A.D.D.D.

Oh my goodness, Oh my goodness!  

I feel like taking a long winter's nap.  Guess why?  

Because History Day is over!  Wahoo!  

And the brainchild made it past Districts.  She and her group will be going to the state competition in April.   

I'm such a proud grandma!  

And not just because my daughter's group is going on but because my son's group is going on too.  I never talked about my son because John Adam's (my daughter's project) was a much harder birth than Father Damien (my son's project). My son had an epidural for his brainchild and didn't feel any pain. 

(If you want to know what the what I'm talking about read this post.) 

So, at your request I'm now going to post my never-before-seen-by-human-eyes draft about my domestic disorder. It was written on October 11th, 2008  (And I've glammed it up a bit since).

............................................................................................

My name is Dummy and I have Attention Deficit Domestic Disorder.

At least that's what I said at my last ADDDA meeting. (Hey, why do they call it Attention Deficit Domestic Disorder Annonymous if I have to tell my name?)

ADDD is often confused with ADHD (Attention Deficit Housecleaning Disorder) but it is a far more serious problem.

ADHD is the simply the inability to focus on basic housekeeping tasks because you are allergic to brooms and dustpans.

But ADDD encompasses so much more. Your ears zone out when your child says the word homework, your eyes fog up when you try to alphabetize the piles of clutter on your countertop, and your brain freezes when your husband says, what's for dinner?

A few nights ago, while I was rebooting my brain, my husband told me it was time for an intervention.

I had never considered the possibility that I might have ADDD. I always thought I was just really good at multi-tasking and that one day all my tasks would be complete, but apparently I've been suffering from accute denial, which my husband says is not the same thing as cute denial.

"There's nothing cute about denial," he said when I put on my high school cheerleading skirt, grabbed my pom poms and grinned widely while chanting, "Push it down, push it down . . . waaaaayyyyy down!"

"You should be chanting "Give me an A! Give me a D!" he told me.

My ADDDA counselor says that education and support are key to coping with and managing my disorder, so I've organized support group.

If you are displaying five or more of the following symptoms, you too may need divine intervention.  Meet me (and the universe) in my comment box and I will take care of it.

The first step to coping is recognizing and taking responsiblity for your disorder. You may take responsibility for my disorder too, (if you feel so inclined (because it is kind of your fault, don't you think?)).

1. Has your smoke alarm ever gone off while you were making dinner because you just had to finish a sadoku puzzle?
2. Do you ever find rubber cement in your spice rack and blame it on Jackie Robinson?
3. Do you ever feel an urgency to count and wrap your penny collection as soon as you begin scrubbing the kitchen floor?
4. Do you ever fantasize about sticking the ethernet cable in your ear so you can blog while your husband is talking to you?
5. Do you ever kneel down to pray but then remember you need to check your comment box real quick, (but hold that thought God, because I'll be right back to say amen, I pinky promise) ?
6. Do you ever open the dishwasher then wash all the dishes by hand before loading it.
7. Do you only get an overwhelming urge to clean your during Sacrament meeting or while you're grading research papers?
8. Are you the only mom who blows off last-minute, optional lunch-on-the-lawns at your child's elementary school?  (Okay, I just added that one).

If you answered YES to at least five of these questions you too are suffering silently from ADDD.

It may be time to come out of the closet, ladies. (Unless that's where you hide your chocolate.)