AIADD

I have AIADD, Age-Induced Attention Deficit Disorder. Whether that's a real diagnosis or not, I have it. It's better than thinking my scatter-brained-ness is related to getting older or, worse, child inflicted.


I used to have a great memory. I could keep a thought in my head for more than a minute -- sometimes even longer. I could focus on a project to completion. I even had a good vocabulary. It was fabulous.


And then I had kids.


Now, I'm not going to blame my kids, though it is their fault that my sleep deprivation has been going on for the past decade, and, thanks to the newest, I'm deep in the midst of a new cycle. Sleep deprivation is an awful thing, but my AIADD goes deeper than just simple sleep deprivation. I can no longer function on even a toddler's level. My vocabulary sucks. (see.) I can't concentrate for longer than a minute before my thoughts flit off in some other direction. My focus lasts as long as it takes to pour a cup of coffee. Memory? What? I can't say how many times I've headed off to some area of the house, filled with purpose, only to get halfway to my destination and come to a complete halt, look around like a lost soul and try to figure out not only where was I going, but what the heck was I going to do once I got there.


Case #1: The kids are all in basketball. Jackson is just starting and the impression I'm sure I'm making on the other parents isn't good. I walked in late to his first practice by about 10 minutes, dragging the car seat, with my hair all blown out -- not from frantically dashing across the parking lot, but simply because the wind was blowing 60 mph -- that doesn't matter, I looked like a woman on the edge. No, his first practice wasn't forgotten, thank goodness, I was just running late after dropping off Kallene at her practice which starts at the same time, only she's at school and Jack is at the Y. Second week of practice, I arrive pretty much on time. Hurray, but Matt's hungry so I drop Jack, pull into a parking space and feed him. 20 minutes later, out comes Jack. There's nobody there. Huh? Memory recall #1 -- Oh, yes, his coach had mentioned she'd be out of town, so I guess she couldn't find a substitute coach. I apologize that he won't have practice and finish feeding Matt. Like a snowball to the back of my head, memory recall #2 hits -- out of nowhere the light comes on and I realize, with complete dread that practices are not at the Y, they're at a school 10 minutes from the Y. I look at the clock 6:30. Great. What to do? Click-on the "don't let your child down" rule and head for practice. Get there. Get out, into the, yes, horrific wind and trudge around looking for an open door. By now it's 6:55 and I pull open a door and stare down the hall and a group of players and parents. This time I am the woman on the edge, I look it and feel it. And I get the looks of sympathy to prove it, "Poor woman has totally lost it."

Case #2: Brushing my teeth I had a great idea. I turn to check the weather on the TV, turn back not 10 second later with the great idea totally gone. Like it never exsisted. All that remains is the knowledge that I actually HAD a thought. What it was -- don't know. Haven't figured it out. Can't recall it no matter how hard I try. Gone forever.

I keep hoping it'll get better. That I'll be able to reboot and start over with good memory. It isn't looking good though. Maybe I should invest in 3M because those post-it notes are going to come in pretty handy.