After years of managing the conveyor belt of forms, appointments and tests tied to a special needs child, you want the path of least resistance. So, when my daughter asked that I hide her ADHD medicine in her violin case and drop it off at school, I didn’t hesitate.
Insane? Silly? Embarrassing? Yes, I agree to all. But, for me, drug smuggling was easier than dealing with a contentious ex.
When J, Savannah’s father, learned of her ADHD diagnosis his reaction was typical: denial followed by claims that I was “crazy.” Even the doctors and therapists, with their stacks of tests results, couldn’t get him to budge. One, having pegged J as difficult, advised I hide the medicine in Savannah’s coat pocket.
My luck he checked the pockets.
Then Savannah, of all people, suggested we try her violin case. I was hesitant for obvious reasons, but it was easier than dealing with the ex’s threatening calls or another set of forms. We don’t, unfortunately, have a Bruce and Demi type relationship.
That scheme lasted exactly one day thanks to a curious music teacher.
I persisted despite the setbacks and the ex’s claims that she is “perfectly fine” because one, I hold the trump card – full custody and decision making – and two, I’ve seen small increments of improvement. For the first time ever my 9-year-old can sit do home. This is huge.
Eventually, the school nurse did me a favor and ran interference with the doctor’s office and she now administers the medicine. If this fails, I’m not sure if there is a plan #4.