Family, Life, Motherhood

My Daughter Has ADD.

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This piece is also being run today over today at Chicago Parent, where I am a contributor.

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My six-year-old daughter has ADD.


I said it.

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Those who are regular followers of my blog will probably shake their heads in agreement or at least in understanding.
I have journal’ed over the past four years, well the past three years really since that is when I started getting more real on my blog, about our struggles.
I used to write about crafts, DIY projects, and recipes primarily for the first year of blogging.
Then I let all of you in.
And I fell in love with all of you.
And I opened up.
Became real.
Sometimes too honest.

You were there when I told you about crying on the bathroom floor after my youngest would go to bed.
You were there when I told you a former friend wrote something devastatingly mean about me and my mothering on my blog.
You were there when I told you there were days that I asked God why? WHY?
Please. Give. Me. Strength.

Our youngest started behavioral therapy in 2012.
It helped.
A lot.
There was a light at the end of the tunnel.

Then she went to preschool and thrived.
It was at the end of the year when the teacher approached us and said that she felt that our daughter had some sort of a delay.
When asked to perform a task, she would stop, think and repeat what she was asked again.
And again.
That was my heart, by the way.

A different therapist was recommended,  an occupational therapist.
She told us that she is having trouble processing information more than a “normal” WHY DO THEY USE THAT TERM ANYMORE child her age would.

Went back to our old behavior therapist.
Everything running smoothly.
I worked with her all summer on numbers, letters and colors and basic preparation for school.
Things are looking up!

Kindergarten starts.
Horrible first two weeks.
Adjusting, crying, struggling.

Two weeks in, it is suggested by her kindergarten teacher that it is recommended she be enrolled in an extended reading program.
That out of the 26 letters of the alphabet, she only recognized four in a fast-paced quiz.
In the hallway.
Of the school she is frightened of.
On week one.

At therapy in November, the therapist recommends that we get her a Neuro-Psych Evaluation.
That it will narrow out everything.
And we will finally have a definitive answer after five years of struggle, tears, fear, frustration.

Then we have a conference with the teacher a few weeks later.
Our daughter is doing well in kindergarten.
She is adjusted, learning, and knows every one of those letters and numbers.
But she is struggling as well.
She can’t stay focused as long as the other kids.
She gets up and sits on the rug after too much learning.
She can’t get organized as fast.

After two months of evaluation with an amazing psychologist, we got an answer on Wednesday, February 26th, 2014.
Our daughter has ADD.
Attention Deficit Disorder.

Honestly, the husband and I weren’t surprised.
But it was the realization.
The words.
The label.

Our daughter will be affected by this for the rest of her life.
She will always have ADD.
She will always have to manage it.
She will have to work harder than the average “normal” child to get an A on a test.
She will always have to learn to control her emotions, her reactions.

And I don’t care what any one says, I feel guilty.
You can tell me up, down and side ways that it isn’t my fault.
I will still feel that way.
I am her mom.
It is inside my body that she lay for nine months.
What happened?
Did I take a Tylenol too many for the migraines I had?
Was I too stressed out during my pregnancy?

I want to protect her.
Shield her.
From the mean.
The judgemental.
The holier than thou.
They are out there.
We are already seeing it.

But we are already seeing amazing sources of support and help.
Her teachers are my heroes.
They are so excited for her when she thrives, it makes me want to cry.
When I was in the classroom helping out in January, the teacher told me as her eyes lit up how amazing Ella is doing now.
It made my heart soar.

I know she won’t always have these amazing teachers but I hope if they see how fierce we are about our daughter succeeding that it will be contagious.
I want her to not only do well and thrive, I want her to OWN THAT SCHOOL.
I want her to set the world on fire, in a good way.
I want her to do whatever she wants and to never be told No, You Can’t Do That.

I am grateful my child is healthy, she has a roof over her head, she has a family that loves her dearly.
She is the lucky one.
ADD will not define my daughter.
And I cannot wait to see what she does with her forever.
I know it will be amazing.


8 thoughts on “My Daughter Has ADD.”

  1. You are an amazing Mom!! We must talk soon and you must talk to my husband. He was diagnosed with ADD as a child in the early 70's and has gone thru many trials in life because of it. But he is also amazing in so many ways as there are advantages to having it too over other people. Number one recommendation though is yoga. If you do that with her…it will help. Again we will talk soon!!


    1. Oh Wendy, I would LOVE to pick his brain quite literally.I will try anything at this point and she loves to move and "exercise" with me so she may be up for it. Hugs.


  2. Mothers understand. I understand the guilt and sadness, Kari. I know you will do everything you possibly can to help Ella be the best she can be. Because a mother just does. Thank you for sharing this beautifully honest post. (BIG cyber HUG)


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