You can’t fix it.
When my son started struggling in school (from Day 2 of kindergarten, mind you), all I wanted to do was fix it. I was on a mission to put an end to his problems in the classroom — I just had to figure out how.
After a year, I realized I needed help with my fix-it mission. Every DIY approach I had concocted had failed. One-hundred-and-seventy-nine days filled with painful school experiences proved that this issue was bigger than me and my little boy.
I marched into the pediatrician’s office bewildered and desperate, and marched out of the developmental doctor’s office three months later with a name for this school-spoiling beast — ADHD (autism wasn’t added until years later).
“Fantastic!” I thought. “Now I have a name for the problem. Now I can fix it.”
Do you see what was wrong with this picture? Do you see the valley of quicksand and how I was going to continue to move in place in that muck for a long time to come? Two long years, to be exact? Read More