So I Married an ADDer

For Partners of People with AD/HD: Get the Gear

Before I started working at AMG full time, I had a corporate job in the city. My boss, Mark, was a great guy who loved to dish out advice. He was a big help when we built our house and when we bought our cars. But whenever I raised the subject of having a baby, all he ever had to say was, "They come with a lot of gear."

He was referring to things like car seats, playpens, and strollers. His advice: Buy two of everything and keep one set in the car at all times. That way, you don't have to scramble when it's time to go somewhere. To me, this is great advice for when we actually have a baby, but right now, it's enough of a challenge to get out the door with all of our gear.

I say all the time that I'm going to make a checklist and hang it by the door. Because the way we operate now, Jen and I just shout back and forth to each other:

"DO YOU HAVE YOUR PHONE?"
"YES! DO YOU HAVE THE DIRECTIONS?"
"YES! DO YOU HAVE THE KEYS?"
"SHIT!"

Every time we have to go somewhere, it's the same thing. And we're not the type of people that just grab our purses and head out the door. That would be too easy. If we're going to be somewhere for more than 30 minutes, we roll with fresh coffee, cold water, healthy snacks, pen and paper, and books to read. And if the dogs are with us, it's even worse. I do my best to stay one step ahead and get all our stuff together ahead of time. But I'm not perfect. So we shout back and forth. A lot of times, we end up doubling back when we get to the end of our road because we forgot something.

It's a little easier when Jen goes somewhere by herself, because I can be on standby if (when) she forgets something. I let her in on something the other day that she thought was hysterical. I always hang out by the door for a few minutes after she leaves the house, because she almost always shouts up the basement stairs that she forgot her coffee, or her sunglasses, or one of the five books she's reading. So I hold off on doing whatever I need to do until I know for sure she's got everything in the car.

I think it's time I made that checklist.

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Building a Better Mousetrap

When Jen and I moved out of our apartment in the city, one of the things we were most excited about was a life free of roaches and mice. We lived in a pre-war building, so the little buggers occasionally came with the territory.

I hate mice almost as much as Jen hates roaches. So when we spotted one scurrying under the baseboard in the living room the other night, I panicked. My immediate reaction was to get in the car and go buy some traps. But it was 11:30 at night, and the roads were icy. Not the best driving conditions. So I figured we would just deal with it in the morning.

But Jen, having ADD, was already online looking up how to build a homemade mousetrap. She was on a mission, as is often the case, so come hell or high water, we were catching that mouse. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't annoyed. It was late, I wanted to go to bed, and I knew if we made our own mousetrap the mouse would just laugh in our faces.

But there I was, at midnight, in my freezing basement, sawing a plank of wood in half. This is the kind of thing that happens when you share your life with an ADDer. You find yourself with a saw in your hand in the middle of the night.

I brought all the materials Jen needed upstairs--a bucket, a rod, a plank of wood, and a soda bottle--and she went to work building this monstrosity. I watched in horror as she spread our $5 organic peanut butter on the soda bottle. But I've learned not to question her. I thought to myself: the sooner this is done, the sooner we can go to bed. 

She set up the trap (see image at right) in the corner of the living room where we spotted the mouse. I was not surprised at all the next morning to find no mouse at the bottom. So we went to two different stores and bought $20 worth of mousetraps and set them all out. We moved the homemade trap into the basement to get it out of the way.

The next morning, we checked all the traps. No mice. We knew from experience that sometimes it takes a few days, so we were not concerned.

But later on, Jen was walking the dogs and one of them made a beeline for the homemade trap we had put aside. Jen ran over to grab the leash, and lo and behold, she saw a mouse at the bottom of the bucket. 

$20 on traps, and Jen's homemade contraption caught the mouse. I know ADDers are usually very resourceful and innovative, but she literally built a better mousetrap. So the next time she ropes me into what feels like a harebrained scheme, I'm going to remember the mouse, and go right along with it.

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If you're curious, here's how to build the winning mousetrap for yourself. You'll need a bucket, a rod or dowel, a plank of wood or hard plastic, a soda can or small plastic bottle, and peanut butter.

1. Fill the bucket halfway with soapy water.
2. Slice off the ends of the soda can or bottle and insert the rod through it.
3. Place the rod across the top of the bucket, with the soda can touching the rim.
4. Position the plank as a ramp leading up to the edge of the soda can.
5. Smear peanut butter on the top side of the can.

The mouse will go up the ramp to get the peanut butter, lose his balance on the can, fall into the bucket, and cash in his chips, so to speak.