ADHD

I have a hard time sitting still.

All day, I'm surrounded by kids who are diagnosed with ADHD. Some buzz at such high a frequency I'm surprised their molecules don't break up and do back flips around the room. And I know exactly how they feel. I was the kid who kept falling out of her chair, who had to stand up to do my work, who had to be busy. My parents put in gymnastics just so I'd stop bouncing off the walls.

I am still a body in motion. Even as I'm sitting here, my foot is jiggling and I'm chewing a piece of gum. Unless I'm unconscious, holding still for longer than an hour makes me cranky and fidgety. I used to do projects or sit-ups or something while I watched TV and even then, I could only watch in segments. Come commercials, I was up and running. It drives my husband crazy, because he is, by nature, a lounger. The man can sit in one place for hours and be happy as a clam. It took us a year to realize that we both had different definitions of the word "relax." Mine is a verb. His is a state of being.

So why did I put myself in a position where I tell kids to hold still and stop fidgeting day after day after day? Because teaching is the perfect job for an ADHD wannabe like me. I get to move around all day long, talk as much as I want, and be the center of attention. It's every kid's Ritalin pipe dream.

The problem, however, comes when dealing with adults. Grown-ups expect you to hold still and pay attention and - for heaven's sake, stop fiddling with that! The ability to sit calm and unflinching is regarded as professional. Reshaping paper clips into little people while looking around you and tapping your foot is not.

Normally, my lack of control/professionalism/decorum isn't an issue. But tonight I have Parent Teacher Conferences. I have to put on my serious face and my seriously painful shoes and play THE COMPETENT PROFESSIONAL. It's not a role I relish, due to the fact that, in my secret soul, I'm not entirely sure I'm an adult, much less an authority figure.

So I smile politely, use my most confident tone, and pray the parent I'm facing doesn't notice the spastic tap dance my feet are doing under the desk. Maybe I could bum a tranquilizer off one of my students.