In which I theorize that Maria had ADHD

I am a closet (not anymore, I guess) Sound of Music lover. I love, love, love that movie. I love Julie Andrews, I love Christopher Plummer. I love the whiskers on kittens song. I even love the bitchy Baroness and Rolfe, even though he broke Liesle's heart and betrayed them all the little Aryan bastard. I coveted those matching outfits made from curtains. For most of my life I longed to have a beautiful and exotic name like Brigitta. And that puppet theatre??? Swoon.

But I digress.

I think Maria had ADHD. Husband laughs at me. He asserts that now that both of my boys have been diagnosed with different subsets of the same condition, I think everybody has it.

It's true. I do diagnose a startling number of people. But it's surprisingly rampant and once you know the symptoms and co-morbid behaviors, it's really quite obvious. But I don't think everybody has it. Just most of the annoying people in the world.

So you're asking yourself...how does the Sound of Music relate to ADHD?

Well...you see, I've been trying to think of a way to explain Diminutive One to his new teacher. It's really not fair to thrust him into a classroom and onto an unsuspecting teacher without giving her a word of warning.

I want her to understand that he's challenging. I don't want her to be taken by surprise when he digs in his heels and refuses to perform a given task. Or when his little impulse control problem causes him to make a choice that is so monumentally bad he is certain to get in trouble, and yet when asked why, he will invariably respond, "I don't know". And he doesn't.

I don't want her to be caught completely off guard when she realizes that Diminutive one twirls, skips, gallops and hops, but never walks. Ever. I don't want her to be completely and thoroughly frustrated when she has to ask him for the 500th time to take his seat.

And yet, I fear if I tell her all these things, she will be prejudiced against him. I fear she will become blind to all his really good qualities. I fear she will never make an effort to know the creative, imaginative, sensitive and hungry little boy that lurks beneath the behavior problems.

Simply put, I want her...to like him.

Because when you have a child like Diminutive One, you always worry that people will be unable to seperate the kid from the behavior. You always worry that nobody will know how fantastic your kid is...especially when there are days you are hard pressed to see it yourself.

Last year Diminutive One's teacher not only had no idea how to deal with him, she had no interest in learning. I asked time and time again for help in accomodating some of his needs, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. She said that she didn't have the time, but what it really came down to was that she just didn't care.

And perhaps...when I consider the challenges she is up against, I can't honestly blame her. She has too many kids, too little time, too few resources, and a really screwed up set of seemingly arbitrary hoops she has to jump through because of NCLB.

But I want this year to be better. And I'm not really sure how to accomplish that.

I spent three hours last night composing and revising an email to his teacher to try and describe Diminutive One. I tried to tell her how one minute you are ready to throttle him, and the next you are completely astounded by the depth of his insight and the scope of his understanding. How he can see into your soul and steal your heart while you're still trying to quell the anger that only a moment before had threatened to overwhelm your maternal instincts and compel you to say terribly hurtful things that you didn't really mean.

And after I sent it...still feeling it was wholly inadequate...I realize I could have just said this...

How do you solve a problem like Diminutive One? How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?

He climbs a tree and scrapes his knee
His pants have got a tear
He waltzes on his way to school
And whistles on the stair
And underneath his ballcap
He has snarled and matted hair
I even heard hiim singing in the library

He's always late for dinner
But his penitence is real
He's always late for everything
Except for every meal
I hate to have to say it
But I very firmly feel
Diminutive One's not an asset to his sex

I'd like to say a word in his behalf
Diminutive One makes me laugh

How do you solve a problem like Diminutive One?
How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?
How do you find a word that means Diminutive One?
A flibbertijibbet! A will-o'-the wisp! A clown!

Many a thing you know you'd like to tell him
Many a thing he ought to understand
But how do you make him stay
And listen to all you say
How do you keep a wave upon the sand

Oh, how do you solve a problem like Diminutive One?
How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?

When I'm with him I'm confused
Out of focus and bemused
And I never know exactly where I am
Unpredictable as weather
He's as flighty as a feather
He's a darling! He's a demon! He's a lamb!

He'd outpester any pest
Drive a hornet from its nest
He could throw a whirling dervish out of whirl
He is gentle! He is wild!
He's a riddle! He's a child!
He's a headache! He's an angel!
He's a boy!

How do you solve a problem like Diminutive One?
How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?
How do you find a word that means Diminutive One?
A flibbertijibbet! A will-o'-the wisp! A clown!

Many a thing you know you'd like to tell him
Many a thing he ought to understand
But how do you make him stay
And listen to all you say
How do you keep a wave upon the sand

Oh, how do you solve a problem like Diminutive One?
How do you hold a moonbeam in your haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand?

Who knew Rodgers and Hammerstein were so insightful? I wonder...if one of them had a kid like Diminutive One. I wonder...if they ever stopped worrying about people liking their child or worrying that their child would never find their way in a world that doesn't really make room for different. I wish I could ask them.

How do you catch a cloud and pin it down? Indeed.