

6) I guess Nicholas got bored with chanting and he leans over to the other pew and is playing with what I can only assume is a fuzzy. No, it wasn’t. It was a nail. A human nail. And no, it wasn’t ours.

7) I told him to put it down because that was beyond disgusting and instead he named it. ‘Mommy, this nail is pum-pum.’ So gross but I tried to keep my cool.

8) Then he reached over and found another nail and looked up and me and said, ‘this is pum-pum. And this one is pum-pum junior.’ Well, that was when I busted out laughing.

9) So clearly he isn’t listening as I am telling him that these human nails could be cased with disease. I look over and he has one nail on each hand and he is whispering to himself. ‘Hello pum-pum. Hello pum-pum junior. I now baptize you. Yaaaay.’ Seriously, what is happening.

10) As we are leaving, I finally get a chance to wipe off Nicholas and he starts to cry about me killing pum-pum. So I broke of my nail and gave it to him and he said, ‘this isn’t pum-pum. It doesn’t look anything like him.’

Until next time,

Throw your nails in the trash like a decent human or train your kids about human waste.

The Return From Spring Break.

So today was the return from spring break and you know what it was filled with? Let me tell you…

1) Questions. You are obligated to ask, ‘how was your spring break?’ Shut your pie hole… I am sure it was good but too short. I didn’t really want an answer.

2) Bladder infections. I peed once at 6am and then again at 3pm. Teachers have bladders of steel and high insurance rates on their bladders.

3) Vegetables. Yup, celery and guacamole. When I was on break, I was eating normal food. Today, it was whatever I could grab out of the fridge.

4) Coffee. Yes, I had coffee on break but at school, coffee is your fucking life because you are listening to kids talk about their lives and sometimes you have to appear to be interested.

5) Phone calls. I never answer my cell phone… ever. But at school you have to answer your office phone everytime it rings. My favorite is when someone calls me with a message for a kid. Then I give the message, sit across the room and the same damn phone rings from the same damn person with the same damn message for another student. Please, for the love of God and all that is holy, get organized before you dial my extension.

6) Bells. Listen, I do stuff when I want to do stuff but now my life revolves around a bell. Everytime I hear a bell, I am counting down until the end of the day. Only 93 minutes to go!

7) Silent Judgment. I am constantly on the lookout for kids being idiots and now that break is over, I am silently judging their life choices. Why don’t you eat a tide pod or inhale a condom because that is basically what I need you to do so I can laugh while I am silently judging you. Just kidding, don’t do that, you idiots.

8) Constantly asking you to clean-up. Oh wait, I do that at home too with my own kids. But seriously, clean up your own mess you heathens… you’re in high school.

9) Thinking. All spring break, I could literally just stare at the wall if I wanted to. Now I have kids asking me for things like pencils and erasers. You are in art class. Pencils and erasers is the basis of our existence.

10) Crying. Yup, I cried on Sunday because I had to roll up to this place but what completes my first day back is when I make a kid cry in my first period of my day.

Hey. If you are going to be an asshole, I am going to let you know. Think about your life choices and don’t disappoint me because all i am really going to do is steal your soul, make you cry and silently judge you the rest of class.

Until next time,

The countdown is on till summer.

Get a Partner Who…

So this weekend has been full of depression and anxiety now that spring break is coming to a close. And I am not talking the fun, ‘aww, spring break is ending,’ I am talking about the pure and raw emotion that comes with me and school because of my PTSD around school shootings. I also am in part a very emotional and angry person and that is contributing to my feelings of anxiety and depression.

This morning I told my husband that I was so depressed that I couldn’t get out of bed. And the following is a message on why you need a partner like my husband.

1) ‘Ally, remember that song by Celine Dion (my favorite singer), ‘A New Day Has Come?’ And then he proceeded to sing it to me.

2) Then when the words got too complicated he started a Celine Dion ballad of all the songs he knew. So it was half of My Heart Will Go On and half of a New Day Has Come.

3) He looks at me and knows I need a hug.

4) Yesterday he bought me wine.

5) He doesn’t judge me for taking medication to help my anxiety and he holds my hand when he knows I am judging myself for it.

Until next time,

Allison

Do You Even Run Bro?

So, my fat ass was on the way to work and when I raised my weary eyes, I saw this car in front of me. Let me tell you something, all you runners out there, I don’t run. I barely walk and if I am walking, I usually have a destination in mind. Like, walking to my car… my car takes me places that are miles away. If you are running for that same outcome there is something wrong with you. Yes, that is a judgement.

I don’t need to see the magnets on your car. I don’ need to know that you ran 13.2 miles. I don’t even know what 19.3 miles is; what is that? Like some kind of Iron Man? Are you sick?

I don’t need your magnets that tells me to ‘run’ and ‘to be happy’ and that ‘kindness matters.’ I don’t need you to tell this fatty how to live my life.

You know what makes me want to be happy, to be kind and to run? A sale at the liquor store.

So, I want you to think about how you decorate your car. Not everyone needs to know your business. And if we are all going to decorate our cars, now that magnets are a thing, I am going to decorate my car with magnets that say things like, ‘cupcakes,’ ‘I run if I am being chased’ and ‘I am a lot kinder if I am drinking.’

I feel like making a list. Here is my list about why runners make me angry:

  1. You put those magnets all over your car. Why don’t you just wear your medals around your neck all the time; kind of like I wear my muffin top?
  2. Your shoes are always on point. You spend like a $100 for a nice pair of sneakers. Meanwhile, I bought my sneakers off of an ad I saw on Facebook because they had little cameras on them.
  3. You sweat and you like it. I sweat and I feel gross. And no offense, don’t come near me because you stink.
  4. You taste salty after a big run. I have kissed my husband after a marathon and all I taste is salt and you know what that does to me? It makes me want a soft pretzel.
  5. You run for fun. Ok, if that’s what you do for fun maybe you need to get out more. Try a movie.
  6. Spandex and/or yoga pants. I don’t need to see all of your curves and lines. Do you want me to put on spandex? It would basically be like viewing a human sausage in casing.
  7.  Your selfies on social media after you run. No. One. Wants. To. See. That. Do you want to see me after I walk up a flight of stairs? I mean, I look the same as you but I am not posting it all over social media.
  8. All the water you drink. I hate hearing, ‘hey, I drank like nine cups of water today.’ Ok, I don’t drink nine cups of water in nine days. My body is 80% coffee.
  9. ‘I LOVE vegetables.’ Bro, shut the fuck up. I went down the beach with some friends and they came back to the beach house to eat peppers and carrots after their morning exercise. By the time they came home, I had already drank two cups of coffee and ate two oatmeal cream pies. Not my proudest moment but a delicious moment.
  10. The invitation. Yeah, I get excited when you invite me out with you and then I find out that you are literally inviting me out to run with you. The answer is no. I will meet you there… in my car; that has heated seats and artificial warm air that is blowing in my face.

Until next time,

Stop decorating your cars because people end up writing blogs about you.

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Finding Out Too Much

So I guess I have taught my kids too much…

‘Mom, are you itching your vagina?’ – son number 1

‘Yeah, I guess so.’ -me

‘You’re supposed to do that in the bathroom or your room.’ -son number 1

‘No… that’s if I wanted to play with my vagina. If I wanted to play with it, I would play with it in my room or the bathroom.’ -me

‘Well, I play with my penis in the wild.’ -son number 2

‘Well, don’t do that.’ -me

‘Yeah, I play with mine in school sometimes.’ -son number 1

‘Oh dear God. No.’ -me

Until next time,

Watch out for the wild penis.

The ‘Talk.’

So last night was girls night and me and my daughter were home by ourselves. We picked up all the necessities for a girls night: sushi, oreos and ice cream. She wanted fruit but whaaaat? No, that does not fit in with a girls night.

After we ate sushi, I unwrapped my little girls first Ben and Jerry’s.

We had the talk that every mother should have when their daughter has their first Ben and Jerry. I looked deep in her eyes and told her the following:

‘Ok, you eat this ice cream for the following reasons.

1) If boys are being dou…er, butt heads. (Yup, I almost said douche bags).

2) If you are having a terrible day and you can’t stop crying. (I almost told her to accompany the ice cream with a bottle of wine).

3) If boys are being butt heads. (It needed to be said for emphasis).

And lastly, you never eat the whole thing because you will most likely need it the next day.’

And then, it’s that moment every mother looks forward to; I handed her the spoon.

Then she looked at me and said, ‘I don’t think I want this… I think I want Oreos instead.’

Until next time,

Just stab me in the heart because it would hurt less.