I’d just finished folding the sheets, dropping them into the laundry basket on the floor. Long day. Dinner was on the stove — something my five-year-old daughter with ADHD wouldn’t touch.I’d started bracing for the battle: When she wouldn’t sit down, would refuse to eat, probably cry, drop something, or hit someone.
I looked down at her, sitting shirtless because collar tags bothered her, pencils from her craft box strewn around as she drew.In a second of my looking away, she took the dull craft scissors, lifted the top sheet from the pile, and cut a generous hole in it.I wanted to scream.
What was she thinking? Why would she do that? What was wrong with her? She looked back at me, wide-eyed and afraid, scissors still in hand, “I don’t knowRead more on additudemag.com