Do as David Boreanaz Says - NOT as I do

If I thought there was any chance at all that David Boreanaz would actually see it or read it I would send the man a thank you note for his wonderfully insightful commencement address to the students of Ithica College.  He said, what I truly believe, every good parent wants their child to hear, to know, to internalize, and live their life by. He certainly said what I want my children to live by and what I believe in my heart is essential for them to understand as individuals that break the mold of normal, who think differently, who combine limitless energy and creativity with great intelligence in the pursuit of paths that are truly less traveled.

I was introduced to the show Bones not too long ago when my world came to a screeching halt with a long bout of pneumonia. It was my husband and children who encouraged me to watch it. I fell in love with it, in fact it may be the only TV show that I have ever fallen in love with.  Now they tease me because I follow the actors and actresses, the writers, and every bit of news I can find out about it. I became equally interested in the lead actor, David Boreanaz, as I watched interviews etc. because his energy, playfulness, impulsivity, and creativity reminds me of my children. I like finding successful adults who I can see my children's attributes in - it gives me hope that all the work and effort I put into raising mine will one day end well.  I like to see what has contributed to their success and hope to instill those principles into mine while they are still young and learn ways to encourage them as they grow older and struggle in a world that pushes for conformity rather than individuality.

early play

The commencement address given by David Boreanaz is great motivation and direction for young adults and adults; a pep talk before the big game, a reminder of what to seek and how to seek it to get the most out of life. It is also a great playbook of lessons to teach children as they grow up so that those messages are instilled in them from an early age. Whether you have children that are "normal" or kids like mine these messages are important. But when you have kids that march to the beat of their own drum, brake all the molds, and never knew there was even a box to think outside of these messages are critical.

One of the first things Mr Boreanaz laid out in his address was the importance finding your own authentic existence. To me he was saying find and own who you are, at your core. All of us have strengths and weaknesses it is not until we figure them out, until we own them, that we can begin to capitalize on our strengths and conquer our weaknesses.

He says he came by his authentic self through the honest process of play, "I cannot tell you the amount of times I spent and hours and the lives I lived among the gas cans and snow shovels and snow tires playing with those puppets and doing skits with my sisters. I learned early on that playing is so important...remember to play."

still playing

Play comes naturally to our children. In fact, they have played long beyond the age that society says they should and until I was listening to this talk and considering this post I never connected the absolute importance of it.  Next time I am complimented on the creativity, the talent in music and acting, their writing abilities, or what great artist they are and someone asks me how they all ended up so talented I know what to say.  Thank you, they are this way because we have always encouraged them to play.  And when my oldest, who has had such a wrestle with the notion of leaving childhood behind, is frustrated in her search for her path, I will remind her that growing up, when done right, does not mean you can no longer play. In fact, given her talents and desires playing may be the key to her
success.

Play, of course, must be combined with work to add up to progress. And work, the many jobs we hold on the path of life add dimension and experience to who we are.  David Boreanaz talked of the many jobs he held on the path to becoming what he is today and how those jobs worked for him in the end. He spoke of how each of those jobs helped him in his search for his authentic existence.  Some were, "tough...you guys have to work," he advised, "you have to earn it. No one is going to give you anything in this life. You have to earn it."

In a world where everything comes instantly it is hard for this generation to see that between steps A and step Z is a whole alphabet of experience. If we were to skip the experiences we skip all the wonderful stories and character they bring into our lives.


"laughing is essential." says David Boreanaz, "Laugh in your journey, laugh at yourself." I think I might have this one put on a plaque in my living room. Humor is critical to surviving the stresses and trials of life.  It is one thing that has made our family successful and saved us - otherwise the complete amount of chaos in this house would push us all over the mental edge. We have so many contradictory traits clamoring over each other, so much impulsivity, no filters on actions or mouths, people who need quiet and those that want everything loud, emerging social skills (and I use the term loosely) if we could not laugh at our weaknesses we would never have to strength to conquer them.

Get off the couch he advises, "it took an earth quake to get me off that couch." Taking charge of our lives and where we going takes effort and comes with risk and fear. Here, here is where I stumble, personally, and where I got the title for this post.  Mr Boreanaz says, "you see fear is a great motivator. So be uncomfortable, its okay, it gets you off the couch." And where I can say I have worked hard to instill these wonderful messages in my kids, whether I understood there relevance or not. I cannot say that I have been a good example of facing and conquering fear.  While Mr. Boreanaz seems to have a great relationship with fear I fall prey to it. While it is his motivator it is most certainly my captor, I think there might even be some water boarding involved. One of my greatest fears would be that while I tell my kids to take risks and not to let fear stop them they see that my example is just the opposite of my words.

In using the wonderful story Where the Wild Things Are (a family favorite in our house) he comes to a most beautiful conclusion saying, "there are so many malicious beasts at work in the world...the most destructive of all are the monsters born out of our own insecurities, you know them, its the negative messages that we give to ourselves. I can't do this. I'm going to fail. I'm not good enough. Don't listen to them...block them out...you can tame those thoughts. Don't be afraid. Fear blocks faith in yourself. it blocks your ability to love, it blocks out the sun if you let it ... be fearless."

And of course facing your fears brings you full circle to that search for your own self, your own story, the life you build and make and live. He says, "really living is the art of cutting through all the distractions of the day, finding a calm place in your head and your heart and getting to that core of yourself where you are most vulnerable and then own it."

This commencement address seemed perfectly timed.  It seems like for quite a while now we have been in a conversational rut with one of our older children. She tells us how frustrated she is with life and that it isn't progressing towards the end she really wants it to be going.  She points out how all of her friends lives are going places and how they are all doing things. She lists all their accomplishments. She laments that maybe she should take a different path, a more practical path like her friends.  She then sobs, real tears, over the path that she would abandon to be more practical.  I tell her to walk her own path, to recognize that her path
is different and different is good. I tell her to own who she is to not get lost in who other people are or distracted by what they are doing.

And after I listened to this address I said to her, "you HAVE to watch this, this was for you." I wanted her to hear someone else, who has lived a big life, tell her to trust herself, that authentic self that she has tapped into but is afraid to follow and act upon so she can live the big life she knows is inside of her. I wanted her to hear these powerful words that Boreanz spoke, "trust that what you love doing the most is what you're meant to do."  I wanted her to hear, not just listen, but hear him make this simple but beautiful comparison, "the dance floor of life is yours for the taking. Get out there, learn the moves, remember to strap on shoes that fit you, it's very important, not the ones that are perfect for someone else. Your turn on the dance floor, it won't be a minute waltz, more like a dance marathon."

And to her fear and mine he spoke, "You're going to make mistakes. Make them big, make huge mistakes, learn from your mistakes. You're going to get sidetracked, everybody gets sidetracked you might even get cancelled, don't take it personally please just get back out there because you know what, if you make it through season two they just might give you guys a spin off."

ADHD, dyslexia, SPD, dyspraxia, anxiety, OCD, dyscalculia, ODD, ASD depression they are all diagnosis, definitions, and parameters that help me understand the way my children think and how the way they are wired affects their actions.  When I say I wouldn't change those things about them if I could, I mean it.  They are amazing.  They are destined to live big lives and do great things using their unique perspective, their intelligence, creativity, energy, impulsiveness, imagination and more to change the world. Unique creative thinkers require unique and creative parenting. That is my passion, my children. I am certainly a work in progress myself  so for now I will say to my kids, you have to watch this, with the same enthusiasm and excitement  that they told me I had to watch Bones. I will sit them down and say listen to this, this is true and then I will add, "do as David Boreanaz says and I will try to also."

Our ADHD Holiday ADDventures

We are no strangers to adventures in holiday life - I have way to many stories - some charming and humorous, some terrifying, honestly, most are both.  It's just what you juggle when you juggle disorders like ADHD, Sensory Processing Disorders (SPD), anxiety, OCD, Aspergers, Autism, and many more.  Where "normal" families surely have bumps in their holiday road (I like to think they do anyways) navigating the special needs holiday highway can be a crazy obstacle course of road blocks and pot holes.

In case you're feeling like you're alone in having to juggle the holidays like exquisitely sharpened knives I thought I would share some of our families holiday adventures and mishaps

 I Saw Rachel Pantsing Santa Clause

Call it excitement, anticipation combined with impulsiveness.  Call it what ever you want to - I just remember sitting at a table with a bunch of other parents watching our adorable kids huddle around Santa, hankering for the candy he was passing out.  There was my daughter, about 8 years old at the time 9she's an adult now), impatiently tugging on his pants trying to get his attention. There was Santa, with his red furry pants around his ankles.  The parents were in an uproar, some racing to tell Santa - who had no clue he was flashing the entire Christmas Party.  Some literally rolling on the floor laughing.  Me, I was completely in shock - did that really just happen?

Twas the Night Before Christmas

One of our earliest holiday traditions seem to revolve around Christmas Eve.  Anticipation of the mornings stocking and present excitement building, cookies and milk set out, all the kids tucked safely in, surely it was time for mom and dad to relax a bit while everyone drifted off to sleep so the evenings real work could begin.  Magical, until, like clockwork, one children would wake up vomiting. Yep, we have an anxiety vomiter and Christmas Eve made her anxious.
Finally, one year, she cued us in on why we had established such a terrible Christmas tradition. When we were trying to get her calmed down she stammered out a question,"Why can't Santa leave the presents on the doorstep like the Easter Bunny?"

As she's gotten older she's expounded on her fear- she told us, 'think about it - an old man, who lives forever, who knows what you've been thinking, your deepest desires, who watches your every move, good or bad and sees you when you're sleeping and knows when you're awake.  He waits until you're asleep then sneaks into your house, eats food, and leaves presents. Creepy."

It was NOT okay with her.  I never would have guessed that in a million years.  The magic of Santa had never translated into danger for me. We didn't change our tradition of finding the presents under the tree or stockings full of small surprises but we did address her fears and figured out ways for her to feel safe.  Over the years she found enough peace to ditch her nasty Christmas Eve tradition - one we were all happy to see go. She loves the season she still is no fan of Santa. Lucky for her Santa loves her anyways.

Santa Claus is Coming to Town

A couple of years ago our oldest daughter was at the mall with our youngest son.  She thought she would do something special and sentimental with him so she offered to wait in line with him to see Santa Claus. He looked at her with skeptical eyes, "You want me to go sit on a strangers lap and reveal my deepest desires? Uh...NO thank you, that's not fun, that's creepy."

The Little Drummer Boy (Our not so little anymore flute girl)

Our daughter has played the flute since she was 7.  We got her started because she was such a little stress and anxiety ball and needed an outlet.  She's has always been gifted at it, had nearly perfect tone, and almost never hits the wrong notes.  Why?  She's has auditory defensiveness/sensitivity and hears wrong notes so intensely they drive her crazy.  She has a hard time enjoying music, though she loves it, writes it, breathes it like it was air to her, because she can't help but hear any missed variation.

Recently we were at a beautiful Christmas concert.  They had a flutist who had a very unnatural vibrato to everything she played.  Years ago our daughter would have loudly complained about it.  Everyone around us would have had a lecture on vibrato, and known exactly how violent this ladies was making our daughter.  We've found that progress in social skills and every other coping mechanism with our kids comes very slowly, sometimes it's down right imperceptible but then you wake up one day and all those little bits of progress have added up to something remarkable. 

She still complained, expressed her deep desire to run up to the stage, rip the flute out of the ladies hands and beat her with it. BUT, she didn't flee the building, huff and puff for everyone to see her disgust, and she whispered it.

"The Fire is so Delightful"

Our latest fascination it a video the kids stumbled onto while searching for Prep and Landing on Netflix.  It's a video of wood burning in the fireplace.  First of all, we have a fireplace to burn wood in but this has tripped every ADHD wire in their ADHD brains and they are fixated with it.  They keep joking about the special effects and fine quality of the video.  They were ecstatic to find out there was two episode and are eagerly awaiting a sequel.  They wanted to move the TV in front of the real fireplace just to watch the video, to buy a 100 inch TV so they could see it even bigger on the wall.  They run up and warm their hand in front of it, my son rips his shirt off because it's getting so hot, and they yell at each other for walking in front of the screen and obscuring the view.  Who knew a recorded fire could bring so much entertainment and fun, I didn't.

Hark, the Herald Angels Weep

My husband leaned over to me in church yesterday and said, "Do you think my plan for the tree topper angel is sacrilegious?" I honestly had to think about it for a minute or two.  I really don't hink of the Christmas tree is a very religious symbol of Christmas.  I know that their are all kind of explanations of how it represents different facets of faith but really I think those explanations  but personally I think the tree is a great decoration for the season and part of magical tradion and that's about it.

Qualifier, our kids are NOT very little anymore, our youngest is 12 in a couple weeks.  Fact, everyone in our house loves Dr. Who.  Add to this mix the fact that my husband has a deep seeded distaste for our Christmas Tree topper angel. Add to the old tree topper angel some serious ADHD, some creative genus, some impulsivity, some Modpodge, some spray paint, and you have a weeping angel Cristmas Tree topper.
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That's right, by tonight our new and improved weeping angel Christmas tree topper will be staring down from the top of the Christmas tree.  I leaned over to him and whispered back, "No, I don't think it's sacrilegious at all."

Holidays can be hard: uncomfortable clothes, overstimulating events, social skills war zone, organizational hell, too many demands coming from too many directions.  But in the midst of it all we have learned to compromise, teach, ditch the demands, and find what works for our family.  It's not perfect but it's our holiday, our traditions, and we love it.

Tonight - Reflections on a Day of Tragedy

Tonight I'm sitting in my living room, firing blazing in the fireplace, kids bickering, watching movies, drawing, telling stories, complaining, laughing, being.

Tonight I am soaking them in.

Tonight I'm praying for the families who's hearts and homes have been torn apart by a truly senseless act of violence. I'm wishing, like the rest of the country and world, that there was some way to make sense of the senseless.  I'm wishing that there was some way to legislate this away so it would never happen again.  Even though I know that there is no sense to be made of it.  Even though I know that legislation may make it better but what is broken here was beyond the reach of laws.

Tonight I am thinking back on the day and my own list of what should have happened before and after, soothing my own sense of wanting to control the aspects of life we have no control over.  Furious that my son's teacher played the news feed in his classroom in high school. I understand her need to know, to be connected to it.  But, I also know she wasn't thinking of the students in her classroom.  How they would feel.  What they would think.  If they were going home to families equipped help them process this terrible event or if she was sending them home where no one will be there to help them. 

Tonight I am reliving my own conversation with my own children when they came home from school - figuring out what information they had been given, what they thought and felt, what they were worried about.  Reassuring them that even if they didn't want to talk then they could come when ever they did want to talk.  Telling them that we would not be watching the news about it on TV but if they wanted more information we would look it up.  I didn't watch long, after my husband called and told me what had happened.  I couldn't, still can't get the pictures of the day out of my head.  Forever the sight of the flag being lowered to half mast will reside next to it being raised at the 9-11 site.  Tragic.  Tragic for the families, tragic for our American family, our world family.

Tonight I'm looking for a way to restore our families sense of safety and control over their world. I was talking to my daughter who did come to me privately, crying, she told me of the thoughts plaguing her.  How she couldn't stop thinking about the Christmas presents those parents had bought for their babies, those precious children. Those presents that would never be opened.  We cried together.  I told her there are so many things in this world that we can't control and when things like this happen sometimes it feels like we have no control.  I reminded her that there are many things we do control, can control.  She told me about a class project they did today making cards for a young man with cystic fibrosis reach a goal to get into the Book of World records. Something we can do, a way we can serve, a great way to exercise the control we do have in this way. Later I will deal with the school and live news feeds in the classroom.  Tonight, I am thinking of opportunities we have to serve tomorrow and the chance my family has to see that they can make a positive difference in peoples' lives, the control they can exercise.

Tonight the importance of spreading mental health awareness is central in my thoughts.  I wonder what signs were missed, what help could have been given, what could have been different for the young man who ripped the lives from these innocent children and adults.  I wonder what if mental illness wasn't such a mystery to the general public. What if there wasn't so much stigma and shame associated with this type of illness.  What if there were easily accessible resource for those suffering from mental health issues and their families.  We want to control the uncontrollable and there is so much we can't control but we can do better.  Certainly awareness, education, help is something we can do better at.

Tonight I will give hugs and kisses, listen to prayers for safety, for comfort for those that are hurting, for love and peace.  Tonight I will say a few myself.



* When the shootings in Aurora took place we did a blog on handling crisis with special needs family members 1156 Miles to Aurora - Dealing with Crisis and ADHD

An Inheritance from the Distracted King - Mastering Hyperfocus

Besides inheriting their ADHD from their father, the Distracted King, our children are benefiting from his years of experience and the many coping mechanisms that he has found to pay the heavy price tag of ADHD and open the great and marvelous gifts which it offers.

The King and I were talking today about hyperfocus, a quality of ADHD that can easily hijack the mind making it easy to get lost in ideas, creative ventures, and activities.  The conversation was inspired by a wonderful blogpost I read written by Zoe Kessler for Psych Central called A Hyperfocus Balance Sheet: Is Hyperfocus Worth it?  A wonderful breakdown of pros and cons to hyperfocus.  In the discussion the King said he considers hyperfocus one of the greatest qualities he gains from his ADHD.  It has taken a long time to get the balance just right, to master it rather than it controlling him, but now it's an asset that he uses in many aspects of daily life.

The benefits to my husband and our family are really hard to quantify but I have pinned down specifics of this sizable inheritance beyond the obvious financial benefits we have gained from his successful career.

The King has taught them to use hyperfocus to accomplish an unwanted, even hated task.  One of the hardest things for the ADHD mind to do is focus on something boring, uninteresting, or undesirable.  Unfortunately life is full of such tasks. Right now, for our kids, school is full of such tasks.  The King uses something that his mind wants to hyperfocus on as a carrot to get through the mundane and irritating.

We have a son, now a freshman in high school, who is a grammar freak.  Until we had him diagnosed with ADHD and medicated in the 1st grade he couldn't remember his alphabet. Then, like someone turned on a switch, he started reading.  Within a couple of months he was reading at a 6th grade level and much to the chagrin of the teachers and office staff he was correcting the spelling and grammar of the school newsletter and returning it each week.  Now this same son had to read a book in honors English, House on Mango Street.  It has been several months and he still randomly breaks out into rants about how horrible that book was to get through.  Why?  It has no grammar at all - just one run-on sentence.  The boy who can sit down and read a 400- 600 page book that he wants to read in a day or two was struggling to get through a page.

With the help of his father he learned how to hyperfocus on the task he didn't want to do so he could get to the one he wanted to do.  Reading chunks for the reward of reading chunks.  Important to note that you have to set limits on your pleasurable hyperfocus or you will easily get swept away.  In this case it was pages or chapters, sometimes it minutes or hours.  Today he used those same skills to write an essay for the same class.  Each time he uses the skills he is learning about managing his focus and engaging the ability to hyperfocus he is able to do more and more on his own without the Kings help of guidance.

The King has taught them how to establish a state of hyperfocus, how to get into the groove.  Getting into that hyperfocus state of mind is easy when it's where your mind wants to go but when it doesn't want to go there it can be very difficult.  The King has certainly proven it can be done.  He has also passed the process onto our children. Recently we found out we had to move, the King took one of our daughters out to the garage, surveying it he said to her, "Mary, I need to know what is in this garage.  I need someone who can get lost in this job."  Other than a few parameters he didn't tell her how to do the job. She strung up Christmas lights, found an old boombox we thought was dead forever, fixed it, blasted music, created a system for finding and cataloging everything in the garage, and went to town.

As each day passed she employed the first lesson listed above by doing other chores that needed to be done and then headed back to the garage.  The King is still teaching her the lesson, helping her learn to take breaks, praising her work and progress, helping her see the value of the time and effort she is putting into the task, and satisfaction of finishing a long hard job.

Important to note that the King didn't dictate how she got into the groove of hyperfocus, that is a very individual process that changes for each person and each task.

The King has taught them there is a time to stop - pull yourself from the groove and pay attention to other things in life.  It took the King years to learn this and personally I would like to think that I had a little something to do with it.  Just like he would go out the garage to help Mary learn to monitor and balance her ability to hyperfocus I have helped him, over the years, to see when he was loosing perspective.  This has probably been one of the harder lessons to learn but he has really come to a place of where he can pull himself from that hyperfocus state and enjoy the world around him.  Having both the ability to put yourself into that frame of mind and take yourself out of it allows you to use it daily, finishing  small projects and making marked progress on long ones.

Part of learning it and teaching it is learning to recognize what you need and what those around you need.  While getting his focus ripped out from under him is hard - he even describes it as painful, he has learned to communicate it and teach ways to cope with it to our kids.  Being self aware and being able to express it to others helps them understand where you are coming from and what they can do to help.  He consistently includes them by asking them to look at something he's working on and for their critique.  When our rather random house is firing distractions like a war zone he asks for their help in keeping his focus.  He often says I can't think about that right now but let me get to this point in my work and my attention is all yours.

The kids have become very good at being equally self aware and expressive.  As they vocalize their struggle between what they need to be doing and the multitude of ideas that flood them we can help them manage the way their brains work while they learn to manage it themselves.

Most commonly we see this manifested in the uncontrollable need to write down an idea, record a melody, or draw an inspired picture.  He has taught them to jot down notes or record ideas quickly and then get back to the required task at hand.  He has taught them that even though it is hard to wait they can.  They can remember the inspiration and act on it in the appropriate time.


The King has taught them that you can include others in your hyperfocus state, making it not such a solitary quality.  Their are aspects of his job that are not very inclusive.  We can't all sit around and edit a film or draw the same picture.  He includes us in the source of his hyperfocus by including us where he can.  More than just asking our opinions he has pulled us into his world and activities.  When he worked on a film a couple of years ago our family became intimately involved.  Our older girls were production assistants, the younger ones acted as extras, we were often on set if nothing else just to watch and be there with him.  We write stories as a family, make movies, deeply discuss art, literature, and music.  He proves all the time that hyperfocus does not need to be a solitary place, in fact it can be very inclusive as we look for ways to share our joys and obsessions.  Many of our fondest memories revolve around getting lost together in a wonderfully creative world come to life.

It has passed along to our children and they are know to come and share their inspiration with us and involve each other in their creative endeavors.  Fernando asks Hannah or Rachel for drawings of characters for his story, Mariah has Rachel help her with lyrics and has her sing her songs, Rachel takes lyrics to Mariah, they help each other with plot ideas for stories and movie, they share and pull others into their process.

The King as taught them that there is a satisfaction that comes in finishing, a confidence that carries you through to the next hard thing to conquer that requires the ability to hyperfocus.  When our daughter Mariah was about 15 she was already heavily into the world of composing music.  I think she fell into that world from the moment she took her first music lesson at 7 years old.  At 15 he had a tall order for her though.  He needed a song written for a movie he was working on - one that she could write and she and her sister could perform.  A song that would play during a movie scene where one of the characters, a young gang kid, is considering suicide.  He pulled her into his hyperfocus, spinning her off into her own.

It was a hard thing to do, she had to use all of the skills mentioned above to complete it. She had to pace herself and find balance using hyperfocus on a consistent basis to complete a task.  She had to put herself into that hyperfocus state when she didn't necessarily want to finding a process to do that, a place to best work, set the mood for herself.  She had to communicate when she needed help following inspiration because it finally hit.  Often she had to find ways to hold onto the inspiration and set it aside until she could work on it at the appropriate time and place.  Sometimes she needed help pulling herself from that place back into the flow of life.    It wasn't a song she ever would have written on her own, it was dictated by the script and mood of the film at that moment.  But she did it.  How priceless is the knowledge that you can apply yourself to a task that isn't what you would choose to do, one that is hard and painstaking, and you can finish with high praise.

ADHD is a life long disorder, the way their brains are wired is not going to suddenly change. They will struggle with how to manage and use the qualities of ADHD to some degree all their life but every bit of ground they gain, every bit of understanding, every tool they acquire changes what their future looks like.  They are fortunate that the Distracted King is there to lead the way, that he embraces his strengths and weaknesses and strives to show them that they can work on them everyday because he works on them everyday.  In the end is there really any inheritance more valuable than that.

*The song, Smoke and Mirrors, is written by Mariah Aro with help from her sister Rachel and performed by Rachel Aro with harmonies by Mariah.

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Vacuum Tube Transportation and Other Strokes of Genius

I have to admit, the older the kids get, the more responsible they are for getting their own medication in the morning, the harder time I have managing when they are getting close to running out.  Then, I'm in a rush to call the doctor's office for refill prescriptions, get them to pharmacy, and get refills before they run out.  So, more and more I end up in the drive through line at the pharmacy with one or more of my kids.  They're there because they are completely unmedicated.  Best bet is to take them with me.

Interestingly enough, my 13 year old son was talking about the experience of being unmedicated as we were on our way to pick up the medication.  He said he kind of enjoys being with out medication at first - there's a sort of freedom to his thoughts.  He indicated that at first that is a fun feeling - ideas bouncing around in his brain like a hand full of bouncy balls that have been thrown down really hard on the ground.  A sense that he's carried by his brain - having no control over where it will take him.


But, he added quickly, there's a relief when he takes his meds.  A sense that control is on the way, that soon he'll be able to manage the thoughts running through his mind.  He'll at least have some control over what he thinks about and where it will take him.  What an odd paradox - the freedom feels good but uncontrollable and therefore a little scary.  The control from the medication feels safe but somewhat restrictive.

We were still very much in the "freedom of thought" state when we pulled up to the pharmacy's drive through lane - the one with the vacuum tube that sucks your payment and paper prescriptions up a tube and deposits them in the pharmacy and then sends the medications back the same way.  I thought my boys were going to have an aneurism they were so excited.

They wanted to jump out of the car and into the tube themselves. They wanted to take it apart.  They wanted to know all about how it worked.  They wanted to make a super large one that ran from our house to their father's work and stick him in it every morning to send him off.  Dad's 6 foot 3 - he is a big guy.  This was an amazing visual that they could not resist.  Can you imagine, they mused, somebody's standing at work and wooosh, "Hey, it's Mark.  Mark's here!"  The sound effects and scenarios filled the car.

But what if he got stuck?  Easy, all they needed was a gigantic plunger or maybe a bunch of gigantic plungers.  A hatch would open, the gigantic plunging system would fall into place and plunge until daddy was successfully dislodged and sailing through the vacuum tube once more.  I was slightly disturbed - they were in heaven.

My next stop was to take my husband his lunch and medication, since he is equally as bad at telling me when he's close to out of meds, great at telling me when he has taken his last day.  As he walked up to meet us at the car the boys couldn't contain their excitement - they were talking over each other explaining design and functionality of vacuum tube travel.  The sound effects were flying like bullets in a war zone.

What did Mark have to say about all this, "Hmmm, what if you got positioned in the tube wrong.  You could get a really horrible wedgie."  Well, that was an unexpected answer.  The boys loved it.  Jaren pointed out that they were not going to stick him in the tube directly - he would be in a pod of sorts, sailing through the tube underground.  No atomic vacuum tube wedgies.  Mark was not happy about traveling underground.  He was totally up for vacuum tube travel as long as he could be up high, have a sense he was flying, and a great view. 

I passed out the meds and bottled water.

It was time for a little thought management.  Freedom of thought is not bad thing.  Most of the time it's amusing and certainly adds a lot of humor into our lives.  I am sure that many of the world's greatest creations have come from moments just like ours when one thought sparked another until something totally new and revolutionary came to mind and then into existence.

One thing that all of my ADHD/ADDers have pointed out is that medication does not take away their creativity and, believe me, they are an intensely creative group.  The minds in our house are full of art to draw, music to compose, inventions to build, films to make, and novels to write.  Medication allows them to aim their creativity, to follow through with their thoughts.  It allows them to take a concept, have the wherewithal  to take out of their mind, and create it in the real world.  Not without struggle, but it opens up the potential and makes success plausable.

This same son, Hunter, who was talking about his love hate relationship with medication pointed out that one of the hardest aspects of ADHD and its co-occurring conditions is to have such great thoughts.  So many thoughts that completing any of them is a struggle.  One great thought knocks the other out of the spot light, then that one is knocked by another in never ending bombardment of great ideas. The medication gives him the concentration and focus to further that cascade of brilliance and carefully direct it towards a fabulous end.

Does that mean that those that can't take medication or choose to not take medication are doomed.  No.  We have a daughter who has recently gone off stimulants.  They aggravated her anxiety, impulsiveness, and some other ADHD qualities to that point where what she gained in focus was nothing compared to what she lost to these other symptoms.  She would be the first to tell you how hard it has become to direct those brilliant creative thoughts into tangible completed work.  She's having to master her brain without the benefit of a stimulant and it is exhausting.  It easily one hundred times as hard, but, definitely doable.  Especially, since she is aware of the battle that's raging.  Trust me when I say she has a lot of, "lost the battle but will still win the war" days.

We are still laughing about my big husband, Mark, sailing through the vacuum transportation tube with a wedgie, on his way to work, hoping to avoid getting stuck in the tube, and having to be plunged to continue on his way.  We will be for a long time.  It's not likely that this particular idea is going to be the one we see to completion - I'm not so sure it should be.  But there are many more where that came from, in my house and in houses around the world where these brilliant brains reside.

These are the brains that given the right support, encouragement, and tools will change the world.  They will change the way we see it, feel about it, and interact with it.  The trick for us as parents, teachers, and caretakers of this unlimited amazing potential is to remember the possibilities, continue to encourage, and direct even when we are exhausted from being up all night because that child has insomnia. Even when your teenage daughter is torturing the cub scouts because she's frustrated and over stimulated.  Even when your brilliant child is in danger of failing because they haven't turned in one homework assignment all semester and no one told you until it was almost too late to fix.


The trick is to remember and hold onto the knowledge that they are brilliant because of their unique BRAINS not in spite of them.

Life Used to be SO Simple

I was driving the other day and came up behind a truck with this saying plastered to the back window, “Life used to be so simple.”  WOW!  This was very profound and especially hit home this week which seemed to be the explosive culmination of several crazy weeks in which life seemed to go completely sideways. 

So here is why I have not posted in such an intolerably L O N G time.  It started with Hannah’s anemia.  It has been a while now - Hannah has lived a tortured existence of iron pills, multi-vitamins and gross iron rich food.  I can not see a difference.  She is still exhausted, weak, and in pain.  She stays home at least one day a week to try and catch up.

Enter stage right Mark who has decided that now is a great time to abandon good health and be sicker than I have seen him in nearly 19 years of marriage.  A sinus infection and Bronchitis?  Really?  Bronchitis is my game not his.  He has been saying for three weeks now, “Man it stinks to be you!”  I appreciate the empathy but I wish that he would have kept it at imagining life in my shoes rather than living life in them.  He is now on a second round of antibiotics, prednisone, and inhalers.

One week ago Mariah injured her ankle; it has been hard to take it too seriously because she did it while sitting on her bed.  Surely, you can’t do that much damage just changing positions on the bed.  Wrong, she hasn’t been able to put pressure on it for a week, she has a date with the doctor on Monday to try and figure out what is wrong.

So we start the week with three members of the team benched for injury.  We are strong, we plug on, moving forward as best we can, faced with a crazy busy week of writing tests and Blue and Gold Cub Scout Dinners.  We are plate spinning at our best juggling school, church, film, life just to mention a few.

We get to Wednesday.  It is looking like Rachel is getting a little congested but I am hopeful because Rachel, like Mark has a stellar immune system.

We are baking cakes for the Blue and Gold Cake Auction, making casseroles for the potluck, racing to the church, decorating.  I think we have arrived when we sit down to eat.  Ha Ha Ha - silly me.

As we finish dinner and are getting ready to hand out awards when there is a huge collision in the doorway.  Hunter was running to get one of the boys and the boy was running to get into the room for awards. 

You can see where this is going, but here is what I didn’t expect.  The other boy is taller than Hunter and apparently had his mouth open.  His teeth went right into Hunter leaving about an 1 ½ inch gash right below his eyebrow.  

Hunter is realizing he is bleeding and starting to freak a little.  Hunter is a little OCD about such things, often telling people, “I have safety issues.” 

The other boy is walking around clearly astounded telling people, “I have blood on my teeth, but it isn’t mine.”

I grab napkins and slap them on Hunter’s eye.  Rachel announces that we hate to eat and run but that is exactly what we are going to be doing.

I say stitches, the other parents are trying to console me, maybe a butterfly bandage.  Until one grandpa opens it a little and the adults, who are all gathered around looking intently at the wound, step back in unison and announce, “Stitches.”

Off we roll; I drop off kids at home, and take a couple of the teenagers with me, Rachel and Fernando (faithful family friend).  We are on the road for an hour long journey to the hospital emergency room.  Fernando is dedicated about keeping Hunter calm and distracted by talking about various weapons and video games the entire ride.

It does not look good when we get there and of course you can’t help but over hear the horror stories of people there for 6 to 12 hours. 

I call Mark along the way and he wants to meet us at the ER, he has been working on the film after a full work day at the news station and the doctor’s appointment that lead to the prednisone.  Problem he is dizzy sitting down and dizzier standing up.  Not looking like driving is a good idea.

Hunter is sad, Mark is sad….I am SAD but life keeps going and I have to also.  Wait, wait, wait, stitch, stitch, stitch, and we are out of there.  I am thinking this going to be okay.  We get a snack and hit the freeway when Rachel announces she has a bloody nose.

Rachel gets bloody noses pretty frequently so I am not too alarmed…at first.  This bloody nose just goes crazy, the craziest thing I have ever seen.  Blood is pouring out her nose and she is gagging on it going down her throat.  I am trying to find every absorbable material in the car - I am running out.

I am thinking I am headed back to the ER.

But first I have to get some more paper towels or something, so I get off the freeway and think mini-mart.  There are NONE open!  I finally find one BUT they don’t sell paper towels or any towel like item!  After my frantic description the attendant hands me a whole package of there bathroom paper towels and a plastic bag of ice.  Thankfully the bloody nose stops.  We go home.

Wednesday transcended into Thursday - pharmacies, flat tires, more sickness and so it goes, right?

Friday, as I drove Mary to speech therapy in one town and occupational therapy in another town calling home intermittently to check on ankles, noses, and eyebrows I saw that truck, the truck of truth.

Life used to be so simple!

Studebakers and Bullet Trains

It has been an interesting year and a half.  You know that they say you never realize what you have until it’s gone.  This last year and a half we have been deep in pre-production, then production and now post-production of a feature film and Mark has been mostly GONE. Boy have we learned some stuff in his absence.During production everyone got to help. 

It was a family affair as our 3 oldest girls finished school a month early so that they could work as production assistants for their father on the film.  They got to rub elbows with the actors, distress clothes, gather props and wardrobe, dress sets and break down when everything was finished.

Post production is very solitary work; there is just a bunch of editing, re-editing and special effects to attend to.  Consequently, Mark goes from his day job straight to the studio he shares with his brother where he works as long as he can keep his eyes open and then sleeps at the studio.  He is only home on the weekends, with the occasional exception of a birthday or emergency.

As it turns out Mark provides a great deal of balance to the house.  I think it is because, as he puts it, he speaks the native language, the language of ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder). There are many times where he can understand, comfort and motivate in a way I can’t seem to achieve because he understands, really understands, the way a majority of the members of this house think and operate in their surroundings.

In his absence I am overwhelmed and overloaded.   The kids are struggling to find balance and communicate with me, who has very limited ADHD language skills.  I have really tried over the years to understand the way that Mark and our ADHD kids think, because there really is a difference in the way that we think and process information.  Despite my efforts I do not fluently speak the native language.

Every dark cloud has its silver lining.  We, the kids and I, are forced to better speak each others languages so that we can function, each other’s language. This is the key here and was the topic of much discussion this weekend.  Which resulted in what I thought was an excellent analogy.

Studebaker's and bullet trains, as you probably guessed I am in the Studebaker.  That is where Hannah and I mosey along the road taking in all the detail, enjoying a quiet peaceful ride, enjoying the view in its entirety.  The bullet train is, of course, traveling along with Mark and the 5 ADHD'ers in it at break neck speed.

Mariah argued that there is plenty of detail to be found on the bullet train, there are bug guts all over the windshield that can be seen in great detail.

Mark made the point that a lot of detail is lost because of the sheer speed at which the bullet train travels; comparing Rachel and Hannah and their reading skills.  It was quickly agreed upon that though Hannah and Rachel both read very quickly Rachel would finish a book faster if they started at the same time.  It was also agreed, as pointed out by Rachel, that Hannah would remember and comprehend more because Rachel skims the page and Hannah reads every word.

The problem in our house is that the bullet train keeps cutting off the Studebaker, they run right over us.  Enjoying the fast paced ride they rarely realize the offense, rarely stop to check out the damage, and rarely fix what has been broken.

It was interesting to listen as my husband explained the difference in these terms.  One thought, Hannah and I think that one thought in its entirety, from beginning to end (at least we try to).  One thought for his brain, for Rachel, Mariah, Mary, Hunter and Jaren’s brains is never one thought.  It opens an array, as he put it, in which every possible thought connected with that thought and a few that are not attached are explored in milliseconds.  It is its own conversation.

 Meanwhile, Hannah and I are still on the one thought, we are waiting to have the rest of the conversation and they are already done with it.  Anything we say or add is annoying because they have, mentally, already been there done that.

Their annoyance becomes obvious.

It was enlightening to our ADHD teenagers, especially Mariah who really has thought for years that the world was out to annoy her by telling her things that she already understood.  In fact, she put it just that way...

“You mean they aren’t trying to annoy me... they aren’t insulting my intelligence by continuing to talk about something I already get.”

It was a harsh reality as they started to recognize the side effects of life on the bullet train. 

Ironically, even as they were trying to rectify the situation and slow things down to listen to Hannah they kept interrupting her and then reminding themselves and her that they were going to let her express herself.  She must have restarted her thought about 20 or 30 times.  Fortunately she doesn’t have ADHD; she was able to keep track of what she was saying despite the interruptions.

Over the years I have made considerable effort to understand the way my ADHDers communicate and try…TRY to communicate in a way that they understand.  My husband, likewise, has made great efforts to communicate the way I do.  The result has been very positive for us.

He explained it to our kids like this; there are customs and cultures that come with any of the different languages of the world.  In a sense ADHD and non ADHD are like different languages, we NEED to learn to speak each others languages - each seeking to understand the differences and needs of the other. Learn to respect them, honor them.  That is hard to do while riding on the bullet train but it can be done.

More directly Mark said, “Just because you may already know where the Studebaker is going, it does not mean you have to spoil the ride for those that can't ride on the train without getting nauseous.  There is something of value on both paths and there is always something that can be learned from both means of transportation... it is the fool that is unwilling to consider both as viable and beneficial.  You may prefer one over the other, but if you want a true adventure, try the road less traveled now and then, you may actually learn something.”


Truth be told it takes great effort for those used to the bullet train to slow it down to the pace of the Studebaker.  Certainly it takes equal effort for those of us who like the Studebaker to brave the speeds of the bullet train and try to hang on for the ride.

...In the end we will all be better for it.