A Good Talk

My phone rang the other day, an unfamiliar number, a nervous voice on the 

other end.

"Hi, Liv.  This is M.  I'm so and so's mom.  I have a couple of questions, I hope they're not 

too personal.  But I've heard you speak about this before and I was wondering if you 

could give me so insight.  I just don't know what to do".

The woman was the mother of a child in Isabelle's class.  We know each by face, 

everyday pleasantries here and there, but we had never really spoken before.  She 

was calling because she was concerned about her child, she's been noticing some 

problems, both academically and socially, but she was scared of the letters: ADD.  She 

was so nervous, very aware of the personal nature of the conversation, not wanting 

to intrude in our family's personal business or offend my in any way.

I opened up to her instantly.  I could hear it in her voice: the guilt, the shame, the 

self-doubt.  She was so worried for her child but was afraid of the possibilities.  I 

understood how she felt because I have felt the same way.  When Isabelle was 

diagnosed with ADD, I felt like I had failed her.  I went over and over it in my 

mind, wondering what I could have done differently.  I blamed myself, Shawn, her 

school.  I felt sad that she would have to work so hard to overcome those three letters: 

ADD.  She would have to learn how to focus, she would have to be so self aware and 

develop efficient study habits: skills that come naturally to most children.  My little 

girl would be faced with social stigmas, she would go through periods of feeling 

inadequate.  My heart felt like it weighed a ton as I imagined all of these scenarios in 

my head, processing her future and how we would overcome this.

But that was just it: we WOULD overcome this.  WE would.  Together.  After a few days 

of epic mama guilt, I pulled my boot straps up and set to work developing a plan of action 

for Isabelle.  Where to start?

First thing's first: form a team.  Isabelle's teacher was the first person we told about 

her diagnosis.  We discussed her medication regimen and how we planned to change 

our routine to create an ideal learning environment at home.  Her teacher was 

immediately on board, giving us immeasurable amounts of encouragement and 

reassurance.  She moved Isabelle to a desk front and center, right next to her desk so

 that she would be available when she needed that little bit of extra attention.  She 

also recommended a private tutor that Isabelle sees once a week to help her with 

concepts she has trouble with in class and needs extra attention on.

Next: behavior modification.  We took a long, hard look at Belle's diet and cut out a lot 

of sugar, carbs, and processed foods.  We bumped her bedtime up an hour to ensure she 

was getting an adequate amount of sleep each night.  We set up a "homework station" 

that was neat and organized and free of distractions to help her stay on task.  We cut 

down on the amount of after school activities she was involved in, limiting her to 3 

activities per week, so that she didn't get overwhelmed and burned out.  And, 

most importantly, we set aside time for her to decompress and just be a wild and free 

kid every day, allowing her the opportunity to burn off the energy that she didn't know 

how to process.

Third: positive reinforcements.  At Belle's doctor's suggestion, we set up a sticker chart 

on the refrigerator with simple, age appropriate tasks for her to complete each day 

and week. Things like making her bed every morning, feeding the dogs, completing 

her homework, setting the table, and taking her bath earned her stickers.  Each week, 

we agree on a goal and a reward for meeting that goal: going out for ice cream, having

 a friend over, movie night, etc.  She LOVES her sticker charts so much and works 

really hard to meet her goal every week.  Not only does it keep her on task, but it 

teaches her responsibility and self sufficiency.  It reinforces a very valuable life lesson: 

hard work truly does pay off.

And last by not least: be realistic.  Our pediatrician told us from day one: your child is 

not perfect, she will not come home with straight As and perfect conduct every week.  

Learn to accept the reality that she is just a kid, no matter what all the parenting books 

and blogs would have you believe otherwise.  As long as she is working hard, doing her

 best, and trying to achieve small, simple goals: praise and reward her.  We are not 

seeking perfection, we are seeking a happy, healthy child.

I told all of this to the mother who called me, reassuring her that ADD will not keep her 

child from succeeding in life, following her dreams, or being exactly who she wants to 

be.  Getting a proper diagnosis and formulating a plan of care, applying interventions 

as early as possible and setting your child up to succeed are what you need to do, not 

beat yourself up or doubt yourself as a parent.  Society tells us things about parenting 

that are unrealistic: no one's life really looks like a page off Pinterest.  We are all just 

working to build happy, memorable moments that fit our own definitions of bliss.  

Hang in there, work hard, and remember to give credit where credit is due.

I connected with this mother who called me that day, I felt like we both benefited from 

our conversation about our children.  She was reassured, ready to move on to the next

 step.  And I was able to recognize how far our family has come, how much Isabelle

 has grown and flourished in so many ways.  

It was a good talk.