Prairie Madness

2014-04-28T11:11:00.000-07:00

Ten Things My Son Wants You to Know About his ADHD:

1. “You are stupid, lazy, crazy, clumsy, careless, etc.”

First, I want you to know that I am none of these things, not really. People with ADHD are more often than not, very intelligent. Albert Einstein and Thomas Edison were very famous for their scientific theories and inventions, yet they had symptoms of ADHD and autism.

2. “You just don't think.”

I do think. In fact, I think a lot. My thoughts are like airplanes circling an airport, just going and going and unable to land. You know how sometimes you can't turn off your mind to fall asleep at night? I have that problem every night. In some ways its more of an ability than a disability because it means I have lots of ideas and that I am a creative problem solver.

3. “Lincoln, you need to be more responsible.”

I am responsible, but I may need help and I may struggle with finding school papers, books, and things that I need to organize my day. I will always have to learn strategies to help me focus and concentrate. I actually have to work very hard to be responsible.

4. “You are not normal.You are different.”

That depends on what is considered normal. What is normal for you, may not be normal for me. We all have things that we struggle with on a day to day basis. I am as normal as anyone who struggles with a problem or difficulty. Mine just happens to be ADHD. I can accomplish the same things anyone without ADHD can, but I may have to work harder.

5. “Stop that! You are annoying me.”

I don't deliberately try to annoy you. None of things I do – fidgeting, tapping my pencils, pulling apart or playing with erasers, tapping etc., are done deliberately to annoy you. Sometimes I don't really know I'm doing it at all. Sometimes I may do things that are strange, like tap you on the shoulder. Overall, I just want to be your friend and I want you to like me.

6. “Earth to Lincoln”

Sometimes I may not hear you because I'm thinking about other things or I have something on my mind. I also may not look you directly in the eye. It doesn't mean that I don't hear you; I'm just preoccupied at the moment. It takes me awhile to switch directions and move on to something else.

7. “Sit down!”

Movement is how I learn. In school, you are expected to sit and listen. But this goes against my very nature. I like to be outdoors exploring and seeking adventure. I can classify different insects, snakes, and spiders. These things do not scare me. In fact I'm curious about them and curious about the world around me. I may get up to sharpen my pencil a lot because I can get up and move around the room.

8. “You are bad.”

I may get in trouble a lot at school for things that I do and say, but that does not mean that I am bad. I don't do things to be defiant. As a person with ADHD, I can be very impulsive, sometimes 1 or 2 years behind someone my own age who does not have ADHD. God knows I'm not bad, and loves me the same way he loves everyone else. I am a kind person and a loyal friend who often gravitates to others who have some of the same issues.

9. “You are a liar.”

I'm not a liar. I like to tell stories and sometimes I exaggerate or embellish them to make them more exiting. To me, I'm telling the truth. Sometimes, you may want to ask me, “Did that really happen?” Once I start talking about something that I'm excited about, I usually can't stop. Even if you interrupt me or walk away from me I will just continue talking until I'm finished. There may be times you may not want to listen to one of my stories and get bored or disinterested. I cannot always tell if you're annoyed. Please let me know that you would like me to stop.

10. “You don't even try”

I try very hard every day. I have to try very hard to concentrate, to do my schoolwork, and to be organized. I have to try very hard to keep track of everything. Sometimes I try so hard that I mess up even worse. Trying is a part my life every single day.

Your Home The Hazardous Waste Dump.

2014-04-15T07:41:00.000-07:00

Hazardous Waste Dump.

It just might be your home.

One hell of a title! In most homes, it is absolutely true. We live in a hazardous waste dump and most don’t even know it. This has been going on for years and years; we bring home products from the store that we use every day - for cleaning our homes or doing laundry and we have no idea that we are slowly poisoning ourselves and our families.

Why are we poisoning ourselves? Why would we take the risk? So we use these products to keep our homes free from viruses, bacteria, and anything else that can make us sick, but yet over time, these products can be the very cause of our illnesses. But how can this be? How are the very elements that are supposed to keep us heathy, at the same time, be harmful to our health? You may not like the answer to this question but the truth must be revealed.

We live in a country that is in the midst of chemical warfare and most don’t even know anything about it the products we use each and every day like cleaning supplies, laundry detergent, shampoo, air fresheners, hand soaps, and the list goes on.

One example of a toxic substance used frequently is bleach, a laundry room staple. For decades, customers have mistakenly equated chorine bleach with the words like “clean” and “safe,” but the reality is far from it. The bottle of chlorine bleach in your laundry room, may contain something far more sinister than a simple germ killer. (Leadership in Action, December 2013). We all know that bleach contains chlorine, right? In WW1, the Germans released chorine gas on their enemies- marking the first full-scale deployment of deadly chemical weapons (Leadership in action December 2013). A lovely little thought isn't it? So as we walk down the cleaning supply isle in our local supermarket, and as we take a big deep breath, we inhale all of the chemicals that are in those cleaning products. That chemical smell is known as outgassing. Do you honestly think that those chemicals are going to stay in those nice airtight containers? Nope. They are leaking out of those bottles at a surprising rate and going into your lungs and vital organs. Just think about that the next time you walk through that isle of cleaning products!

Medical studies have revealed that chlorine bleach specifically aggravates the membranes in the lower respiratory system, causing shortness of breath and wheezing. And studies also show that a person with asthma who cleans in there home with chlorine bleach once a day will have a 5% increase in asthma attacks in a year (Leadership in Action, December 2013). So are you willing to wash your asthmatic or allergic child's clothing in bleach after learning this important tidbit? I would bet not.

Ok...this part is particularly important. Even though all these products are contained in glass or plastics, we bring them home and the same outgassing is happening in our homes. No matter where your cleaning products are stored, outgassing is happening every second, and each and every day we breath in these chemicals. Little by little, these chemicals gradually build up in our systems. Anyone that cleans in there home twice a day will quadruple this figure- they will experience 28% more asthma attacks. These are just adult statistics. Think of your children who are in the house also; they are breathing the same air. If your child is asthmatic or allergic, they are in trouble (Leadership in Action, December 2013).

Chorine Bleach is only just the tip of the iceberg; it is used in a lot of other products. Just go and read the labels of your favorite products and google those chemicals, but be prepared, your findings may shock you. There is an infinite amount of information on Hazardous wastes in your home, which I will post in a later blog. I don’t want to overwhelm you and I want you to think about this for a while.

So If you have any questions I would love to hear from you please email me at tdgogolin@gmail.com.

Live long, healthy and prosper.

Tad Gogolin

Just a Tad Healthier

Life on Top of the Refrigerator

2012-09-12T08:31:00.003-07:00

Everyone has a clutter spot in their home – one or at least a few. We have a few. In fact, we have more than I care to admit. Ours happens to be on top of the refrigerator in the space between the cupboard and the appliance itself. If there is dust to be found, among other places, this is where one would find it. Our refrigerator single-handedly, magnetically attracts all or most of the dust in our house towards the back or on top. There is, miraculously, no dust on the front. What IS on the front are lots of grubby fingerprints from starving children who have just come home from school and from the stern mother who has repeatedly slammed the door shouting “No popsicles before supper!” The following is a summary of what I have found in the catch-all basket that sits on top waiting for stuff to be thrown into it:

The tape – it can usually be found here , but sometimes it is missing altogether. In fact, I’m surprised to find it here today. The wiener dog’s new collar – Wiener does NOT like the new collar I got him; he likes his OLD collar much better and we all agree he looks much better in red than he does in camo anyway. Last year’s Valentine’s cards from my son’s class – you mean I haven’t thrown those away yet? My daughter cherishes hers forever, while my son chows down on the candy. Who cares if there’s some girl who writes she loves him forever. He’ll never know…or care. Chapstick – the hubby’s lips are nonexistent, but boy are they smooth. Mine are as parched as the Saharan desert, but I still forget to use chapsick. The nail clipper I keep forgetting to return to the mother-in-law. "Here, clip Wiener’s toenails with this." I tried that. He gave me his loudest most plaintive dachshund screech ever before I could even clip the first nail.

The list is endless, but one thing’s for sure. Our clutter is one more reminder that we are fully alive and busy with life and that much of it is lived on top of the refrigerator.

The Paint Wars

2012-08-13T10:58:00.000-07:00

Some would say that the truest test to determine the strength of one’s marriage is the birth of a child. This is somewhat true. My husband and I did have our ups and downs as we have raised our children, but apparently we have weathered those storms. But I would say that another source of contention is this…what color to paint the living room. Seriously. Thanks to the ever popular and often quoted book, “Mars vs. Venus,” we know that it is no secret that men and women think differently, and apparently this concept, whether inherently scientific or not, can also be applied to painting the family room.

For some strange reason, the male species is a varied one on the opinion of paint color. Type 1 husbands or significant others will humbly defer all painting decisions to their wives. The husband merely slaps the stuff on the wall. If the wife complains he can simply say, “It was your decision dear.” This is ideal and wise; however, there is the type two variation who must have a say in every painting decision. He figures he is the expert painter by default and must have a say in what color goes on the wall. My husband belongs to this club. No one could fault him for not expressing himself and it becomes inevitable that we must compromise; thus we, as a couple, have become the bane of paint stores everywhere.

Paint stores have done nothing to alleviate the Paint Wars between men and women, or couples of any persuasion. In fact, their marketing strategies revolve around and thrive on couple wars. You still must choose from thousands of paint colors as well as a variety of name brands. It’s not just “Country Blue” anymore;” it’s “Just a Hue of Blue,” “Sapphire Surprise,” or “Icy Morning.” How I’d love to be the person behind the desk naming these, but since I’m so disgruntled about too many choices, I might come up with more creative names such “Baby Poop Yellow,” “Booger Green,” or “Barf Brown.” What choices do they have for people who are chronically impaired decision makers as well as perfectionists? None. On the bright side, they do have samplers for the price of a regular can of paint. You mean I have to buy a can of paint to test it? Yep. At least at Wal Mart they do have paint samplers for a buck, but there might only be three colors to choose from, but definitely not all colors are available. Geez, thanks.

The first stop for my husband and I upon making our decision to repaint the living room was, ironically, the local Farmers Cashway “Do-it Center.” Before going, I had painstakingly browsed the Valspar website looking for the perfect paint color. I was especially impressed by the “National Trust Historic colors.” Oh my, I could let Martha Washington choose my paint colors! Happy day. I took a photo of my living room, posted it on their Virtual Painter, and Voila, I had the perfect color. But that didn’t quite work as I expected. The puzzled salesperson at the “Doing It Center” had no idea about the colors I had chosen. “We don’t carry that particular line of Valspar paints.” What, may I ask, do you have a website for!?

In short, we end up buying “Icy Morning,” which looked like a nice, subtle blue. That was easy, wasn’t it? We got it home, put it on the wall and waited for it to dry. It stayed there for a week. A more appropriate name would have been “Icy Blast.” It was sort of like having your first true love. You know, at first we loved it, then we had conflicted feelings about it, and then we hated it passionately. Yes, exactly.

We tried other colors and they all ended up looking as blah as our old color. I asked my sister-in-law, the family style guru, for advice “Why don’t you try some of my paint?” This was a beacon of light. I highly respected her paint color choices in her house. Her advice, “go neutral for the family room.” Oh how wrong was I to think I could paint the room any color I wanted! There must be style considerations and guidelines. I tried my sister-in-law’s colors. They looked great on her walls, not so on mine. She has sunlight; we have cavelight. It was back to the paint store for us.

Any time we paint a room together, I end up choosing a light shade, and then my husband, the color inventor, takes it back to get more color put into it. That is how our living room ended up “Brightest Lime,” instead of “Olive Green.” This time, we looked at Sherwin Williams. The Hubby wanted bright, vivid color as always; I wanted subtle color. After much haggling between the two of us, with help from a perpetually perky sales lady with a permanent smile, who was also a pro at not getting involved in marital spats, we ended up going with “Sunrise” with a bit of orange…basically, in a nutshell, beige. Naturally. Is that an end to the paint wars? Not really…never, ladies, go down without a fight!

Together We Have it All

2012-07-31T07:19:00.001-07:00

One of my favorite quotes is "We may not have it all together, but together we have it all." That especially describes our family or as I often quip, "The ADD family." As much as I would like to think that we are somewhat organized, I know that is definitely not the case. More often than not, even my best efforts cannot conquer chaotic mornings.

On a typical melt down morning, my eight-year-old son and my five-year-old daughter flatly refuse to get out of bed and get ready for school. "Please let me sleep," is the plaintive reply each time I stomp back and forth from my son's room to my daughter's room. Eventually the children do tumble out of bed, but not without one of my tried and true strategies, one of which is to grab onto the child’s ankles and yank.

When brushing my daughter’s hair, I occupy her by dumping all the hair supplies on the floor for her to play with...messy but effective. Even the slightest tug on a stubborn knot will send her into orbit. "Mommy didn't mean to hurt you," I say in the sweetest voice I can muster. My mother-in-law’s euphemisms run through my head, “You must win.” or “she just needs to know her hair must be done.” But even if I do win, I have lost in more ways than I have won. Her knight-in-shining armor, Daddy, races up the stairs and barks..."What are you doing to her?" My daughter sobs in her savior's arms simultaneously glaring at me, the big, bad mommy. “Let her do it the way she wants!” Hmm…does that mean she will leave the house for school looking like an orphan from “Annie.” It’s definitely a hard knock morning.

One morning, we were running late. The clock was racing ahead of us. When everyone was dressed and each child had a back pack (one item often left behind), we headed out the door to the van. In our rush down the street, we saw flashing lights behind us. Daddy had been stopped for speeding. As my husband sat with the police officer in the cruiser, my children began sobbing. Daddy was in trouble and the cops were going to take him away, despite my reassurances to the contrary. Finally, daddy came back to the car and all was well – he only got a warning. So, now, whenever the kids are slow getting ready for school, I smile, and remind them of the morning daddy got picked up for speeding. Maybe they learned something from it. Maybe they didn’t. And maybe someday we will have it all together, but I doubt it. I like us just the way we are…delightfully imperfect.

I'm Wearing Jeans to Church

2010-04-26T08:15:00.000-07:00

Whenever we go somewhere, I am never ready. I spend so much time trying to find our son's shoes and my daughter's precious stuffed pig that I have little time to figure out what I am going to wear, much less throw on a little make-up. Eddie Bauer mom in high-topped boots I am not. In fact, Eddie Bauer is not less than 100 miles from us. As we were preparing to leave for church yesterday, I realized that we had nearly 10 minutes left for me to get ready. I yell to my husband, "I'm wearing jeans to church today! I hate all my clothes!" He looks at me with that humorous smirk that I both love and find annoying. Besides, he has clothing issues as well. I finally find a pair of "not too wrinkled," and "not too visible hanger crease," black pants, and the one blue top that is not more than a year old. As flighty as I am about fashion, new means it's my favorite.
As a mom, I find that fashion is becoming more incredibly challenging and even more so, it becomes less interesting as I rise to the occasion of motherhood. Fashion, and impressing other people, is no longer my biggest priority. I remember when I was in high school and junior high, fashion was everything. Even back then, I wasn't incredibly successful at the whole thing. I still felt inadequate even though I worked so hard on myself every morning. My hair had to be just right, as well as my make-up. I spent forever on my "eighties wall-o-bangs." I did all of this in my early twenties as well, although thankfully of course, the "wall-o-bangs" had since expired. All of the fuss didn't make me look better. It didn't make me a better person.

When we finally got to church, for which we are perpetually late, my three-year-old daughter behaved quite well to begin with. Our speaker this past Sunday was very inspiring. His whole message was about "Holding the Light." He explained how when helping his father work on the farm, his job was to "hold the light," so his father could do his work. He paralled it to the work that humans do for God. It was a very interesting, meaningful sermon. I wish I could have heard the end of it. My three-year-old was very tired, and when she's tired, and things are not exactly how she wants them, she has a meltdown. I had committed the mortal sin of taking her animals out of her brother's new bug box. And as we all know meltdowns can be hideous, and this one was. She was promptly marched out of the sanctuary and we ended up sitting on the stairs (when we act up in church, we don't get to go the playroom). She sat for awhile on the stairs and began to calm down. We wrote on her magna-doodle. She drew an egg, a very large egg. Then she wanted me to draw an Easter Bunny.

My previous, fashion conscious self would have been mortified at all of this. She would not have lived through going to church with half-brushed hair and a child having a screaming fit. That woman would have been paralyzed with fear. My children have taught me to "hold the light" for them, to be brave, to be self-assured. They don't care how my hair looks. They care about the path I walk on and how I'm forging it for them. They have taught me to be a better, more forgiving person. Eddie Bauer, you will have to wait.