I tapped on her door at 6:30am, opened the door, flicked on the light.
“Good morning, time to get up. It’s housekeeper day.”
Indecipherable grumbles.
An hour later, Hope emerges, pops her meds, grabs her lunch, and puts her water bottle in the backpack.
“Is your room housekeeper ready?”
I know some folks think “cleaning” before the housekeeper comes is ridiculous, but really, there’s some stuff that you need to do to maximize their usefulness. I’m not paying them to deal with Hurricane Hope’s room. The floor needs to be clear and the tops of the desk and dresser need to be reasonably tidy. If we leave sheets out, the housekeepers will change our linens. All dishes need to be in the kitchen, and personal stuff in the bathroom needs to be put away.
Hope put down her stuff and headed to her room where she spent 10 minutes tidying up while grumbling. This meant she missed the bus.
All preventable, but whatever.
I head out to the office; Hope texts me:
Then she got on the wrong bus, because the world is petty.
She was fine by the time I got home and moody again 90 minutes later.
OMG. What is it with teenagers?
Is it the water? Is it just the rite of passage? Is it just the misery of middle teen years? Hormones? Bitchiness? WTH? And it just doesn’t stop. Every time I tap on her door, I wonder what version of Hope will answer.
The day after the housekeeper drama, she drags in the morning and once again misses the bus. I run into her on my way to the gym. She reveals that she missed the bus, lost her bus pass for the public bus and apparently doesn’t spend her own money on the public bus.
I continue to head to the gym for my workout because this is just so ridiculous and so routine I have a case of the “cannot-right-nows.” When I return Hope is still home, still supposedly looking for her pass.
Check it: she still has a $5 Walmart gift card in her wallet from 3 years ago, but she can’t keep the bus pass that is essentially her ticket to independence and freedom. Yeah, you can unpack all the, “maybe she doesn’t really want independence and freedom” hooey, but on the real, I cannot-right-now. I just can’t.
I implement consequences for not keeping up with her stuff, which will stay in place until she either finds her pass or acquires another one. I bark, “Get in the car,” and cart her off to school
And that’s it; no more rides to school unless I’m truly feeling benevolent. There is zero reason she can’t catch the bus. Yes, yes, inattentive, blah, blah, blah. I’m over it. She can ride that bike I just bought her with her new lock and helmet.
Have a good day, Miss.
May 10th, 2017 at 7:00 pm
I take my ADD meds when I wake up, like, usually without taking my head off the pillow. If you are already turning on the light to wake her up, could you bring her her meds, watch her take them, and THEN leave her on her own to get ready independently?
May 10th, 2017 at 10:19 pm
I could and with a fresh night of sleep I will consider it. *Maybe* 👍🏾 Thanks.
May 11th, 2017 at 2:17 am
I’m sorry, I’m living proof that impulse control is kind of a life-long struggle for people with ADD.
I always swear I’m only going to comment to tell you what a great mom you are and then I’m sharing my ~~ magical~~ ADD tricks.
You are a great mom. I admire you.
May 11th, 2017 at 5:06 am
The tips are helpful, keep them coming. Thanks!
May 10th, 2017 at 7:05 pm
I sooooooo feel you here. OMG it is like every stinking day we go through this times 2. M2 is good about getting going. Yep natural and logical consequences, its not winter she can ride.