I'm at wits end with my son...

He's 12, on medication for ADD(doesn't have the hyperactivity associated with ADD thank goodness), can't seem to turn in his homework, can't seem to remember to do something 5 minutes after you ask him to, I am constantly reminding him to get dressed for bed,wash your face,brush your teeth......Ahhhhh,I can't take it. What should I do??

He was diagnosed ADD by his pediatrician before my husband made his wishes for a divorce known. Although his teacher could not say that in her opinion he was ADD, she did say that from her experience he displayed the characteristics. He is not hyperactive, just easily distracted. As a toddler, he hated loud noises and constantly covered his ears or cried at the sounds of sirens. If he was watching TV or playing with toys I'd have to call his name at least 3 times before he would acknowlede me. He is not obstinent as he has a huge heart and is a generally caring individual.
His father and I never fought until he announced his desire to leave. The divorce was somewhat messy as I unfortunately spiraled into a depression. Our fights were never physical and his father is in his life as much as the parenting plan allows.
So in answering your questions, what is your opinion?

It's difficult to describe what it is like to be the parent of a spirited child. The answer keeps changing; it depends on the day, even the moment. How does one describe the experience of sliding from joy to exasperation in seconds, ten times a day. How does one explain the "sense" at eight in the morning that this will be a good day or a dreadful one.



The good ones couldn't be better. A warm snuggle and sloppy kiss awaken you. He captures you with his funny antics as he stands in front of the dog, a glob of peanut butter clinging to a knife hidden in the palm of his hand, and asks, "Is Susie a rotten sister?" The dog listens attentively. The hand moves just slightly up and down like a magical wand. The dog's nose follows the scent, appearing to nod in agreement. You can't help laughing.



Profound statements roll from his mouth, much too mature and intel­lectual for a child of his age. He remembers experiences you've long since forgotten and drags you to the window to watch the raindrops, falling like diamonds from the sky. On the good days being the parent of a spirited child is astounding, dumbfounding, wonderful, funny, interesting, and interspersed with moments of brilliance.



The dreadful days are another story. On those days you're not sure you can face another twenty-four hours with him. It's hard to feel good as a parent when you can't even get his socks on, when every word you've said to him has been a reprimand, when the innocent act of serving tuna casserole instead of the expected tacos incites a riot, when you realize you've left more public places in a huff with your child in five years than most parents do in a lifetime.



You feel weary, drained, and much too old for this even if you were only in your twenties when your child was born. It's hard to love a kid who keeps you up at night and embarrasses you in shopping centers.



On the bad days being the parent of a spirited child is confusing, frustrating, taxing, challenging, and guilt inducing. You may wonder if you are the only parent with a kid like this, scared of what is to come in the teen years if you don't figure out what to do now, in the early years.

It's how I survived!

I worry about his well-being constantly. I worry about his social skills, his self image, and his schoolwork.

Then in the midst of all this worry, he calls my cell phone while I'm driving to work just to tell me that he forgot to tell me he loved me that morning.

I am blessed and I know that someday he will be successful in whatever path his life takes him.