“If you can’t behave yourself then I’m not going to bring you to Costco again!”
I said these words, which wouldn’t have been such a big deal, except that I was saying them to my mother. She had already been scolded twice by the Costco sample ladies for trying to grab their food straight out of the microwave. “But I don’t want to wait for them to cut up the food. I’m in a hurry,” she whined. Even though we both knew we weren’t in a hurry at all.
My mother is a brilliant, opinionated, artistic, spiritual woman. She also has severe ADHD. When I think of ADHD I picture a third-grader who can’t sit still in class, not a grey-haired tornado of a lady. She is a very enthusiastic starter of projects. Not much of a finisher, though. Each day when I came home from school, the litter of her latest phase was everywhere: Sawdust and tools from building new kitchen cupboards from scratch; little bits of wax and silver covering every countertop during the jewelry-making phase; sheets of cork and leather when she decided she would be making her own shoes from now on. Don’t even get me started on the five-foot-tall hot tub or the giant flower-shaped lamps she welded. Mom would enjoy an invigorating day of creativity, then spend the afternoon napping, leaving her three children to clean up all of the messes.
For a long time I resented her selfish pursuits, her messiness and her complete lack of normalcy. (”Mom, if you’re going to pick me up for an orthodontist appointment can you please not come to school covered in wood shavings?” or “why can’t you just crochet or watch soaps like all the other moms?”) I used to sit in class fantasizing, not about cute boys, but about a quiet, sweet mother. She would be beautiful and stylishly dressed at all times (no bizarre homemade shoes, to be sure). She would be reserved and a good listener, not a noisy, brash know-it-all. Most of all, she would be still. Not always starting something. Not always distracted.
As I got older it helped to understand what adult ADHD means: The disorganization, the difficulty finishing tasks, the inability to follow directions, the impetuousness. Mostly I just try to think of her as a responsible eight-year-old. I don’t tend to be as judgmental or harsh that way. I can enjoy her zany exuberance a little better when I picture her as an enthusiastic child, not just a weird old lady.
This time of year, as Mother’s Day rolls around, I think about her and what it’s meant to have her as a mother. The roles seem to have changed and somehow I have become the mature, responsible one; the matriarch of the family. I’m now in my 30’s but the woman can still embarrass me in no time flat. Since I have become a mother, though, I have come to appreciate and cherish her ADHD as a gift to my children. She is the “fun grandma”. The one who doesn’t get tired of taking walks or giving piggybacks. The one who has an endless repertoire of fairy tales and Bible stories (spooky/funny/silly voices included). The one who will spend hours helping her grandchildren cut out and decorate homemade gingerbread. And when I walk into the kitchen and see flour and cinnamon and cookie cutters scattered on every single surface, I take a breath–a big breath–and notice only the smiles on everyone’s faces.
I love that last paragraph! That is wonderful! She is a blessing!
Your mom should have a blog.
Ooh–yes, a blog. I bet it would be a blast.
I really like your perspective on this. ADHD can be, well, you know how it can be. Wow.
This was very fun to read!
Your mom sounds like my favorite aunt. Of course she is my favorite; she is larger than life! The funny thing is I used to wish she were my mom. My mom is the opposite of her but wonderful in her own sweet, meek way. The grass is always greener, isn’t it? When she told me she was diagnosed with adult ADD just a few years ago, her comment was, “Explains a lot, huh?!” I could go on and on with stories about her, but I’m sure you have similar ones about your mom. I’m pretty sure my 10 year old son has ADD and I’m not sure what to do about it. I don’t think he is severe enough to need medication (his teachers have never complained about his behavior) but I worry about his disorganization and such affecting his academic life in middle school. He is very smart but just this year his grades started to suffer due to not turning things in on time and not being thorough or neat with work. If anyone has any great resources for behavioral helps I would appreciate it.
thanks for that little peek into your life!
put me on your fan club list!!
Oh I just love it. I have an Aunt like this. She’s so freaking cool. The funny/sad part is that it seems like socialization (and a mother hell bent on order) has made her self-conscious of her own creativity, it’s made her organize it in a way that feels a bit staid, gasp. And staid she is not. I wonder if she’s the poster child for ‘behavioral’ therapy (of which I’m extremely supportive), but if so, at what cost?
I love that while you recognize your mom’s shortcomings, you also show that you appreciate her awesome qualities too. Over the years, I’ve gone from idolizing my mom to demonizing my mom to finally trying to understand and accept her for what she is. Now that I’m a mom, and still in the stage of being adored by my daughters, I’m sort of scared for the stage to hit where they’ll hate me…. Your love for your mom really shows through in this post.
Ummm,
that is a great post!
The cycle of love-hate-love your mom I think is somewhat normal.
I have a mother who was embarrassing.
I became the embarrassing mother.
Now I am the greatest grandmother because I know how to have fun!
Some call these people weird.
I call them necessary in a world of so much structure and formality.
Hurray for the weirdo’s of the world
(like your mom and me).
Love them and you’ll get so much more in return than you ever imagined.
your mom sounds great, and next time I’LL take her to costco– i hate waiting for the samples to be done.
My mom has ADHD too and so I can totally relate to this post. Loved it!
Your mom sounds just like my mom. Same unexplainable urge to make everything from scratch. Same impulsive need to leave a dozen “half-used” paper towels around the kitchen. Same erratic inability to notice, let alone pick up, all of the fabric scraps from her latest homemade skirt/curtain combo. Your mom sounds just like my mom… Oh wait. Your mom is my mom. It’s good to hear that your not the only one who thinks mom is crazy in her own special way, and whose had to tame her down at Costco. I love you sis. Happy mother’s Day!
This post has haunted me all week. Painfully, because I am the unpredictable mother. I always thought of myself as a quirky noncomformist, but now that the schools are pushing back about my quirky nonconformist kids, the ADD label is getting throw around quite a bit. Of course I am self-conscious about my less-than-organized, impetuous ways, which I had previously thought of as bohemian, but now I wonder, to my children at what cost?
My own mother was/is very conscientious and organized. I was a trial to her, and I’ve wanted to be freer with my own children than she was able to be with me. Now I wonder if I actually benefited from the very uncomfortable socialization process, that I’m not really providing for my children.
I don’t eat any Costco samples at all. I prefer to eat food I made myself from scratch.
And, if I start taking some ADD amphetamine, maybe I could tell myself I’m doing it for off-label weight loss. Who knows, I could end up normal and beautiful.