[Archive] 8/18/04

Wednesday, August 18, 2004
5 / 18 August 2004

Marbles in My Pocket

I was asked by an acquaintance what Adult ADD was like. This was my response.

I’ve been ADD all my life. But I didn’t “know” it until I was in my 50’s! I thought it was some kind of character defect, and I struggled against it for decades.

But I’m now kind of resigned to it – or, more likely, accustomed to it. I admit function best in a *slightly* cluttered environment. If something isn’t “in my face” I forget it’s around or needs to be done. That’s why I have to keep a calendar on the computer and have it pop-up the minute I turn on my computer every morning. that way I know exactly what I need to do. If I put away my current projects, I may not get back to them until they are past due because I won’t think of them. So my desk will always be messy.

I’m the original “pack rat” – I see “something shiny” in the living room, pick it up and trek toward the kitchen to put it away. On the way, I notice “something shiny” in the dining area, put down the first object and pick up the second object and trek toward the bedroom to put it away. I stop by my office to check e-mail, and put the object down. After checking e-mail and playing a couple of computer games, I get up and go out to the kitchen to make lunch. There I see “something shiny,” pick it up and take it with me toward the workshop. On the way, I walk through the family room, and notice one of the GKs left a game out. I put down the current object, start putting away the game, notice the rug needs to be vacuumed, get out the vacuum, notice the floor in the hall needs sweeping, put down the vacuum and go to get the broom. On the way to the broom I notice the game in the family room and get it picked up – but it doesn’t fit on the shelf, so I “jam” it in one way or another, and head to the laundry room – I don’t know why, I just go there. I turn around a few times wondering why I went there, and start back through the family room. Notice the vacuum is out, and hook it up, turn it on and start vacuuming. Notice that there are a few marbles and a chess piece on the floor, and turn off the vacuum to pick them up. Can’t find the box and board for the chess set, so I drop the chess piece in “a” drawer (I’ll probably never find it again when it’s needed – only when I happen to open the drawer and notice it). Put the marbles in my pocket. It is now noon, we usually eat lunch at 11:15 or 11:30, and the poor ol’ curmudgeon plaintively asks me about it. I fix lunch and we eat about 12:30 – not bad, only an hour late – and look around. The living room is not straightened, the family room is a mess, the kitchen is a mess, my office has something in it that belongs in the bedroom, and I’ve accomplished nada beyond vacuuming a 20 square inch area of the family room and preparing lunch. I have marbles in my pocket and I don’t know why! This is my ADD. Someone else may have a different experience.

My dear ol’ curmudgeon is very good about reminding me to do things. He gave up ever expecting a “neat-nik” kind of house. The kids think I’m a “space biscuit” (light and flakey). Long ago they told me, “Mom, we’ll never know if you develop Alzheimers – you’ve been spacey all your life!” This is true! I have very little short-term memory and have *never,* not even as a child, been able to remember names (nouns) or descriptors (adjectives, adverbs). Found out, after several botched “memory courses” that this is probably genetic and has to do with whenter you have access to a particular area of your brain – apparently mine has been in hiding all my life!

I am an “organizational hobbiest.” As my dear ol’ curmudgeon will say, “It’s another vain attempt at organization by the Space Biscuit!” The DKs just giggle and nod. They all know. And it *is* amusing. Thank goodness both the ol’ curmudgeon, the DKs and the DGKs all have a sense of humor about it! They don’t get mad (usually). Just a little exasperated and impatient from time to time, but they quickly get over it, and whatever set them off becomes the latest in a string of “my flake, the Mom” (or “my flake, the Wife”) stories to use to regale friends and relatives.

So we ADD’rs have to make decisions and try to stick to them! We stumble and get side-tracked, but over time, we try to get to where we can handle things better and better. I don’t ever expect to be perfect! It doesn’t happen to anyone! But I can be a success at nearly anything I put my mind and determination to. I’ve managed to (in order):

get a BSN (nursing)
marry
have 2 kids
get a masters
have a third kid
move three times
go through a divorce
go through bankruptcy
marry again
*Convert to Eastern Orthodoxy* – best decision I **ever** made!
move several more times
teach in a university
marry off 2 kids
get a PhD
assistant direct choir
marry off the third kid
manage a complex computer-based Operating Room support system
start and run my own business
Enjoy the 10 grandchildren
enjoy my husband

I still struggle, at well past 60, to deal with my ADD, but I can look back and see that I compensated for it, and I know I will be able to continue compensating for it. It will always be with me, like someone with diabetes will always have that with them, but just as diabetes can be managed, so ADD can be managed. I just have to work a little harder at it than some other people do. But I’m really blessed by God. I have a husband who adores me – and I adore him right back – I have 3 wonderful children and 10 marvelous grandkids (my reward for not strangling the 3 kids when they were teens!). I’m respected in my career.

Well, That’s what Adult ADD is for me. I have marbles in my pocket and I don’t know why!
[Originally] Posted by Elizabeth at 8/18/2004 08:35:00 PM
2 comments:

Anonymous said…

Those marbles in your pocket are mine! And I want them back! LOL!!!

Andreas 😀
10/30/2007 11:50 PM
Elizabeth said…

LOL! I’ll mail them back to you – or even better, “come an’ git ’em!”

Elizabeth
10/31/2007 5:38 AM

Two Remarkable Women

I am continually puzzled at the seeming war between so many mothers and the women their sons marry – or women and the mothers of their husbands. What is this? Why is it?

I suppose the reason I am puzzled, is that I was blessed – utterly blessed – by the two remarkable women who were my mothers-in-law. J-2’s mother, C, was the oldest girl in a family of 9 siblings. We called them the “Fab 9.” Eight of the “Fab 9” received Master’s, PhD’s or MD degrees. Their parents struggled as all parents do – juggling work, housework, child care, the varioius chiodhood illnesses (that we seldom see anymore). To prevent the spread of potential infectious agents, The mother of that family insisted each child use only his or her own towels and washclothes, which were washed regularly twice a week. I couldn’t do that with only 3 kids! Meals were times to discuss politics, science, law, literature. A certain amount of time was to be devoted to reading.

C and her husband J-1 raised J-2 and his siblings similarly. When J-2 contracted polio, he was treated and given physical therapy ala Sister Kinney’s therapeutic model. Both C and J-1 worked with J-2 to help him learn to walk again. They used hot packs, they used massage, and they used splints as necessary to help him walk again.

J-2 became a hiker and camper with the rest of the family. He was an Eagle Scout, spurred on by his father, who was well-known in Scouting circles. C stayed home with the children until they were in school, at which time she returned to college to obtain a Master’s Degree in Librarianship. She began working at a local community college library and ended up revamping their entire cataloging system. She was respected in her workplace.

When J-2 and I married, she was never snippy or snappy, never took sides. She shared recipes that J-2 liked, and made some really good suggestions about other things. We had a cordial relationship – one which I treasured.

After J-2 left me and the 3 children, I was devastated – not only because I was losing him, but because I was losing his family and extended family. I loved having aunts, uncles and cousins – even if only by marriage. When J-2 married shortly after our divorce was final, C came to the wedding. But she stayed with me! She went out to dinner with me, the Ol’ Curmudgeon and his mother as well as visiting with my mother in the nursing home. She was a gracious lady, who never lost contact with her grandchildren. She and J-1 brought them to visit one by one – in order to spend more time with each of them, and to get to know them individually. But, beyond that, this remarkable woman continued to keep in touch with me, personally, and enjoyed conversing with the Ol’ Curmudgeon.

About 20 years later, a choir conference took the Ol’ Curmudgeon out to the west coast near where she and her wonderful husband lived. We called them as soon as we knew we would be going, and asked if they had time for us to drive over to visit with them for a little while. They actually invited both of us to stay with them for 3 days. We had a wonderful visit with them. I’m so glad we went, because they both died only a couple of years later.

The Ol’ Curmudgeon’s mother is the second remarkable woman. Although she thought at the time it was a mistake for him to marry me, she never said anything to me about it. We went shopping, we visited, we had lunch together. Nary a word. Just good conversation and enjoyment of each other. I made sure to ask her for all the recipes the Ol’ Curmudgeon had enjoyed as a child so I could fix them for him. She gracioiusly shared them with me.

P had been a “spinster school teacher” at a University in the Atlanta area for years, when she met her husband. He was a post-WW II student on the GI Bill. He worked days and went to school nights – totally exhausted. One evening in her English class, he was sprawled across his desk in total exhaustion, when she said, “Mr. R, how would you like it if I sprawled across my desk in such an unseemly manner?” “Miss H,” he replied, “I’d purely love it!” They had a whirlwind courtship and married. Now, professors did NOT marry their students – it was called “moral turpitude,” and just WASN’T DONE. Even at the college level. So he used to spend a lot of time hiding in the bathroom when her friends came over – so no one would know! He once remarked he would write a book entitled, “My Life on the Toilet – Or My First Six Months of Marriage!” When she became pregnant, they moved post haste to another state, many states over, and didn’t move back until the Ol’ Curmudgeon and later his sister were born. By that time, any scandal pertaining to their actions had died down, and she returned to the same college (now a University), picking up where she left off. She taught there for over 40 years, and was beloved by both students and faculty, and, incidentally, administration. She believed in education, but believed it had to come from within the individual rather than be imposed externally.

On the weekends the children were visiting with their father, we used to go over to her house and have breakfast on Saturdays. We attended the same Church and went together. After we converted to Orthodoxy, she attended a few times, but never caught on fire. She admitted she thought it was the true Church, but just couldn’t “deal” with the services. It was a sadness for the Ol’ Curmudgeon, but he gave her her own decisions just as she gave him his. No recriminations.

After the Ol’ Curmudgeon and I had been married about 5 years, she admitted that she hadn’t thought it was the right thing to do, and that she was glad she was wrong. She believed at that point that we were very good for each other. She “adopted” my children as her own grandchildren and made no distinctions between them and her bio-grandchild. She loved them, and she made no bones about it, she loved me and was proud of me.

When I was teaching in SC, the Ol’ Curmudgeon couldn’t find a job up there, so he moved in with her during the week, and came home on weekends. Not a way to run a marriage, but it worked for us because we were determined to not allow the separations affect us. I look back on it now, and I’m so glad he had this time to spend with his mother – she died about 18 months after he started living there. He speaks fondly and wistfully of the evening conversations they had.

She died long before I was ready to let her go – but isn’t that nearly always the way? I miss her to this day. Just as I miss C and J-1.

Memory Eternal!

[Archive #15]

Wednesday, August 18, 2004
5 / 18 August 2004

Marbles in My Pocket

I was asked by an acquaintance what Adult ADD was like. This was my response.

I’ve been ADD all my life. But I didn’t “know” it until I was in my 50’s! I thought it was some kind of character defect, and I struggled against it for decades.

But I’m now kind of resigned to it – or, more likely, accustomed to it. I admit function best in a *slightly* cluttered environment. If something isn’t “in my face” I forget it’s around or needs to be done. That’s why I have to keep a calendar on the computer and have it pop-up the minute I turn on my computer every morning. that way I know exactly what I need to do. If I put away my current projects, I may not get back to them until they are past due because I won’t think of them. So my desk will always be messy.

I’m the original “pack rat” – I see “something shiny” in the living room, pick it up and trek toward the kitchen to put it away. On the way, I notice “something shiny” in the dining area, put down the first object and pick up the second object and trek toward the bedroom to put it away. I stop by my office to check e-mail, and put the object down. After checking e-mail and playing a couple of computer games, I get up and go out to the kitchen to make lunch. There I see “something shiny,” pick it up and take it with me toward the workshop. On the way, I walk through the family room, and notice one of the GKs left a game out. I put down the current object, start putting away the game, notice the rug needs to be vacuumed, get out the vacuum, notice the floor in the hall needs sweeping, put down the vacuum and go to get the broom. On the way to the broom I notice the game in the family room and get it picked up – but it doesn’t fit on the shelf, so I “jam” it in one way or another, and head to the laundry room – I don’t know why, I just go there. I turn around a few times wondering why I went there, and start back through the family room. Notice the vacuum is out, and hook it up, turn it on and start vacuuming. Notice that there are a few marbles and a chess piece on the floor, and turn off the vacuum to pick them up. Can’t find the box and board for the chess set, so I drop the chess piece in “a” drawer (I’ll probably never find it again when it’s needed – only when I happen to open the drawer and notice it). Put the marbles in my pocket. It is now noon, we usually eat lunch at 11:15 or 11:30, and the poor ol’ curmudgeon plaintively asks me about it. I fix lunch and we eat about 12:30 – not bad, only an hour late – and look around. The living room is not straightened, the family room is a mess, the kitchen is a mess, my office has something in it that belongs in the bedroom, and I’ve accomplished nada beyond vacuuming a 20 square inch area of the family room and preparing lunch. I have marbles in my pocket and I don’t know why! This is my ADD. Someone else may have a different experience.

My dear ol’ curmudgeon is very good about reminding me to do things. He gave up ever expecting a “neat-nik” kind of house. The kids think I’m a “space biscuit” (light and flakey). Long ago they told me, “Mom, we’ll never know if you develop Alzheimers – you’ve been spacey all your life!” This is true! I have very little short-term memory and have *never,* not even as a child, been able to remember names (nouns) or descriptors (adjectives, adverbs). Found out, after several botched “memory courses” that this is probably genetic and has to do with whenter you have access to a particular area of your brain – apparently mine has been in hiding all my life!

I am an “organizational hobbiest.” As my dear ol’ curmudgeon will say, “It’s another vain attempt at organization by the Space Biscuit!” The DKs just giggle and nod. They all know. And it *is* amusing. Thank goodness both the ol’ curmudgeon, the DKs and the DGKs all have a sense of humor about it! They don’t get mad (usually). Just a little exasperated and impatient from time to time, but they quickly get over it, and whatever set them off becomes the latest in a string of “my flake, the Mom” (or “my flake, the Wife”) stories to use to regale friends and relatives.

So we ADD’rs have to make decisions and try to stick to them! We stumble and get side-tracked, but over time, we try to get to where we can handle things better and better. I don’t ever expect to be perfect! It doesn’t happen to anyone! But I can be a success at nearly anything I put my mind and determination to.

I’ve managed to (in order):

Get a BSN (nursing)
Marry
Work as a maternity nurse
Have 2 kids
Get a masters while working part-time as a NICU nurse
Have a third kid
Work as a Nurse-Midwife
Be a State Nursing Consultant
Move three times
Go through a divorce
Go through bankruptcy
Marry again
*Convert to Eastern Orthodoxy* – best decision I **ever** made!
Move several more times
Teach in a university
Marry off 2 kids
Get a PhD
Assistant direct choir
Marry off the third kid
Manage a complex computer-based Operating Room support system
Start and run my own business
Enjoy the 10 grandchildren [NB – now 11 + 1 foster]
Enjoy my husband

I still struggle, at well past 60, to deal with my ADD, but I can look back and see that I compensated for it, and I know I will be able to continue compensating for it. It will always be with me, like someone with diabetes will always have that with them, but just as diabetes can be managed, so ADD can be managed. I just have to work a little harder at it than some other people do. But I’m really blessed by God. I have a husband who adores me – and I adore him right back – I have 3 wonderful children and 10 marvelous grandkids (my reward for not strangling the 3 kids when they were teens!). I’m respected in my career.

Well, That’s what Adult ADD is for me. I have marbles in my pocket and I don’t know why!

Posted by Elizabeth at 8/18/2004 08:35:00 PM
2 comments:

Anonymous said…

Those marbles in your pocket are mine! And I want them back! LOL!!!

Andreas 😀

10/30/2007 11:50 PM
Elizabeth said…

LOL! I’ll mail them back to you – or even better, “come an’ git ’em!”

Elizabeth
10/31/2007 5:38 AM