Ok, so today I was thinking about the last 10 years. My ADDer son is 12, and my husband is 51, and both got diagnosed about 6 years ago. Life has gotten better in some areas- worse in others.

The FRUSTRATION of dealing with people that just do NOT remember what you said- and SWEAR you never said it!- has lessened. The frustration of the people you love doing the same things over and over no matter how many times you tell them NOT to has not changed. It is a condition, and I know it. I know in my heart that my spouse did not really remember that I specifically said "do not eat those- They are liquor filled and I can only get them once a year and I am saving them". He heard me the time I said it, and probably kept it in his head for about an hour. Then he saw them, and the over-ride issues of his ADD (and possible undiagnosed frontal lobe issues) turned his lust for them on- and his memory dumped my order.

It happens often- over the years, he has eaten whole desserts, entire roasts, and "nibbled" his way through all kinds of special foods or goodies. My son hates him for eating the desserts, for eating "his" candies, for eating whatever his eyes find without a moments thought. He doesn't even feel guilty- for he doesn't remember in his head that there is anyone else here or that anyone else might have wanted the food (or saved it just for themselves).
It has been embarassing to offer friends something and find it gone. It has irritated the HELL out of me to go for a midnight snack and find it gone.

It has been YEARS of explaining that eating ALL the main course leftovers- but not the veggies, potatoes, fruits, or anything else- means that I do not have anything to serve for dinner and have to cook more meat again. Nothing works. So, we punish him with diatribes. My son and I make mean jokes about it when we put something in the fridge. We threaten as we return from the store, and we hide food about the house.

The first time (heck, 100 times) my son was half way through his McDonalds and left for a while, only to come back and find his burger *eaten*, he was livid and angry and hurt. My spouse felt bad, and has had to make thousands of food runs to get everything from milk to bread to McDonalds-- but to no permanent avail. There is some deep rift there that we cannot breech, and cannot heal. Someday, I am sure my darling boy will find out about Ex_Lax, and his father will find out what "getting it together" really means.

Me? I hide the pastries and buy myself ice cream that they both hate.

Woman, mother, wife, writer, handydandydicerslicer- that's me!