My mother and me

It’s the day after Mother’s Day. I’m feeling a little lonely. Those of you who know me know that I lost my mother in 2007. Those of you who read my blog regularly will also know that I credit her with making my childhood an experience I would not trade, even if I could.

It was after her passing that I became aware of my ADHD, and the very real likelihood that she too had this disorder.

I believe my coping strategies were taught to me by her and I believe that they were strategies that she honed over years of seeking out what worked for her.

Credo: I will be in the moment as often as I am able. I will pay attention to my work. I will be aware. I will take care of my self, and my kami so that I can do what needs to be done.

Taylor McKinlay

Taylor McKinlays Blog

I’m not a man of religion, but I am a man of faith. And while I have trouble defining my faith in so many words, I can say that it’s what keeps me going.

Some of you may know that I used to write sometimes using the name Taylor McKinlay. I maybe got away with a little more using that name, but it wasn’t because I could hide from my name.

He has ADHD, she plays kazoo

I have friends who are musicians. They are also a couple. He is a guitarist and singer, she is a guitarist, drummer and singer. They write music as well.

One of them is also an accomplished kazoo player and the other one has ADHD. Okay, since playing a kazoo requires nothing more than humming into the thing, I’m sure they can both play one, but the one that does it on stage is very good at it.
I like to hang out with the rich and famous
… I wonder where the rich were?
I attended a release party recently for their EP. Actually, it took place in two locations on two different days. The first one was in my city, and the second one was in the small town where they have roots. I like to refer to these two people as friends. And we share a lot in common. We’re all musicians, all song writers, and ADHD plays a big part in all our lives.

A fun and educational place to spend an evening ...

Is it possible that putting more than one ADHDer in the same place might be counterproductive?

About a month ago I attended an ADDiva Webinar. I got into a private chat with another attendee who knows me. The fact that I am a divo and not a diva is not obvious at these webinars, but some of the participants know that I’m a guy and I don’t hide the fact.

These webinars are available for replay. Thank heaven for that.

The private chat was not on topic, in fact it was like an excerpt from a burlesque comedy routine. Much of it was centered around my gender, a naughty conversation about me being found out.

It's about time ...

“I remember that movie,” my boss said, “how did it start? I missed the beginning of it … ”

I looked at her, she looked at me, and we laughed.
How did I get here?
It’s been an unusual progression. My marriage afforded me with an executive function, my wife’s. This meant that I always had things to do. After her passing, I was left at loose ends, as they say.

I ended up helping out at a local café in exchange for a place to write and hang out in the day.

Late again!

You know, having an ADHD friend may be a mistake. We can’t be counted on to be on time. Ha, sometimes we can’t be counted on to show up at all. We’ll forget your birthday. We’ll forget dinner dates. We’ll forget to gas up your car when we borrow it.

Hell, we might forget we borrowed your car in the first place.

A cousin of mine married a man who may or may not be one of us, but I’m giving him an honorary diagnosis (I can do that right? It’s part of my membership kit, a certificate that allows me to initiate others into our family???). They were leaving their home on the east coast to come to the center of the continent for a visit.

Ready for the road!

One of my greatest pleasures in life is riding my motorcycle. At 53 years of age I am proud to lay claim to 45 years of biking.

My father taught me to drive a motorcycle when I was eight years old. I couldn’t reach the gear shift lever so he changed gears for me from the back seat of his 80cc Suzuki scooter. The adventurous ADHDer in me was up for a ride any time of any day.
Nothing’s changed.
These days I ride whenever I can. I ride with friends, but I’ll ride alone if no one else is going.

The write stuff ...

A class. A course on writing, of all things. That’s where I was on Tuesday night, a novel writing course.

And am I planning on writing a novel? Well … not so much. Oh, I’m not saying it won’t happen, I’m slowly writing my childhood memoirs and have every expectation of publishing them eventually, but right now? No. I have so much on the go right now, so many different tasks lined up one might be led to believe that I had ADHD.
Oh, yeah … forgot there for a minute.
On Tuesday night I entered the classroom with some trepidation. As you heard in Wednesday’s post, I had forgotten my medication on Tuesday. That was not my only cause for concern, however.
What could possibly go wrong?
The last time I set foot in a classroom I was, by my own estimation, normal, a norman, a standard issue human male – 1959 model. The course I was taking back then was, surprise, a writing course. Freelance Writing.

I have an appointment today ... or a week ago today

Oh dear. I’ve done it now. I have an appointment today at 10 AM. It’s important to note that I know this, in light of what I’m about to confess.

My confession is this: I don’t know what my appointment is about. “You’ll find out when you get there …” I can hear you all saying. (Kelly sighs dramatically) Yes, I’ll find out when I get there … if I get there.
More true confessions …
Okay, confession number two. I’m not sure where this appointment is to take place. I didn’t write down the topic or the location anywhere. I’m feeling a little embarrassed about the whole thing and I’d like to drop the subject. I’d like to just quit thinking about it, but I can’t. Thoughts of it are just nagging me. And I hate being nagged by my thoughts.

So this is what I've been missing ...

A little while ago I was doing some work in a friend’s office. It’s a rather cluttered and disorganized space. That makes it frustrating to work in, but I never judge and I never complain about spaces like that. I can’t, my work space is no less of a mess, it’s just my mess. I know my way around my own mess.

As I was shifting some things around, I came across a plastic crate with the label “OTHER” on it.

I burst out laughing. There were maybe four of these crates in a stack. This was the only one with a label on it, and the label was so ambiguous it was funny.