Getting Ready for the Holidays

I wish I had known about attention-deficit disorder early in our marriage. Of course, we didn’t use that term in those days, but had I known, life would have been easier for Husband during the last weeks of any given year. My quest for perfect holidays clashed with his ADHD.

I began the first week of each November sharing all I wanted to accomplish for the holiday season from Thanksgiving through New Year’s Day.

His eyes glazed over when he heard the length of the to-do list, which I assumed was his list, too. However, I didn’t notice his confusion. I presumed he was as enthusiastic about the season as I was.

His reaction was to mentally sit down and stubbornly refuse to get going. I am certain I heard him groan inwardly. No, I take that back. He was most vocal with his complaints.

I thought of presents he could make or build for the children. He said, “Make? I can’t even find my hammer and nails.”

I dreamed of a beautifully decorated house when his family came for Christmas. He dreamed of solitude and retorted, “Who invited them anyway?”

When I planned an evening for making dozens of different types of cookies, he said, “I think three dozen sugar cookies are enough. We can decorate them with sprinkles.”

My holiday planning brought stress to our lives.

Today I am older and wiser; I realize I had most unrealistic expectations for both Husband and myself in terms of time and money. Instead of a Should List, it would have been better to have a Preference List. Even a This Would Be Nice List would have reduced the stress.

If you are a person with ADHD or married to one, I recommend you develop a stress-less approach to holiday planning. The operant word is priorities.

1.     Self-care. Schedule time each day for exercise, naps, and time with your immediate family. Mindfully meditate and pray.

2.    Your emphasis. Choose the most significant element of the holiday around which to build your celebrations. If it is the religious meaning, center your plans in relation to a special religious service or hosting a holiday buffet.

3.    Lights and decorations. Perhaps you really gain delight from the festivities of the holidays. Plan when you will spend time with family and friends. Plan to give simple gifts as a sign of affection and thoughtfulness. Keep decorations to a minimum and shop online where you will find numerous perfect gifts at bargain prices.

4.    Holiday messages and cards. I don’t think it is tacky to send email messages during the holidays. Make messages personal, and consider how you will keep the contact green by protecting the environment.

5.    Holiday Goodies. If your holiday should be filled with special treats, buy them, or barter with a friend who likes to bake. Perhaps your friend would rather bake than wrap presents or address cards.

Ask, “What works best for my situation?”, and set your goals accordingly. If you need help setting your goals, contact McNay & Voth ADHD Coaching (www.coachadhd.com) for the support and encouragement you need. Have fun during the holidays.

 

Thankful

Recently I told Husband: “I often ask parents of kids or teens to name their children’s strengths. Their answers always include similar qualities: creative, highly intelligent, eager to help, kind, loving. Isn’t that interesting?”

He kept a straight face: “I know. I resemble those qualities.”

“Yes, you do, and it is not a joke. Those are some of the reasons why I agreed to marry you.”

“What else?”

“What else, what? Why else did I want to marry you?”

He nodded his head.

“You were young, tall, blonde, and handsome. I loved your sense of humor and gentlemanly manners. Besides, you told me you cook.”

“I did at one time. I once loved to cook. And I did it well, if I do say so myself.”

“In addition to that, you wanted to marry me. You were not a jock who was all full of yourself. Of the fifteen qualities I wanted in a husband, you were all of them and more.”

“You are sweet to tell me those things.”

“I’ve been saying them for nearly 40 years. Don’t act as if you are surprised.”

“Surprised? No, I am grateful.”

“I am the one who is grateful, and I thank God for you and your devotion to me and our children.”

“Really?”

“Don’t let that go to your head. I am not thankful for some ways ADHD manifests itself through your actions.”

He moaned. “Don’t go there.”

“Of course, I won’t. If I ever got started, I might not stop. Besides, I make it a habit to build you up, not tear you down or add to your self-abasement. But back to being thankful, we’ve shared many wonderful experiences and a few that were very sad.”

“Now that you mention it, I was thinking of our first Thanksgiving as a married couple. It was less than a week after we buried my Mother. I don’t know how I would have gotten through that day without you.”

“That was a horrible week! I felt so sorry for your Grandmother and Grandfather when they hosted Thanksgiving Dinner that year. They are another reason I am thankful for you; you gave me grandparents. I never knew what that was like before.”

“Grandma and Grandpa loved you. They were surprised someone like you would choose to love me.”

I knew they were not surprised. They understood him and appreciated his strengths.

“I am thankful you taught me to loosen up a bit. I was quite serious about life when we married.”

“I’ve meant to talk to you about that.”

“Listen, smart-aleck. You have many times. Seriously, one of the advantages of living with your ADHD comes from the way it helped change my perspectives. Your way of thinking has rubbed off on me at times.”

“Would you do it again?”

“What? Marry you? Of course. It made living with you and having those three kids legal and moral. I wouldn’t want you to be married to another woman. That’s too much like your other Grandfather.”

We won’t go there, either.   

November and New Babies

 “Come back,” I called, “You must foam your hands before you go into the room.” 

I had to repeat it three times. “Come back here.”

Two days ago, Husband had nearly pushed me aside as he opened the door at the Birthing Center.

Finally he turned toward me in irritation. “Who says I have to?”

Accustomed to his ADHD oppositional defiance, I merely pointed to the many signs posted on the wall of the Center, and he reluctantly complied.

“I’ve got to meet Keaton and hold him,”  Husband called over his shoulder. His grandnephew was less than two hours old. “He’s three days shy of being born on his sister’s third birthday. I’m eager to see him and her with him.”

Oldest Daughter will celebrate her birthday a few days from now, and the births of these precious children bring back memories of her November birth.

We didn’t foam in and out in those days. Before we were allowed to hold our own baby, we had to open a handy wipe and wash our hands in front of the nurse. Can you believe it?

The night Oldest Daughter was born, Husband left me in the recovery room (things have changed a lot since then) and went straight to the receiving nursery. Soon he came back with her on his shoulder.

Naturally, I reached for my child, and he drew back with her.

“You carried her for nine months. I get to hold her,” he declared.

“But that’s my baby,” I protested.

“Mine, too,” he countered, and he continued to hang on to her tiny body.

The first morning after we came home from the hospital, I woke to find her crib empty, and in my panic ran to find her with her daddy.

Husband held her on his left arm with her feet securely tucked next to his chest. With his right hand, he guided his shaver over his face.

“She wanted to be with her daddy,” he said as I leaned against the door frame with relief and a little disbelief.

Seeing Husband with the new baby this week flooded my mind with memories of him with all three of our children.

“You are so good with babies,” I told him.

“I know,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m a natural with them.”

“You know I consciously comment on your strengths,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, what about it,” he quizzed.

“It keeps me from obsessing about the things you don’t do.”

“Like what?”

“Don’t get me started. Let’s just say that seeing how tender and sweet you are with babies counters the fact I have to remind you to clean out the cat box.”

“What does a cat box have to do with new babies?”

“Precisely,” I told him.

I could see he did not make the connection.  To use his maxim, I may need to use a fat crayon and Big Chief tablet to draw him an explanation.

Love and Respect

Last week, a woman I had just met asked an attention-grabbing comment about marriage. “Have you noticed that many women spend a great deal of effort loving their husbands who in turn show respectful consideration to their wives?”

I had to admit I had not thought of it in that manner, but as she further explained, I could see where she came from on her comments.

“Women do all types of things to show their devotion and affection for their husbands. They serve their men with love by doing for them. A wife may cook his favorite meal, make certain his clothes are ready for work or social occasions, plan activities with his family. She does this because she wants him to know she loves him above all else.”

“Are you saying you think such loving behavior is inappropriate or even unbiblical ?”

“No, but I am saying that when it comes to biblical direction, our culture may have it backwards.” She replied.

She and I had been talking about the biblical passage Ephesians 5:33: But every husband must love his wife as he loves himself, and wives should respect their husbands.

“Think about what this is telling us. We know each wife has a deep need to feel loved, and she needs for her husband to demonstrate that love in ways that are meaningful to her,” she continued.

I like the translation that say a man should love his wife as much as he does his own body,” I laughed. “It seldom seems to happen that way. I believe my husband loves me, but he loves himself more than he does me. I thought it was part of the ADHD thing.”

“It could be, but does he think he shows love to you?”

With thoughtful contemplation, I admitted, “He thinks it is enough to say he loves me and to do little things for me that he likes to do.”

Then she asked, “Do you respect your husband?”

“I make it a point to show respect even when it is difficult to feel it deep inside. I know he needs it. It’s important I consult him on most issues dealing with the family and management of our home. I ask his opinion and do my best to follow through with his desires. Sometimes is it a willful decision to do this because he has not always been that considerate of me. He also likes for me to praise him and brag on his talents.” After a brief pause I continued: “I also keep step with him when we walk together. It may sound funny, but I purposefully match my steps to his.”

I mindfully remembered past his past decisions that centered-around what he wanted and what he thought was best for him. He was not considerate of me, and he knew it. For that reason, he would hide those decisions from me.

“I can see where this information would benefit the couples where one is a person with ADHD. The man with ADHD should set goals for learning how to make his wife feel loved. The woman with ADHD should set goals to respect as well as love for her husband,” I remarked while my mind chased after ways I wish Husband had showed love for me in our early years together.

“I can’t go there,” I thought. “The significance of this conversation lies in how well I can go forward with the future.”

Instead I said, “For me, the term respect means holding Husband in high regard and valuing his presence and comments. He comes first before any other person I know, even our grown children.”

My new acquaintance continued, “I want to recommend a book by Dr. Emerson Eggerichs, Love & Respect: The Love She Most Desires; The Respect He Desperately Needs.  Dr. Eggerichs talks about how to make a good marriage even better. “

She said it is a book that helps couples communicate better. However, today at lunch, I asked Husband what the word respect means to him.

“If you lose it, it is something that is difficult to get back.”

“But do you think I respect you?”

“Sure,” he said. “You tell me you love me and ask me to go places with you.”

Hmmm, I think we need to work on communication.

 

 

 

 

Messy Desk Boys

I once heard a lady with ADHD describe her messy purse, and it reminded me of the term “a messy-purse girl.” I don’t think it requires description. Likely you already have a mental picture.

 “Hump,”  I say. “It isn’t just females who live within the walls of clutter and messiness. I remember the boys in school with perpetually messy desks.”

Do you remember the ones who had to clean out their desks once per month? Remember how they would find all sorts of treasures from missing homework and pencils to baseball cards and of course, the latest missing library book?

“Be careful,” Husband says as we both turn toward his desk in our home office. “I resemble that remark.”

Yep, he’s right about that. Even these days, piles of papers and envelopes lay scattered in some form of organization across the top of his rather large desk.

They’re not totally unorganized, but they are not orderly or laid out in an easy-to-find arrangement.

“Don’t touch the things on my desk. I won’t be able to find what I need if you do,” he tells me.

“Find?” I ask incredulously as I look at the collection of hodge-podge items such as address labels from magazines and other items waiting for the shredder, marketing and sales materials, brochures, bills and the envelopes they came in, a candy wrapper, and this year’s Christmas photo from his nephew.

He just does not keep items in a certain order. Why doesn’t he try standard organization tactics such as color-coded files or three-ring binder?

“Athalene,” he has said to me in his firm and authoritative voice. “I don’t know why I organize like this. If I knew how to keep it neat and tidy, I would do so.”

So am I to assume his clutter is due to a lack of knowing? Does he fail to keep it tidy because it is beyond his skill set?

I think not. In fact, I imagine his desk and his way of organizing represent the way things are arranged in his mind with non-sequential groupings and order that is reasonably logical to him.

Professional organizers say that individuals should organize their space in a way that correlates with how they live in that space. Not all people organize in the same way, and for it to be more practical, each person should use his or her space in a unique way and how he or she wants it to function.

“They” don’t have to walk past Husband’s desk several times a day, or wish for less clutter in their homes.

I am not as dull-witted as I may look. As a matter of fact, I am wise enough not to wade into his messiness and begin throwing out his effects. One day, I even helped him purge. He decided what to keep and throw, and I did the actual work.

I once shared with Husband, “Organization Guru, Julie Morgenstern, recommends what she calls the “Kindergarten Classroom” method for organizing. Divide the space or room into activity zones. Focus on one activity at a time.  Store items at their point of use.  Put things away in the new homes you have created for them. Use colors or other visuals to help you remember the different zones. Do you think you might like to use that idea?”

He stared me squarely in the eye. With one hand on his head, and the other resting on the opposite hip, he sang, “I’m a little teapot.”   I got his message.

 

 

 

Mindful Frustration

Just now I completed writing about why the child with ADHD has problems making friends. Given that they are often impulsive, fail to follow through, and miss social cues, their peers get frustrated and irritated trying to interact with them.

At times, so do spouses of adults with ADHD get perturbed or exasperated. As my mother-in-law warned me many years ago, innuendos are not forms of communication with the person with ADHD.

My writing led me to think of Mindfulness. Many topics tend to lead me in that direction these days.

For instance, Saturday was to be a day in my resting regime; I had scheduled it as a sabbath time for renewal and refreshment. It didn’t begin that way, and it continued not to be that way for the greater part of the day. I started it by running a promised errand for another family member. Then, in order for my daughter to wash her clothes, I tidied the laundry area.

Husband stayed in bed until 10 A.M., and he only got up then because I finally announced the time.

He watched TV most of the day while I watched the floor that needed vacuumed and the other floors that needed steam mopped.

I made comments about these chores, but he did not respond.

Finally I was more direct. “Will you clean the cat box?”  I did ask politely. Even though it is his regular responsibility, he didn’t answer, but eventually the offensive elements in the box disappeared.

However, a mound of litter laid on the bathroom floor next the box and spilled onto the carpet in the adjoining room.

“He always ignores this,” I mumbled under my breath along with several other criticisms of how he does not complete chores. Sacrificially I cleaned the floor and carpet as I muttered about filthiness and learned laziness.

Accept my word for it, there was much more that he could have been doing around the house. It isn’t necessary for you to hear about the long list of ignored chores and incomplete tasks that assailed my senses.

What good would it do? I have lived within this scenario for nearly 40 years. Besides, I am really practiced at feeling sorry for myself.  The resentment continued to build. Sure, I made a few comments to him, but he literally didn’t get it. This was stress that did not affect me in a good way.

Finally I exploded in frustration. That got his attention. He thought I was threatening to commit suicide. Suicide?  Assault and battery, maybe. Physical attack, possibly. But it wasn’t me I wanted to hurt.

It was at that moment I thought of Mindfulness. I became aware of the moment and the thoughts and feelings flooding my reasoning. Mindfulness allowed me to notice them as they were, without judging the experience. I was simply aware I should get away from the situation and leave the house for a while.

I grabbed my tanning supplies and headed for the salon. I was mindful I should do something good for myself that allowed peace and quiet away from the sights of endless tasks and chores.

As I lay quietly alone on the tanning bed, I focused my thoughts on meditation, or as we say in Christian vocabulary, on prayer. I was aware of God’s Presence in and with me, of my need to accept responsibility for my own thoughts and reactions, and aware that Husband is not the only person who contributed to my frustration. I meditated on God’s ability and willingness to help me overcome my selfishness and to name it as such, and I meditated on my responsibility to apologize and ask forgiveness.

I know this sound countercultural, but it is my mindful meditation, and it works for me.

When I got home, chores and tasks remained undone. I could still see them, but I came back with a different perspective. Prayer and meditation cleared the chalkboard of my mind and changed the dynamics of my reactions.

Communication Social Skills

Nearly 30 years ago our family learned sign language in order to communicate with a neighbor’s child. It has proven to be one of the best skills we have enjoyed as a family.  A variety of sign languages are used throughout the United States, and sign language can be considered the fourth most used language in our country, especially when talking about American Sign Language. One of the neatest aspects of knowing sign language is how to use body, space, manual expression, and facial expression.

Husband uses sign language quite beautifully, and for many years served as an interpreter to deaf members of our church congregation.

Our family uses it when we cannot talk in church or other places such as school meetings when we poked fun among ourselves at a school board member/mother in our community. No, don’t feel sorry for her. She was offensive to many people in our school community; we just had the means to talk about her behind her back in front of her face.

Call it tension release.

Yesterday we had another great opportunity for tension release, only this time it was another customer in the hair salon where we go for haircuts.

Our stylist cut Husband’s hair before starting in on me. We were the only ones in the salon expect for another stylist who was waiting for her next customer.

When he bounded through the door, we all knew it. He came with his slightly self-focused smile, a head-full of bushy curls, and his loud voice.

I happened to turn toward where Husband sat waiting for me and asked “ADHD?” in sign language.

With squinted eyes, Husband watched the new customer closely for a while without making a comment.

Customer said, “Yes, it has gotten long and curly. She wants you to take it to a fall-weather cut. Trim this part of my beard. She wants me to have a goatee.”

Within two minutes we heard about the impending anniversary celebration and the party their grown children planned for them.  OK. We had no problem with that conversation, although it was a bit loud.

In answer to his stylist’s question, Customer soon said, “We are also going to New Orleans to the French Quarter. She has never been there. I have many times because my brother is a performer, and he has often done shows in the French Quarter. I flew down to be with him there several times.”

We learned more about his brother. “He travels all over the USA, but his home is in California. He is 66 years old, but he still has to work. Well, you can imagine how it is to own a business such as that.”

I had turned several times to observe Husband’s face. He continued to squint. He still had not answered my question.

Customer had not stopped talking about She and about the impending celebration and of course, his brother. Husband still had not answered my question.

Customer continued, “Yeah, I told my brother about this trip, and he is happy for us. He offered to meet us there. That was a neat suggestion.”

I looked over at Husband who crossed his arms.  He made a fist with his left hand and swiped across it with his right palm. Then he circled the tip of his nose with the right fist. My stylist saw us. “I see you are talking? What did he just say?”

“Full of shit,” I replied. Tony burst out laughing.

Without taking much breath, Customer said, “So I mentioned it to her. The idea didn’t go over very well, actually. She said that she does not want my brother along with us while we are there to celebrate our anniversary.”

He was quite for a few thoughtful moments before continuing. “Usually I stay with his group when I go because the cost of hotels in New Orleans is really expensive. Anything over $100 per night is too much. I am only there to bathe and sleep. She made the reservations for this trip. I told her not to tell me how much the room will cost her.”

I glanced at Husband who laid his right arm on the left. With one hand he put up two fingers like bull horns. I began to laugh before he even wiggled the fingers of the other hand. So did Tony. “I can tell that one. Bullshit, right?”