Slob Couture

My daughter has known since she was four that she is going to be a fashion designer. Believe it; I know her and I do. She will also be a top model, albeit under a different name -- a single, first name kind of thing, ala “Madonna” or “Cher”. And get this: she will model her own designs and no one will suspect that the top model and the world-class designer are one in the same.

At a very young age, she had already mastered dozens of ways to tie a bow, knot a scarf, bling out her Ts, paint her sneakers, put up, put down and put wave in her hair - anything that served to make a thing more beautiful, more stylish, more uniquely her.

Conversing With ADHD Parents

Parents want to talk about their kids. ( I offer this blog as exhibit A.) It’s probably the single biggest reason we so often drift away from our childless friends who, after all, have interests that encompass world events, social networks, work, travel and relationships. We gravitate to other parents with whom we can feign interest in one another’s boring kid stories until it’s our turn to talk. Stop it; you know it’s true. Our social networks are determined by our child’s grade and extracurricular activities;

The Experienced Couple

I'm going to be attending a wedding soon, between a couple of very good friends (actually, I'll be performing the ceremony *blush* but that's another story). It's naturally gotten me to thinking about my own marriage.

My spouse and I will shortly be celebrating our 26th anniversary. The 25th was supposed to have been a really big celebration and there was even talk of a cruise but, when the time came, we were trying to come up with the mortgage, one child had just started in a new school . . . It goes like that. I'm pretty sure we managed to exchange flowers from Trader Joe's but I can't swear to it. Okay, it was not memorable. But it was okay, you know?

Alphabet Boys

I have a kid with ADHD. Big deal. The truth is, I don't know anyone with a son that doesn't have ADHD. Or Aspergers. Or learning disabilities. Or SI disorders. They're all alphabet boys and a gathering of my son's friends is a tragi-comic buffet of twitching, fidgeting and shoe staring. All of it very loud.

What's going on? I've heard the argument that we're pathologizing normal boy behavior. (Actually, I've heard a host of sanctimonous arguments usually undertaken more for the pleasure of knowing better than someone who is already on the edge than to offer helpful insights. You know who you are; shut up.) Before having a child with ADHD, I am ashamed to say, I was one of those.