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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1236901-My-rollercoaster-mornings-with-ADD-kids
by Izzy
Rated: E · Short Story · Parenting · #1236901
A humorous short story about one mothers morning routine with two ADHD children.
First and foremost, let me just articulate how much I do love and adore my children.  My daughter is a nine year old third grader with ADD.  She is beautiful and very smart.  I recall being pregnant with her and asking God that I please have a healthy intelligent child.  I now know the meaning of be careful what you ask for.  My son is a six year old kindergartner with ADHD.  He is creative, gentle, loving and a force to be reckoned with.  They are my greatest joy and my greatest misery at the same time.  Somehow, I wouldn't have it any other way. 

However, the rollercoaster rides we take together every morning before school are enough to make me feel like there is no sanity in the universe!  The huge sigh of relief that I experience as I watch the bus carry them away for school provides conflicting emotions within.  The only way to explain it is a roller coaster ride; not just any roller coaster; one of those huge high up in the air, low to the ground, in the tunnel, with lots of loops in between roller coasters.  The ride lasts for an hour and when you get off you are relieved that it is over, while still reveling in the excitement of the ride, wondering just how you got through it and contemplating should you do it again.  This is your morning; this is your morning with ADD kids; any questions?

Generally I being by waking the little angels up, they look so peaceful and loving while they are sleeping.  My daughter is usually in my son's bed, and he is usually in mine.  We don't start out that way, but it always ends up that way.  Invariably the message from both of them is the same.  I'm tired.  I'm cold.  I'm not going to school today.  Leave me alone.  Go away.  Turnoff the light, it hurts my eyes.  If you loved me, you wouldn't wake me up.  This could last for up to twenty minutes, before one of them decides to emerge from the upstairs wrapped in a blanket professing extreme hunger or they will most certainly die.  It always amazes me that someone so hungry could be so picky about what food they eat to sustain life.  After all, if I were that hungry, anything edible would be fine.  But alas, the starving child begins to shout out the only food that will bring them back from the brink of impending death.  This is the first slow chugging up to the top of the first hill.  Usually, how high we go depends on if I was able to accurately predict what to buy from the grocery store.  Most mornings, the hill isn't so bad and we get through it with relative ease unless I got the wrong type of breakfast food or haven't gone to the store in a while.  I never knew how important those little marshmallows in cereal would be in my life.  Amazing something so small could be so important to my mornings.  Who would have guessed!

If I am lucky, I have gotten through that first hill without too much stomach dropping.  Our second hill, however, has a tendency to ride up to altitudes as high as a 747.  This would be the clothing hill.  While my beautiful children are consuming their saving breakfast, I gather their clothes for the day.  Being dressed before breakfast doubles the laundry intake, so I've learned to forgo the dress code.  It seems inconsiderable that after all this time dressing them that I still can't seem to get it right, but apparently I am one of those clothing impaired mothers. 

My daughter professes her pants are either too loose, or too tight.  I am considering writing the various manufactures of these pants to request that they come to my house and measure her so they will finally get it right.  She also can't wear any shirts that are "like" someone else's shirt from school.  Yes, shopping for her is a complete joy.  And lastly, less clothing seems to be all the rage, regardless of the weather.  This can bring our first loop de loop on most mornings.

My son on the other hand has truly only one requirement; his clothes can't be cold.  I've yet to find how cold an item is on the tag, so guessing well is my only saving grace.  Jeans are cold, and met with refusals to wear them, and/or go to school.  Sweat pants might be a go, but we need to feel the inside to ensure warmth.  I often wonder if I am the only parent in the world that places their kid's cloths on the heat register or in the dryer before dressing them.  Heated clothes always seem to work, even the jeans, so score one for mommy!

Once we have dressed and located two shoes for each of them, we find their backpacks which are never in the place they are supposed to be each morning.  I am beginning to believe that they have legs and minds of their own since I put them in their "spots" after homework is completed every night.  Somehow throughout our night, they disappear and wind up in various places through out the house or even outside.  One of these nights I will videotape them to see where they go. 

By this time in the ride, we have had our breakfast argument which usually involves one of them harassing the other until screaming fits of rage or a breakdown of tears ensues.  Then the professing of dislike towards one another and the attempts of sabotaging each other to ensure they come out of it smelling like a rose and it is always the other's fault.  Unfortunately, mommy never comes out a winner in this one.  One or the other is convinced that I don't love them pending on who I am correcting at the time.  And of course, I always spend more time with the other one and zero time with them.  Where is that damn bus anyway?

Now that we have staved off hunger, gotten dressed, found our backpacks and shoes, and had our morning love fest we are ready to wait by the door for the bus.  If I time it right, the bus will be there in a few minutes, if not; the possibility exists that we will still be starving and rummaging the cupboards, misplacing our backpack (they really have legs), discussing how I love one more than the other, or feeling the need to go outside and explore.  Exploring is always bad and leads to a changing of clothes or more likely a teacher wondering what kind of mother would send their child to school with dirty clothes and doesn't she ever feed these kids!  I used to wonder what the teachers thought, but I finally figured that it would be better if I just didn't know!

By this time I have lost my ability to rationalize since I have been doing it all morning and I can't possibly think straight anymore.  Frustration sets in while I wonder what I can do to make our mornings less hectic.  Then it happens.  We see that big, bright, beautiful yellow bus turn the corner and come towards us.  I do the quick check, glasses, check, coats, check, backpacks, check, hugs, check, kisses, check, I love you, check, have a great day, check; then off they run to the bus.  This is the time I notice my son's pants did get dirty in those few minutes of waiting and my daughter did change her clothes from what I had picked out.  And, of course, they both have things in their hands that they know I don't allow them to take to school. Once they get on the bus and the doors closes, it happens just like clockwork.  My huge sigh of relief, it's time get off the roller coaster.  Whew, another ride survived, by tomorrow morning, I will have thoroughly recovered and be ready to do it all over again.  But for now, I bask in the relief that I made it through another morning, slowly sipping my coffee, smiling that all is well in the universe!

This is your morning; this is your morning with ADD kids; any questions?
© Copyright 2007 Izzy (izzy_martin at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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