Creativity with a Dash of Magic

For my last week of Neighborhood Fridays, I give you Dee from The Argonne Chronicles -- a chronic "yes"-sayer (aren't we all?) and mom to a handsome young man who happens to have ADHD. I have enjoyed reading about her wanna-be-rocker husband and spirited young son, as well as the trials and tribulations of another over-committed mom. I hope you will, too.

Creativity with a Dash of Magic

The stereotype of a kid with ADHD is a boy running around wildly, maybe kicking holes in the wall, talking a mile a minute, and just too busy to sit and focus on anything. It's not a picture of creativity.

We need to change this idea.

A recent study confirms what many parents have known all along. Kids with ADHD may be a little harder to manage, but their creativity is off the charts. I know this is true in our house. Dylan is just about the most imaginative person I know. A simple walk becomes a whole story line. Last night he and I took our Siberian Husky, Nikki, for a walk and in no time, I was Dylan's horse Goldie (fortunately without him on my back) and we were traveling through the desert. I answered in (what I hoped was) my best impression of Mr. Ed. Not that he has any idea who Mr. Ed is.

Today we participated in the Scout Parade. The theme was magic, so Dylan was, of course, Harry Potter. Okay, so maybe that's not the most imaginative costume, but he was completely in character, yelling out "Expelliarmus" and riding his Firebolt broomstick.

I think the hardest part of having ADHD is that it's hard for these kids to translate their imagination into something that fits into academics. Education today does not leave a lot of room for self-expression. There is a huge focus on being able to complete a test and if you are good at that, you are considered smart. If you are not good at that, well, your intelligence is not, unfortunately, valued as highly.

I don't blame teachers or even the educational system. Schools are continually being asked to do more with less. How do you create a meaningful educational environment with more kids, but a smaller budget; more requirements, but less time?

We need creative ideas, but we don't value them.

There's a huge comparison going on between the U.S. and China. China's education system values test scores and getting the "right" answers. Despite the fact that our history is built on imagination and thinking outside the box, American education is leaning toward China's rote, only-one-answer-is-right kind of thinking. We are being short-sighted. We needed more than right answers to dream up the idea of going to the moon.

On my best days, I know that Dylan will do fine. While his grades are all over the map, he enjoys school. He thinks science is just about the coolest thing ever. He likes to read, even though he still doesn't choose to do it on his own. I don't know if his grades will ever reflect his ability (although I hope they will!), but so long as he keeps that spark, that interest in the world, that belief in magic and imagination, he'll do just fine.

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My Personal Road to Salvation

It's time for Amy's Neighborhood Fridays. Today's thought-provoking post comes from Amber at Making the Moments Count. She's currently healing from having her wisdom teeth extracted, so make sure you show her some love.

My Personal Road to Salvation

Many individuals in history have risen from humble beginnings. Generally their success is measured by their riches and many admire, and envy, their new position of power and financial freedom.

I will admit to dreaming that one day my life would resemble these people I had heard so much about. However, as time progresses, I find myself idolizing those who made a significant impact on the world through their selfless service and abundant charity. People who, at great financial loss to themselves, have dedicated their lives to global change through their non-profit organizations and programs.

Ben and I are on a professional track that could lead to great wealth. We have the potential to pursue a medical occupation that would leave us very well off and enable us to do many things --potentially wonderfully humanitarian things; however, neither of us desires this outcome.

When Ben first chose medical school I will confess that the knowledge of one day living in great comfort was appealing even though I knew the difficult demands that his career would place on our marriage and family. But the closer we get to starting medical school, and the more globally aware I become, the more uncomfortable I feel about pining away for ease when so much of the world's population lives in extreme poverty.

Most of my thinking evolves around my Christian upbringing: How can I, an acclaimed believer and follower of Christ, forsake my fellow women and men by lusting after riches?

In the end, Ben and I have concluded that combining our intellect and skills will help people significantly more than pursuing extravagant wealth. Our combined goals have turned into a collaborative dream of opening our own not-for-profit health clinic -- Ben overseeing the medical side and me overseeing the mental health side (once I obtain my Ph.D.) -- catering to the minority and poverty stricken populations.

Obtaining wealth is not inherently evil. Billionaire philanthropists, such as Bill Gates and Warren Buffet, have relieved the suffering of millions. However, I recognized that my personal ambition to attain wealth wasn't entirely wholesome. I feel that I can personally make a bigger difference in the world by using my God-given talents.

This journey has opened my heart to the immense suffering that exists among mankind. It is my hope that through our combined occupations Ben and I can provide a catalyst to change by encouraging our children to follow our path.

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Choose My Own Adventure

It's time for Amy's Neighborhood Fridays. Today's beautiful and haunting post comes from the talented Stacia at Fluffy Bunnies. If you aren't reading her blog, I can't describe what you're missing out on. Here's a sample:

Choose My Own Adventure: The Prologue

Three weeks.

In three weeks, my husband will board a plane and fly to Romania. He'll work there for two months. While he's gone, he'll find us a house and a car. He'll figure out where to buy groceries and how to get peanut butter. He'll shop around for preschools and pediatricians. He'll also celebrate his birthday. Our anniversary. Our baby's first birthday.

I'll celebrate, too. Here. With our three kids. Without him. We'll Skype, we'll chat, and we'll e-mail. It won't be quite the same, but it's only temporary.

Because in May, we'll join him. For a year.

++

I keep having this dream.

I'm with my children. At the circus, at a concert, at an amusement park. We're laughing and soaking it all in. Then, one of my kids is gone. Gone. Just like that.

I look everywhere. I am frantic. I scream. I beg people to help me.

Eventually, I find my child. He got distracted. Or she got carried away with the crowd. They are fine. I hug them and vow to never let go again. Only then do I let myself cry.

I wake up. And I'm really crying. Real tears, real fear, real relief. It all floods over me as I stare at the green light on the baby monitor or listen to the wind chimes tinkling on the porch.

I realize it's a dream. I know my children are cozied up in their beds with their favorite frazzled blankets and worn stuffed animals. I know they'll be knocking on my bedroom door in a few short hours, asking for bananas and Sesame Street.

I know everything is the same as it was before the dream. But I'm not.

++

How long is a year?

I keep asking myself, trying to assess how much to pack, what to leave behind, what we can live without and what we can't. I make and remake lists. I pack and unpack boxes. I send e-mails, ask questions, and search Google.

But I know I'm the only one who can answer that question: How long is a year?

It's 18 toothbrushes, 60 gallons of milk, and 26 boxes of waffles. It's 2 bottles of Children's Tylenol. It's 8 sets of sheets, 3 jackets each, and 32 haircuts. It's 12 glue sticks and 4 packs of crayons. It's 1,095 bedtime stories.

It's a visit from Mos Craciun instead of Santa Claus. It's weekend trips to Kiev and Warsaw and Dracula's Castle. It's sitting down to a dinner table piled high with sarmale and schnitzel and raising our glass of palinca with a hearty "Noroc!" It's a family vacation to Euro Disney.

And it's countless internal battles between my brave spirit and my anxious mind -- 365 exhilarating days waging war against 365 nightmarish nights. Which will prevail?

That's my adventure to choose.

How do you balance adventure and anxiety? What's your family's grandest adventure so far? And how did it show up in your dreams?

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How To Fuel A Whirling, Twirling Tornado

I am excited to offer you a great, tasty treat today -- it's The Kitchen Witch and she's offering delicious ideas for a quick, protein-packed breakfast. Go forth and enjoy!

How to Fuel a Whirling, Twirling Tornado

I'd like to introduce you to my first-born, Miss D. Otherwise known as "The Human Tornado." Miss D. is good at lots of things, especially making noise and wreaking havoc on anything within her vicinity.

I phone my mother every day at 4pm (yes, I just might have attachment issues), and as we're chatting, she'll hear the ruckus and racket in the background and say, "Good God, who is over there? The Green Bay Packers?"

And I will reply, "No, it's just Miss D."

Welcome to the world of ADHD. It's as full of twists and turns as Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.

When Miss D. hits the door after a full day of school -- a full day of reining in her jitters/jabbers -- that girl is rocket-powered and ready to par-tay, let me tell you. As you may suspect, late afternoons are a bit of a struggle. In fact, late afternoons are often cause for medicinal glasses of Chardonnay.

But do you know what's worse than late afternoons? Mornings. There are no medicinal glasses of wine to ease morning agony. Mornings in our house = Freakshow. Even when I'm organized enough to pack lunches, set out clothing, and put bowls on the table for morning cereal, I still can't seem to manage. No matter what I do, I'm scrambling and barking orders, and when I finally get her minxy butt on the school bus, I exhale and think, "Jesus. It's 8:30am and I. Am. Exhausted."

Mornings are particularly taxing because in the morning, Miss D. twirls. She twirls in the afternoons, too, but nothing compares to morning twirling activity. Morning twirling activity dominates all other things; she cannot get dressed, brush her teeth, be bothered to consume food. She's too busy twirling.

Twirling: (verb) The act of grabbing the nearest object (hopefully a pencil or marker and not a knife or pronged instrument) and waving it, in a hysterical whirl, while subsequently galloping around the house. Rinse. Repeat.

Twirling is exhausting. Twirling is the reason that I'm the blonde Stalin in the morning. Twirling is the reason that my child, my beautiful, spirited child, makes me dread mornings. And this sucks, right? I mean, who wants to be a crank and snap orders at their kid and rush-rush-rush to get out the door in the morning? That's not a way I want to start the day. It's not the way I want my kid to start the day.

I wish I had a solution -- a magic bullet for you -- but I don't. Truth: mornings are, and probably always will be, a cross to bear in my house.

What I have to offer you today is the Smoothie Solution. Even if you don't have a child with ADHD, smoothies are a great way to get protein, vitamins, and fruit into a child who is just too busy to eat in the morning. Another bonus? You can blend the smoothies the night before, store them in the refrigerator, and all you have to do (besides get clothes, sort socks, and brush defiant hair) in the morning is pour liquid energy into a glass.

If morning twirling has been particularly vigorous, you can even pour smoothies into a plastic cup, stick in a straw, and smile, heart bursting, as you wave goodbye.

***
All recipes attributed to Ellie Krieger, with some adaptations

Peach Pie Smoothie (serves 2)

1 cup milk
1 cup non-fat vanilla yogurt (I also use sugar free)
2 cups frozen unsweetened peaches
1-2 tablespoons honey
1/2 teaspoon vanilla or vanilla extract
Healthy pinch of cinnamon, nutmeg and ground ginger
I cup ice cubes

Put all ingredients in a blender and whirr until smooth.

***

Blueberry Blast Smoothie (serves 1)

1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup nonfat plain yogurt (I like Greek yogurt for this)
1 cup frozen unsweetened blueberries
2 teaspoons honey

Blend until smooth.

***

Peanut Butter Smoothie (serves 1)

1 ripe banana, peeled, sliced and frozen (y'all do freeze banana chunks, right? Smoothie awesomeness!)
1/2 cup milk (preferably non-fat)
1/4 cup plain nonfat yogurt
1 1/2 tablespoons creamy peanut butter

Guess what I'm gonna tell you to do? Blend until smooth. :)

***

Kelly, thanks for having me. You know how much I love you, and I'm honored to be here today. Whether you're an ADHD Mommy-Warrior, or a mom who dreads mornings because they're crazy (and let's face it, they always are), I hope you'll try these out. They've saved my blonde butt on many a morning.

Because, you know, a girl needs time to twirl.
_____________

Thanks for the ideas, Kitch -- and for being such a great neighbor! 

Share any other quickie breakfast ideas in the comments! (Um, and don't flame but we allow no Red 40 and only low sugar foods at breakfast on school days.)

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Time Away

This Friday's guest post comes from Christine at Coffees and Commutes, a woman who astounds and inspires me with her quest to understand herself and her place in this world. I'm happy to follow her journey and learn more about myself along the way.

Time Away

I’m headed out of town this weekend for a much needed weekend pow wow with some of my best girlfriends. We gather at this time every year at a fishing hole buried deep in the forests of rural Ontario to spend hours scrapbooking and laughing free from the responsibility of running our homes and tending to our children.

I left my oldest son for a weekend getaway when he 15 months; my second son when he was 11 months. I was gone only a couple of nights for each, but it was time away nonetheless. Since then I’ve had several child-free vacations with my husband, and many weekends away on my own.

When I leave, I do so without reservation. The break offers perspective and helps me feel renewed. But more importantly, my leaving offers my sons quality time alone with their father. It’s an opportunity for them to bond and to enjoy each other's company, without my interference or influence. They get to know each other better and are free to just be boys. Just as I deserve time away, so do they deserve time alone, together.

As mothers, we naturally love our children and feel responsible for their day-to-day well being. But sometimes I think it can be difficult to think beyond the intensity of emotion that surrounds this responsibility. I know it’s easy for me to get wrapped up believing that I’m the most important person in their life.

I automatically assume that I’m the only one who can provide the comfort and love they need. When they tumble and bump their head or scrape a knee, I swiftly scoop them out of their father’s arms. Isn’t it true that there is nothing better than the loving arms of a mother? But it’s injustice to my children, and my husband.

The reality is there will be times when I can’t be there, when they will need to find comfort on their own and rely on coping strategies that don’t involve me. That’s real life. That’s why I believe it’s good for them to receive love and care from others and for them to understand that there are other adults in their lives who they can rely on and trust. The more adults who make a difference in their lives, the richer my boys will be for it.

It’s true that there really is no substitute for a mother’s love. But that doesn’t mean they need only me every day. Time away from one another is healthy, for all of us. As much as it strengthens their bond with their father and others, so does it renew my ability to cope with the daily trials of motherhood. Whenever I travel, I come back missing them, wanting to see them, ready to enjoy them once again. I feel less frustrated and better able to cope.

That’s why I can enjoy time away without guilt.

Want to be a guest blogger? Shoot me an email and I'll get you in the lineup!  And if you're looking for more great around-the-neighborhood posts (including mine), hop over to Amy's.

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My 2 Cents

My nephew, known for his full head of curly dark red hair, decided to do the Delilah this afternoon by buzzing it all off.

Photo taken in the middle of a basketball game against
Javi. But this is about as excited as he gets. Welcome
to Age 15. I don't look forward to it!

Can you believe the difference? Too bad he hates getting his photo taken. I think he's incredibly handsome (and really, really tall though he doesn't look it sitting down).

Taken after a trip to the barber shop. He looks both older
and more youthful. I love the new look, but he's still
getting used to it. Somebody's growing up!

It's so nice to be able to see his face! The side benefit for him is he no longer has to worry about his frizzy fly-aways. (Doesn't a 15-year-old boy have enough to worry about?)

Since I obviously loving sharing my opinion on other people, go check out my guest post at The Mommy Mambo. Who doesn't want to tear apart the idiots they wind up sitting next to at any of the 800 school assemblies "good parents" are forced to attend?

***Linking this post to Wordful Wednesday***

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The Scoop on Blogging

Great news! For the next few weeks I'll be participating in the Won't You Be My Neighbor Series hosted by Amy at Never True Tales. That means every Friday I'll be posting somewhere else and my blog will showcase one of the awesome writers whose blogs I love.

To kick off the series, I'm proud to have Stephanie, mama to all the drama, from The Scoop on Poop. Today, as she nears her first blogoversary (and 40th birthday), Stephanie's sharing what she's learned about blogging -- and life -- over the past 12 months. Enjoy!

Lessons from the Blogosphere

I've been hanging around the blogosphere for about a year now, and well ... I question what I am doing. A LOT.

I am this huge attention freak. If I don't think anyone is interested in my blog/my writing etc. I tend to get down. This blogging thing is hard! Write what your readers will like ... don't write the dark stuff, no one wants to read it ... keep it short and simple, stick to the point ...

*Sigh*

What's a blogger to do?

I'll tell you what I've learned: Just write. You honestly can't please every single person every single time. This is just as true in the blogging world as it is in real life. If I tried to write to please everyone ... that would just be a mess. My blog would then become not mine.

And that isn't being real. Not to me or to my readers. The ones that really love you will come around and comment whether your post is pure hogwash or a gripping the edge of your seat thriller of a confession or just your mundane every day life.

You will make mistakes, and your reader count might go down. You will lose a follower here or there. It happens. It's not worth the tears in your coffee when your blog post sits all day without comments on it (or all weekend). You will still shed them, but just remember, that's just you being your typical drama queen self. ;)

So, just write. Write about your day, your life. Tell your stories. Add a box to subscribe by email. Check your feedburner when you need a boost. Just because people aren't tweeting about your posts doesn't mean people aren't reading them. I'd rather have a few regular comments than a bunch of random comments all the time anyway.

Self discovery, a boost of confidence, camaraderie with fellow bloggers, rediscovery of my talents...

This is what I have learned in my year of blogging. I have made good friends, I have made new friends, I have started writing again, and most of all?

I've discovered I am not alone.

Want to be a guest blogger? Shoot me an email and I'll get you in the lineup!  And if you're looking for more great around-the-neighborhood posts (including mine), hop over to Amy's.

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The learning life

I'm so excited to join in with some great bloggers to announce the launch of From The Monkey Bars, a blog for parents written by parents that tackles the good, the bad, and the crazy.

Each week, I'll offer tips and strategies for fun, creative learning experiences with your child whether you have a demanding and precocious toddler or a surly and inattentive grade schooler. And for kids whose ages fall outside of that bracket, I'll be sharing ideas straight from the experts, including homeschooling parents, traditional school teachers and administrators, folks who are trained to work with children who have special needs, and those whose creative genius should be shared.

And, of course, I'd love to share YOUR experiences, so let me know if you're interested in guest posting. Any ideas or experiences you have for creative learning are welcomed.

Now come on over and give us a big, hearty hello!

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This is his brain...

It's no secret that we give my son medication to manage his ADHD. Correction: The mountain man usually gives it to him because I am usually still asleep when he takes it during breakfast. Technical word: Usually.

We're pretty sure MM forgot to dole out the Vyvanse this morning. How do we know? Because it's Day 31 of school and we've received our first call from the teacher. (A new record!)

The bad news: All morning he has been extremely talkative, in and out of his seat, argumentative, disorganized, and forgetful. On a bathroom break, he and another child were kicking other boys' feet under the stalls. And then the final straw. While working in groups, the teacher looked over and saw Javier "dancing a jig" next to his desk. (Classic!)

The good news: He's been fantastic all year, his teacher said with surprise and frustration. This is a whole new side of him that she's never seen. I am more than ecstatic about that because it means we really are effectively managing his disorder. Also, it's pretty damn awesome that he was actually dancing without music (while staying next to his desk -- as though he couldn't stop the beat, but at least knew to keep it to himself).

Because we find it really hilarious, and to punish my MM for his forgetfulness, I present this video:


And, no, there will be no disciplinary action against the child for today's antics. He really can't help himself.

In similar news, I've been around the adhd/special needs neighborhood this week. If you're interested in that kind of stuff, I posted about our journey with medication on {a mom's view of adhd} yesterday. Today I posted at Living with Special Needs about bullying and labels. I'd love you to read it if you have time.

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Gone visitin'

I've hefted my baggage to two other wonderful blogs today.

#1. Anyone raising a child with ADHD or simply interested in hearing about my little inattentive and impulsive (but not very hyper) rugrat should head over to A Mom's View of ADHD where Penny regularly shares her experiences with and positive outlook on ADHD. Her site (and Facebook page) is fast becoming a go-to resource for parents struggling (or learning to love) ADHD.

#2. Over at The Scoop on Poop, I'm talking about those rugged years of the first child and the rigid measuring and comparing that come along with them. But don't worry, the whole point is how fantastic it is when you have your second (or third or fourth) baby and realize that nobody cares how quickly you get them off the pacifier or whether they potty trained before your neighbor's kid. Life won't wait for you to whip out your pen (or pull up your blogging platform) to record the good stuff -- you should just live it instead.

I hope you'll come say hi to me (and them)!

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Recognition

I've been called many things, but today takes the cake. I earned -- through some heavy lifting and fearful tears -- the Bad Mom of the Year award. Yep. Here's what the award was based on:


You can hold your applause, though I know I did good work. You see it, right? I mean, how could you not? It's the big ole goose egg sitting on her forehead. I did it to her. It was an accident, I promise! She was standing right behind me (without announcing her presence) when I slung my bag (containing my laptop) up on my shoulder. It clocked her straight in the head. The goose egg popped up immediately (or at least I think it did, it took several minutes to calm her down enough to let me look).

She's really upset with me. I mean like hot, if looks could kill, tell your teachers your mama knocked you out kind of upset. But I earned it, so I'm taking it like a woman.

Of course, the day's not all bad. With the horrible always comes some good. I've been given the "Scoop of the Week" award from Drama Mama! You'll have to go check out my mini-post there today and the guest post I'll be doing on Monday.


For the next couple of days I'll be working on convincing my daughter that I really didn't mean to hurt her, handling the CPS calls/visits that'll likely roll in, and trying to help the Mountain Man live through it all. You know he took it worse than all of us, right?

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