Several years ago, many several years, one of my sons took a Ritalin like drug to deal with his ADHD symptoms. It wasn’t a 4 hour drug like Ritalin, it was a 10 hour drug named Concerta. (I used Ritalin in my title so you’d immediately know what I was talking about.) Taking Concerta made all the difference in the world for him. He began to read insatiably, got invited over to his friends’ houses and tolerated discipline – everything most parents take for granted. He responded well to it because he was missing a chemical that allowed his brain to relax and focus. Stimulant drug intervention is not for everyone, but it was good for him at that time.
Taking a stimulant without needing to is quite different. If you choose to do this, you might think it’s working for you, all that energy and so many GREAT ideas to tell everyone, but let me tell you it’s not. This is where my story starts.
6:00a.m. I’m buzzing around my kitchen. I run water for coffee, measure out coffee grounds, get the Concerta out, fill a glass of water for the boy to take his medicine and then I go outside to get the newspaper. The day is starting for The Family Barnett and I’m the mom around here. I’m amazed at how well I have my house and my family balanced so that we’re up and out every morning – beginning our productive days of doing good and fighting evil.
6:20a.m. Coffee is ready. Get half and half out, fill two coffee mugs with coffee, tuck the paper under my arm and turn to get the pill and glass of water to go upstairs. I give my son the pill before he has to get out of bed so it kicks in making our mornings less of a battlefield. I look around. Where is the pill? I know I got it out. Where the heck is it? I scan the counter, no pills. Then my bleary eyes focus on the smoking gun – an empty, wet glass with a single water drop still dripping slowly down the side. OH MY GOD, WHAT HAVE I DONE? No pill. Water glass recently used. I just took his medicine. My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?
6:25a.m. I try to throw up. Doesn’t work. As a mother of 3 boys, I usually have to subdue my gag reflex just to clean the bathroom. Now, when I need the magic of that body fluid stench, nothing happens. No help from the cesspool we call the boy’s bathroom. I think I’ll just write my down my thoughts today, see what happens.
7:00a.m. I’ve made it through my showering routine, breakfast, the scramble for clean clothes and backpacks, the “I didn’t ask if you brushed your teeth, go back in there and brush them” routine. Tick…Tick…Tick…..the hyperactive time bomb sits in my stomach, waiting, waiting. Opportunity for disaster also sits and waits - tapping it’s little fingernails in a quick rhythm of impatience. When will that time-release coating dissolve? While I’m driving? While I wait for the stupid idiot driving in front of me to make his left turn from a 2-lane road? While I’m reading Peter Cottontail to my kindergartners?
“For God’s Sake, Peter. RUN!!! Run like a son of a b…………….bunny.”
“McGregor, you bloodthirsty killer, leave the bunny alone. Stop the madness. FREE ALL RABBITS. “
7:42 Tiny wrinkles around my eyes, uneven skin tone, too. What happened here? Age? Meds? Allergies? Looking at myself in the little mirror in the car is fine at a stoplight but in the traffic loop at Drive Like You’re an Infant Elementary School is not good. I drop the boy off. I see the principal. She’s very nice.
“I accidentally took my son’s Concerta this morning,” I yell out the window, waving to her.
“We report parents like you,” she yells back.
I make a note to revoke my PTA card if she’s going to be like that. I survive the traffic loop and am on my way to my school. Question- Can you ever wear out the gum you’re chewing? I know it loses its taste, but can you chew it so fast and repetitively that it just gives up?
I’m going to stop right here in my retelling of this day to reassure you that I would have taken the day off if I had thought I would be a danger to my students. I am prone to exaggerating events, which is my charm unless I’m currently on your last nerve and then it’s just ridiculous.
8:00a.m. I can tell my blood pressure is up. Heart palpitations. I am tensing up without knowing it and then having to consciously relax. Words are hard to control as they tumble out of my mouth. Maybe I’m just channeling an ancient spirit. Let’s hope I can use my power for good today and not evil. I make it to school with cold fingertips. Man, I want to talk. I suddenly have a lot to say. HEY! WHERE IS EVERYBODY?
9:25a.m. I’ve gotten busy with the students and haven’t had time to write. Is it hot in here? Whew. Sweater comes off. I feel best when I’m moving. Maybe I should run. No, that’s a bad idea inside.
9:45a.m. What if my eyeballs pop out? Will there be springs? Boing.
10:00a.m. I’m taking a break and the kids are at recess. Words shoot out of my mouth like bullets. Rat-a-tat-tat.
“Can we get a fatality count, Sargeant?”
“Several are down but holding their own. No deaths at this time, but we have 7½ hours left so there’s bound to be casualties.”
10:30a.m. Back in class. Why can’t 5 year olds read better? How slow can they go? So the wheels on the bus go round and round and the babies on the bus go wah wah wah and the parents go sh sh sh. What’s new?
12:30p.m. Now I’m the partner teacher helping the teacher who helped me this morning. Man, I’m sleepy. Do you think they’d notice if I just laid my head down right here on the table, just for a second? Ooh, it’s cool with my face on the plastic laminate tabletop. I should open at least one eye to check on the kids at my table. Oh merciful heaven, what in the world is that? I jerk my head up with a start. I’ve never seen a well-used kindergarten table so close up. You want to talk about scary? Please God, let that lump of sticky whatever stuck on the table be glue.
1:00p.m. Out on recess duty. It’s Lord of the Flies out here. I’m afraid to push anyone on the swing. I’ve never seen anyone actually swing in a 360 degree circle over the top of the swing set, but why take that chance today?
1:30p.m. Back inside. My ears seem to be very sensitive. Must everyone speak at the top of their lungs? Passing through the office I may have told the secretary to either lower her voice or “shut your yap”. I’m not sure.
1:45p.m. I think I’m having an out of body experience. A little love crumb of an angel asked if I would read her new book to her. She got it at the PTA Book Fair. It’s 32 pages long. The kid loved it and I lost my will to live. Is that fair?
2:45p.m. At last, dismissal. We sang our goodbye song and began to line up. I push aside some kids and run to the door. I can be line leader every once in a while, can’t I? What’s everyone looking at?
3:00p.m. Still with the dry mouth. I’m alert when I’m moving. So, so very tired when I’m still.
4:00p.m. My skin is crawling. My back itches. My hair feels like worms on my scalp. Actually, I feel like I usually do after school, bone tired and ready to drop.
4:45p.m. Home at last. What a day. So exhausting. The best thing about today was having so many thoughts to write down. I can see why speed is attractive, productivity is high, but so is the chance that you’ll be a real pain in the ass. It’s like drinking too much coffee, but not having the caffeine wear off.
5:10p.m. I just read all this to my husband. He didn’t think it was funny. What does he know? Maybe he can’t laugh. Maybe he doesn’t have the ability to find humor in anything. Maybe I’m not that different on any other day. (Ouch, that hurts.)
The only thing he said was, “Well, now we know you don’t have ADHD. That’s how kids with ADHD feel when they don’t take their medicine.” Good point there, sir.
I have to say that this whole day has made me more sympathetic to those people who don’t have the ability to control themselves because a part of their brain is missing a chemical that will help it relax and be functional. In their brain, the boss of this area that regulates concentration and control is asleep so the rest of the staff decides it’s time to party. When the person takes medicine, the boss wakes up and settles everyone else down.
What else did I learn today? Each night I look back over my day to try to find a lesson learned. Today the lesson was this: Take notice of what you are doing. Be aware of your actions. Do one thing at a time. If my world is too fast to tolerate anything slow, then it’s time to weed out any stuff that does not contribute to conscious living. Mr. Rogers said a long time ago, “If you feel like you’re going slow, go slower.” I agree with him. Slow down your parenting. Slow down your teaching. Slow down with your friends and family. We remember more when we’re not so jammed packed with activities. Are we going to win awards at work for being like this? Nope. Are we going to be available for those moments that we will always remember with a smile? Yep. I’m in this life for the long run, so I decided to slow down a long time ago. I like it this way better.