Stuck in the Mud - CHADD

1 A Allison, what are you doing up there? asked my mom. I m moping! she yelled angrily down the three of us mom, dad and me still sitting at the dinner table fromwhich Allison had recently stormed away, burst out laughing. The comment wasso typical of my sister: completely forthright yet hilarious. My sister is blustery,unpredictable and noisy. She is tropical weather; you never know when the cloudsare gathering and when the thunder, lightening and rain are going to strike. In amatter of moments, laughter can turn to tears and smiles to don t remember life before my sister. She arrived in May 1984, when I wastwo and a half years old. Before that, life was quieter with all attention focused onme, the only child. Everything changed when Alison was born.

2 From that pointon, our house became a noisy place filled with constant / April 2004 Stuck in the Mudby Jennifer JenningsLiving with Allison requires a light tread, flexibility and 2004 / 23 Allison s noise began as a newborn. She didn tjust cry (which I do not remember); she remember watching her whistle in the bassinetby the window. My parents were amazed; mygrandparents were flabbergasted. Allison was mostcertainly an unusual child. In addition to whis-tling, she also sang constantly. A highly musicalchild, she memorized songs immediately. And assoon as she learned to talk (loudly, I might add),she never stopped except to was a cheerful child, all smiles andgiggles, except when she threw temper childhood memories are filled with visions ofAllison s outbursts.

3 Her rages seemed to eruptfrom nowhere and were so frequent that one out-burst seemed to blend right into the next. Shewould lie on the floor, kicking, screaming andcrying. I remember looking on, trying not toolaugh, especially when my dad would lay on thefloor with her and start kicking and screaming,too, in an attempt to distract her. As she grewolder and her tantrums intensified, my dad wouldliterally carry Allison upstairs to her room whereshe would continue hollering. Amazingly, whenAllison finished a tantrum, she didn t hold agrudge. In fact, in her mind, we were not allowed to be angry with her. To this day, shebecomes enraged if I remain upset about some-thing she said or did 10 minutes prior, from whichshe has since a toddler, Allison used to literally climbthe walls at the doctor s office.

4 She felt constrainedand wanted to get closer to the windows by climb-ing on the backs of the chairs. Impulsive then andimpulsive now, Allison would get herself intoprecarious situations. One year in early springwhen the snow began to melt and the mud start-ed to thaw, Allison walked through a muddy partof the school playground into the middle ofthe spider web (a multi-colored, metal, climbingcontraption), only to become Stuck in the playground aide picked her up and brought herinside, leaving her pink and blue winter boots inthe mud for a later another occasion, Allison then a tod-dler decided to visit our neighbors who livedaround the corner. She found them having icedtea on the front lawn. At her own initiation, shewent home, retrieved her little lawn chair andsippy cup and joined them.

5 My worried parentslooked everywhere, only to find her chatting withthe ladies where she was having tea. Clearly impulsive, Allison has always takenrisks without giving thought to the has skied down slopes that are too difficultand taken jumps that she lacks the skill to handle,subsequently landing flat on her face. She hasgone down an alpine slide too fast, especiallyaround the corners, and slid down the slide with-out the sled, resulting in multiple scrapes andpermanent scars on both her arms and / April 2004 Stuck in the MudYet despite these and other challenges,my sister s birth was a gift. I was given aplaymate and a best friend. Growing up, weoperated in our own world a world ofdevotion, a world of secrets and giggles, aworld of mutual influence.

6 When Allisonwas a baby and crying, I would tell her don t cry, or I ll cry too. Today, like manysiblings, we still have our disagreements,screaming matches and bickering moments,but more often than not, we share a the end of second grade, Allison sdiagnosis of AD/HD was confirmed. Shethen began taking medication. The medica-tion, coupled with support and behavioralinterventions from our family and her teach-ers, helped Allison tremendously. From thatpoint on, her life and ours vastly has always had a poor memory,especially short-term. Each day after school,my mom would ask, Allison, what did youhave for lunch today? Allison could notremember, even though she ate cheese,crackers and bologna for lunch nearly everyday throughout elementary school.

7 Hermemory problems continue to plague her,especially in academic settings. Tests are anearly insurmountable challenge for my sis-ter. She thrives on research or hands-onprojects where she pushes the limits andworks for perfection and an exhaustive all of her life (and most of mine), myfamily s primary focus was Allison s aca-demic achievement. I played the role ofsecondary tutor, editor and memory play-mate. We spent much of her elementaryschool years singing songs to help her re-member spelling words, did cartwheelsacross the lawn to remember times tablesand played matching games with our childhood, there were nomistakes about our identities. Allison wasdark-skinned with short, straight, blond nearly white hair.

8 I had pale skin and long,light brown/dark blond ringlets turnedwavy. A tomboy, Allison s straight, skinnyframe never held up pants or skirts verywell. My mom dressed her in overalls andjumpsuits as often as possible; she woreshorts under her dresses. When I wore dress-es to school, I wore them without shortsand changed into play clothes at home. Al-lison talked; I read. Allison sang; I playedpiano. Allison took acrobatics; I took called her Ooper; they called me , as young adults, people irritat-ingly mistake the two of us for twins. Weshare the same light blue eyes that changecolor with our clothing, the same dark andbushy eyebrows and light brown/dirtyblond hair. Smaller than me, Allison standsone quarter of an inch shorter and a fewclothing sizes smaller.

9 I have short legs;hers are long. I have hips; she has none. Wemove in similar ways and tell people thesame stories. In high school, we often wouldget ready for school in separate parts of thehouse, only to find that we were wearingnearly identical outfits. Equally infuriated,one of us would then have to rush backupstairs and s senses quickly overload. Shebecomes overwhelmed and then reacts vio-lently. My Grandma tells a story of shop-ping with my sister, my mom and me. Shetook the three of us to an upscale depart-ment store for a clothes-buying and Mommy found dozens ofoutfits for Allison and me to try on. Grand-ma took Allison, then three and a half yearsold, into the dressing room and dressed tags were too much.

10 She hated every-thing and proceeded to yank the tags andlabels off of all the garments. Dismayed,Grandma quickly dressed her and tradedchildren. For Allison, a seam that sticks outslightly on the inside of clothing is causefor annoyance. Socks are the bane of herexistence, she feels stuffy in them. Mymom used to make get-ready for school Clearly impulsive, my sister Allison has always taken riskswithout giving thought to the DOES NOT ENDORSE PRODUCTS, SERVICES, PUBLICATIONS, MEDICATIONS OR TREATMENTS, INCLUDING THOSE ADVERTISED IN ATTENTION! CHADD DOES NOT ENDORSE PRODUCTS, SERVICES, PUBLICATIONS, MEDICATIONS OR TREATMENTS, INCLUDING THOSE ADVERTISED IN ATTENTION! Stuck in the Mudcharts for my sister; putting on socks had their owncheck also affect Allison dramatically, especiallythe smell of grease and fried food.