Shoe droppings

It's a good shoe day on Heather Ridge Court

Translation: there are only four pairs of shoes sitting around the house, tossed exactly where I stepped out of them when I walked through the room, a "shoe dropping" event.

Which room? Could be any room. Prime shoe dropping locations are the kitchen, where I come in from the garage (there's a special shoe catcher there, but it's already full so I use the floor); and right in front of "my" part of the sectional sofa where I park myself after a reeaaaaallly long day to zone out with a little TV.


But there are other locations, too. Shoe droppings can happen under my desks - I have three workstations - or on the stairs where I stash shoes with the honest intention of returning them to my closet. Truthfully, my closet is a prime shoe dropping arena -- I get them into the closet, but they stay on the floor, quickly covered up by piles of clothes I am sorting for the laundry.

The net result is the same: I can never find the pair of shoes I am looking for. And I am constantly scouting the house trying to get "those shoes" -- which then makes me late leaving...ah, the old "I'll never be on time" syndrome.

I've tried all kinds of systems to capture those naughty shoes and get them back into their boxes. And to a certain extent, they work. For instance, I leave most of my "good " shoes - those that I wear only occasionally - in their original boxes. I can keep them straight most of the time by memorizing the colors of the boxes, their location on the shelf, etc.

I tend to buy a lot of Enzo shoes, though, and the boxes look the same. I hate spending time READING the labels every time I want a pair of shoes, so I started scribbling a crayon of the color of the shoes on the outside of the box. I worked with an organizer who had me take pictures of all my shoes. The goal was to print the pictures and paste them on the boxes for easy identification. I still haven't gotten around to Step Two - printing the photos.

My often-worn shoes, like tennies and my all time favorite, Merrell clogs, I throw in wire baskets above the neatly stacked boxes. And, as I mentioned, I have a plastic basket for gardening shoes just inside the back door--it's full of slip on ragged tennis shoes that can be sacrified for paint and mud and other messy activities.

With such great organizing ideas, you'd think finding my shoes would be a snap. There's only one glitch in the mix: ME.

When I am in a hurry- and when am I NOT in a hurry? - I slip off my shoes wherever I am. And because of my ADD memory (or lack thereof), I instantly forget the shoes. After all, I am on a mission of another sort..and it doesn't involve shoes. Until I need to leave the house again.

I don't think there's a cure for the Shoe Dropping Disease (SDD). Occasionally I am diligent about putting my shoes away. Then I fall back into my normal habits again. I have learned to live with it. And I doubt that I'm the only ADD Woman with SDD. Ah, another alphabet soup disorder to add to my collection. You gotta love it!

A year with less chaos

Honestly, I hate New Year's resolutions.

I know from long experience that I have no reasonable expectation of KEEPING them. It's my ADD-ism at play.

But this year - without a lot of fanfare and hoopla - I decided I wanted my life to be calmer and less out of control. I wanted some routine (yuck) in my daily existence that would validate the admonitions I give my clients and retreat participants: take care of YOU first, so you can take care of other people/things/situations.

So...to that end, I want to:

Exercise five days a week

Eat better food that soothes and nurtures my physical body

Take time each day to sit quietly or walk the labyrinth or read inspiring passages to soothe my soulful body.

Get help: for the housework that falls behind, for the website that is never done, for the adminstrative tasks that snag me, for the errands and garden chores and bill sorting and office cleaning. I need help to FREE me from myself. This year I'm getting it.

Spend time with the people who are important to me - in turn, but all of them. Family, friends, pets, email correspondents. I love em all. This year they will know it.

Have more fun; laugh more; play more; get away from the computer more.

BE ME. Without apology or guilt. It's enough. But I forget that.

Well, OK. I guess now I am committed to this list.

I will forgive myself for falling off the intention wagon. I'm not so good at keeping promises - not because I don't want to but because I forget where I'm going.

This year, I wanna remember. A wise friend gave me a page with these words printed on it:

"Discipline is remembering what you want."

I will remember. I've made my intention public.

No pressure. Just reminders...thanks for listening.

My daugher is 27, has ADD and flunked out of college

Dear ADDiva,
My daughter is 27 and has ADD. She flunked out of college - twice. She was living with us until just a few months ago when we found her an apartment. But now we're paying the rent. She's had one bad relationship after another one and the guy she's with now is not good either. Even though she's brilliant, she got fired from one job and now is working as a part time receptionist. She says she wants to go back to school but is afraid of failing again. And we're at the end of our rope financially trying to help her. But I won't give up on her. I'm looking for something - anything that will turn her life around. We are desperate.

Worried Mom

Dear Worried,
I hear how much you love your daughter and how hard it is for you to see her go through so much pain and heartache. Thank you for hanging in there with your daughter - she's lucky to have you on her team. But there is a limit to how much parents can do for their adult child with ADD.

I get calls regularly from parents who want to solve the problem for their children. In fact, I've made those calls myself - hired a coach for my ADD son, paid for the sessions, tried to stay out of the way and not pry into his progress or lack thereof. The coaching helped, but what helped more than anything was allowing HIM to step forward and find his own way.

The hardest thing to do is to watch your child stumble and fall. A parents' first instinct is to pick up their baby (and let's face it, at some level, our children are ALWAYS our babies) and comfort him or her and then make it all better. In other words, we want to FIX IT.

This is a dangerous precedent to set in your relationship - for a lot of reasons. First, it creates a false sense of security for your child -- that feeling of "whatever happens, mom and/or dad will save me." Clearly, that's not true. You might be a miracle worker, but you can't bend the law if your child breaks it. You can't go to work and do their job for him or her. You can't live in her skin. Not ever.

Which brings me to Number Two: dependency. It's OK for a seven-year-old to be dependent on her parents. She's not able to take care of her own needs in the world. At 27, however, dependency breeds one big ugly scar: Resentment with a capital R.

Adults don't like being told what to do - especially ADD adults. They like to feel that they are capable, resourceful and in charge of their own lives. When you constantly send the message to your adult child that they are making bad decisions or that they aren't living up to their potential, they tend to either 1) ignore you or 2) get angry with you. And in either case, they feel like a failure....AGAIN. And they will begin to resent you more exponentially. The harder you try, the less they want to "play," even though they know things aren't going well in their lives.

I know this is hard - almost as hard as watching the struggle - but the best thing you can do for your child is to support them no matter what.

I can hear your reaction already: "WHAT? I'm not going to just sit around and let her destroy her life. I'm supposed to tell her it's OK for her to take drugs or hang around with the wrong crowd? She's going to end up on the street, or worse, dead. I am not going to let that happen!"

Of course you don't want that to happen. You love her. She is a wonderous, amazing human being and the world would be less brilliant without her. BUT... until she wants to change her life, it simply won't change. It's literally the old "you can bring a horse to water but you can't make him drink" adage. Change happens from the inside out, not from the outside in. And you, dear Worried Mom, are on the outside.

So, should you just turn your back and cross your fingers. Not at all. There are still lots of things you can do...without fixing her.

1. Acknowledge and encourage her every time you see her.
Make it the FIRST thing you say to her..and maybe the last thing, too (and make sure that the conversation in between doesn't focus on the "bad stuff). Find something positive about what she's doing or saying or wearing or researching or eating or....you get the idea. You can find it--just keep looking. And this is not a compliment -- like "I like your dress." It's about HER as a person [ e.g. "I want to acknowledge you for your great sense of style. That dress is so flattering - you really know what looks good on you!" See the difference? The compliment is about the DRESS; the acknowledgment is about HER.

2. Support her no matter what
When parents focus on what their child is NOT doing or doing wrong/poorly, the message hits home over and over: "I'm not good enough. I can never do it right." Not only does that breed resentment (refer to #1), but it increases the sense of failure most ADD-ers harbour in their deepest, most secret place. Most ADD-ers try to hide the place of failure - from parents, employers, friends, partners and most of all, parents. My son is 28 and hasn't found his place in the world yet. One day I told him that I knew he'd get there when the time was right. His voice cracked as he said, "Thanks, Mom. I'm so glad you're not giving up on me. I really need someone to believe in me." My heart broke, of course. I wanted to rush in and FIX IT. But I didn't. He's still figuring it out...and he will do it perfectly for his life.

3. Detach with love
We are so in a hurry to "make it all better" because it eases OUR discomfort. If the kids are OK, then we can go on with our own lives. The key word here is "detachment." Let her live her own life. If you are supporting her, paying the bills, ruining your own financial stability, STOP. Say something like this: "Honey, we love you so much and we want the best for you. But paying your bills is only a short term solution. We know you want to be self sufficient. So we're going to stop paying your rent. We'll do it gradually, so you aren't left out in the cold. Over the next four months, we'll pay $100 less toward your rent. By the end of June, you'll need to be making enough money to pay it yourself."

Now if you've been rescuing her for years, she probably won't appreciate your actions. She may even accuse you of not loving her. Don't get hooked. Tell her you trust her to make good decisions about her life and that you know she will do what is necessary to take good care of herself. She'll do it when she absolutely has to do it. Not a day before.

She may find a cheaper apartment. She may move in with the boyfriend you don't like. You have to let her make her mistakes by herself!

4. Let her ASK for your help
Remember the phrase "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread"? When you rush in to "save" your precious child, you are stealing the gift of innovation, creativity and problem solving from her.

So why not do it differently? Tell her you love her and that you are always there for her. Tell her that you are sure she will find terrific solutions to the issues that come up. And that if she needs your help, she needs ask for it. Otherwise you'll stay out of her life. Then DO IT.

You'll have to do this several times before she trusts that you mean what you say. Like the two-year-old she once was, she may test you. She'll do or tell you things that will cause you to bite your tongue so hard you think it will bleed.

But don't rush in like those fools of old. When she tells you her latest problems, say, "Wow, honey things are really rough for you right now. What's your next step in dealing with that?" DON'T tell her she screwed up again; and don't say "I'll take care of it." Let HER take care of it - without extra guilt. Believe me, she feels bad enough about herself already.

If she asks for help, don't overwhelm her with choices. Just a couple of ideas will suffice. And make sure those options are presented as neutral choices -- not laden with guilt or "should," "oughta" and "have to." You are responsible only for assistance not for implementing the assistance.

For instance, if she moves into another apartment and ASKS for help, bring the truck, move the stuff to her aparment and LEAVE. Let her unpack the dishes and put away the clothes. That's what big people do, ADD or not.

Finally, be gentle with yourself. You are all doing the best you can given the circumstances. Life isn't easy, but it is fun and exciting. Hold this as part of the grand learning curve that you get to create each day. And know that whatever happens, it's all for the good of everyone concerned -- although we may not think so at the time. When ADD is present, it gives parents a chance to look at who they are in the face of their child's issues and it gives the ADD child a chance to come fully into themself using their innate talents and gifts.

ADD, the mail, identity theft

Whew - talk about three absolutely incongruent topics!

Let's be candid: even the terms "ADD" and "Mail" are difficult to get out in the same breath (note I did not say "male"). Sorting is not one of our strong points. And that's what dealing with mail is all about. Heck, they even have a job description at the USPS that has the word "sorter" in it! I'm sure it is not filled by someone with ADD -- unless they have a strong dose of OCD thrown in (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder for those who have forgotten their alphabet soup definitions).

So when you throw in protecting your identity - locked mailboxes, dropping outgoing mail at the post office instead of your home mailbox, shredding anything with your name and address - well that's tantamount to treason. And a recipe for yet another ... failure.

Let's fix part of that right now, OK? Shredding 101.

I have a coaching client who lets the mail pile up - literally. Even when he manages to sort it out, there's a pile of junk mail that needs opening and shredding, but who wants to stop and shred a huge pile of mail that never should have made an appearance in your mailbox to begin with? It's like a conspiracy that sneaks in to steal our precious time...ah, I hear a tirade coming on. Better stick with shredding.

Here's a simple solution. First - buy a decent shredder, one that will chew up layers of paper without choking (even better if it eats plastic credit cards and CDs).

Second, stick it in a place that is either: right next to the recycling bin that receives the no-need-to-shred envelopes, papers, etc. OR in an easily accessible location in your office.

Third, leave the shredder plugged in and turned on ALL THE TIME. You will not waste much electricity and it will not wear out the shredder - most of the wear and tear on the electrical components comes from turning it on and off.

Then, when you sort the mail simply feed the shredder as you go. If the shredder is in another room, make a stack (aka pile) of shreddables, take it with you before you go on to another task, and you're D-O-N-E (my favorite four letter word) and protected. Ta-da!

Now...where's that shredder going to live? OK, where do you FIND that shredder? Or...do you have to BUY a shredder? Put it on the To-Do list! Now that's another topic for the ADDiva!

Why ask the ADDiva?

If you take a look at my bio (which, by the way, appears on ALL my blogs, not just the ADD blogs), it's a textbook description of ADD. I bounce around from one interesting thing to another, loving them all.

I'm reading a book about ADD and relationships ("ADD and Romance" by Jonathan Scott Halverstadt) which has reminded me that pushing "too many" things into my life is all about creating the stimulation my ADD brain needs. I do a lot of things. I create a lot of blogs -- this is Number Six. I definitely have the ADD diagnosis.

The Diva part? It just sounds good with ADD. My ex-husband would tell you I AM part diva, but I disagree. I've learned to be myself without the diva-ish drama. Most of the time.

So, by combining my life and ADD coaching training with my own life experience of ADD, I came up with Ask the ADDiva. It's a collection of short answers - I'll do my best to be brief - to common issues that come up for adult ADD-ers (see how I interrupt myself even in print? Weird).

If you have a particular question related to adult ADD, send it to me via this post (you can add comments/questions at the end of any post and I'll get them via email).

If you don't send questions, I'll make them up. Hey, I believe in honesty even if it hurts. Anyway, I have lots of questions myself. But can I answer my own questions? Stay tuned to find out...

Think Once

About 10 years ago, when my advertising agency was operating at full tilt, I often made decisions that had long-term implications about the efficiency of the company. How to get all the computers to sync their calendar data on the network, for instance. Or the most effective way to manage project timelines.

I would play with a variety of scenarios in my head or on paper, eventually coming up with a “best” solution. Then we’d implement the plan and it would become part of the Standard Operating Procedure for my company.

Those tortured decisions were like diving into a vat of endless possibility for me. On one hand, I loved playing with options. On the other, I needed them to work immediately and without a lot of confusion. I began to tell my employees that I wanted to “THINK ONCE really hard and then not think again.”

It’s a philosophy that I now recognize as one of my main coping mechanisms for ADD. I’ve used it to buy clothes, to change careers, to deal with my kids’ homework, to keep the house semi-organized. I think I’ve figured out why it has worked for me.

As an ADD Woman, I am constantly distracted by interesting tidbits -- and virtually everything is interesting to me except professional football and ironing. But the basics of my life, like brushing my teeth, taking a shower, or feeding the dog and cat, are done on autopilot. I don’t think about them too much. I just do them. Most of the time.

Perhaps once upon a time there was a tortured thinking session when I made the decision to brush before breakfast instead of after (as my husband does), but it’s been long forgotten. Now, I brush and go on to the next interesting thing. Brushing teeth became part of the Standard Operating Procedure (SOP) I’ve developed for my life.

My Standard Operating Procedure allows me to “not think” about some daily essentials so that my ADD mind can race around looking for the stimulating things that arise miraculously in each moment. All the time I’m brushing my teeth, for instance, my mind is whirling over to the retreat house wondering if I can get the garage painted in time for the next retreat and then to the grocery store to buy some more toothpaste….and on and on. I finish brushing and I’m off to the next thing. If it’s SOP, I get to keep dreaming about the interesting stuff; if it’s not, I get to DO the interesting stuff.

One variation of “Think Once” is “Shop Hard.” When I buy clothes, I am plunged into an ADD nightmare: dozens of racks of clothing in a massive space that is new and colorful and overwhelming.

Then comes the sorting out process. Do I like the style? Do I like the color/does the color look good on me/do I need anything else in this color? Is the fabric is too scratchy? Is the neckline too tight? Are the pant legs long enough? My criterion for clothing is that it doesn’t distract me while I am wearing it. That eliminates anything “fussy” like scarves or jewelry or French cuffs.

Whew! To end up in my closet, a piece of clothing has to clear a lot of hurdles. But after I ‘Think Once, really, really hard” then I can take the clothes home, and grab something from my closet without thinking, knowing that it will be OK for me to wear in public. I have already done the thinking: now I can let it go and let my brain focus on the OTHER ten million things it juggles.

Jack Canfield talks about having a finite number of “attention units” which we use each day. My “Think Once” strategy sucks up all my attention units when I’m in the “thinking phase,” but ultimately it frees me to give attention to things that are a lot more interesting than brushing teeth and shopping for clothes.

I honestly don't know how linear folks stay on track. But I've learned to "Think Once" and never look back.

Declutter dilemma

I thought seriously about uploading a "before" and "after" photo of my clutter cleanup. Then I thought better of it. Why revisit that humilitation again? Why not enjoy the clean, calmness of my desk, my freshly-made bed, my bathroom sink and vanity, now one smooth plane of pseudo-marble?

Well, although I adore the new look -- have worked hard (for months) to make it so -- I am finding that things look a little...dull. Lifeless even. Sterile and bland. And those are not words I use about myself. Ever.

Suddenly it feels a little creepy to be so clean and organized. Like it isn't my house any longer. Perhaps someone has crept in during the night (or more accurately, the last four months) and silently, stealthily cleaned my house and put things away. Where I will NEVER find them. Oh dastardly organizer!

Actually, it's true. I have been working with a professional organizer, much to my embarrassment. Why couldn't I do this myself? I know how. I am a terrific organizer. I love to find little boxes just perfect for the cancelled checks or cunning little drawers that hold paper clips and thumb tacks (even though I rarely use thumb tacks).

What I am not so great at is the bigger stuff: when I sort through the pile and there is still a pile left. The stuff that doesn't really have a home, but that I still want to keep. Clippings about online resources for writers that are pertinent to Macintosh users (always a rebel, eh?). A quilted wall hanging from a dear friend that hasn't been displayed in the three years since I received it for Christmas. A clay pot my son made in third grade (let's see, that was 17 years ago now) moved from its original shelf to make room for more books that needed to moved from off the floor. Stuff that I need to KEEP, right? Maybe, maybe not.

Erica the professional organizer has patiently and kindly helped me figure out what goes where. She struggled with my brain's logic for a long time before we came to an agreement that I could file things in a weird way because it worked for me. For instance, she always lumps life insurance and retirement planning together. Not me. I keep them separate; one is financial, the other belongs with wills and end of life papers. I can find them that way. Names in my Rolodex are filed mostly by first names rather than last. It's easier for me!

So now my files are sorted and (equally importantly) labeled and the desktop is clear, the kitchen island is bare and the vanity is empty. And I am feeling uneasy.

A horrible thought enters the back of my mind and drills its way to the front of my consciousness: what if I secretly LIKE my clutter? What if all these years I have been paying lip service to getting things organized...and I really wanted to hang onto it? Ouch.

A psychologist would have a field day with that insight. Sure would explain why I hung on so dearly, why I simply could not get it done all by myself. But this year, I have hired someone (it still galls me at some level that I am paying someone to help me do this--grrrr). I have met the enemy and moved the mountains...to mix several cliched metaphors.

What I notice is that my clean surfaces - which I am committed to keeping clear - show that my house could use a little interior design. I guess I was using my clutter as decoration! When the piles are gone, I can see what needs a little facelift, a plant, a nice painting.

I have a couple of options. I could allow the clutter to cave in me again. Oh boy, would that be easy to do. I am an expert at creating clutter--all I have to do is stand still, live my life and not put things away. It happens like magic. And I wouldn't have to worry about decorating my house.

OR, I could keep up the calm, clean facade. And start watching "Divine Design" or "Design on a Dime" (easier on my budget) and fluff up my house without the clutter. Yeah. That sounds better. Decorating means NEW. I LIKE new. ADD is really lovely after all...