Another fine mess

Sarah is my ten-year-old daughter, and I doubt she'll get much older. Let me explain.

For the first couple of years of Sarah's schooling, we received reports from her teachers saying that Sarah wasn't finishing her work, she wasn't handing it in, she seemed off in her own little world. Late last year she was diagnosed with "borderline ADD." Finally, a name to go with her magpie behavior.

So far this year has been a repeat of last year: lost homework, incomplete papers, distracted during class. My husband can empathize with Sarah; he had the exact same problems when he was a kid. He said "It's like Sarah took a page from my life."

Trying to be a good parent, I looked up ways to help your ADD kid without the use of drugs. One website suggested to make lists of jobs the kid needs to complete. Brilliant! I thought and wrote a list and stapled it to her homework folder. It goes something like this:

At School I Will:

--Complete all work and hand in

--Leave travel folder (the one with the note) on desk.

--Bring home all important papers (like field trip information, etc.)

I thought it was a good idea. For the last couple of weeks, I've been asking Sarah every day "Did you get your work done and hand in? It doesn't count if it doesn't get handed in." She'd nod and smile and I'd pat myself on the back. For once, I thought we had a handle on the ADD problem. I should have realized that when things look their brightest, that's when you should assume the worst.

When Sarah came home today she said--and I'm not taking dramatic license here--"I may have given the impression that I got the work done." She then handed me a pile of twelve papers; some incomplete, some completely wrong. (Any guesses why telling time on an analog clock is so difficult?) If I hadn't been so furious about being lied to--a major ass-whipping offense in this house--I probably would have thought she was funny. But I wasn't in a humorous mood.

Twelve fucking pages of work! From the time she came home until about an hour ago, she did nine of them. She's doing as much as possible tomorrow night. There's just no excuse for this. I told her that because she lied and didn't do the work, Daddy and I were going to be especially creative with her punishment. And I told her that if I had known about this last week, we wouldn't have gone to Six Flags this past weekend.

I heard all kinds of excuses why she didn't get the work done:

--it's dull

--didn't understand the directions

--afraid to ask for help/wanted to figure things out on my own

--"what's the matter brain, don't you understand English?"

--"hurry up you'll miss recess."

Sarah is a bit of a perfectionist. And lazy. She tends to beat herself up when she doesn't get something right "right out of the box" as my husband would say. She's the same way with martial arts. If she doesn't get the form right, she cries and beats herself up.

What's scary is after she told me about the homework, she cried and said she wasn't worthy to live because she can't get the work done. I told her that she is worthy to live and she's to never talk like that again. Then I sent an email to her teacher asking if Sarah and I could talk to the school counselor together. This kind of talk frightens me.

On Friday this week, we're going to talk to her pediatrician about possibly putting Sarah on medication (the lowest dose, he promised) and also getting her thyroid tested. Hypothyroidism runs in my family; I've got it and it affects my moods, sleep, metabolism and period. If it weren't for the synthroid, I probably wouldn't have Sarah.

I want...what do I want? For Sarah to be like "other" kids. You know, the ones who hand in work finished and on time. They must live in Far, Far Away. I want her to not be so hard on herself.

Sometimes it's frustrating.