ADHD Christmas Special

Kelly’s ADHD Christmas Special – Celebrating Suess Style

“The following ADHD Christmas Special was originally published in the blog, Man of DistrAction on Psych Central on December 28th, 2012, under the name “The ADHD Holiday Special – with sincere apologies to Dr. Seuss” and is republished here with the permission of the author himself, our editor, Kelly Babcock. Jennie, Kelly, and everyone else here at See In ADHD would like to wish you a very happy holiday season. And remember, go easy on yourselves, it’s the best gift you can give to everyone.” ~ editor

I'm feeling rather Grinchy
I’m feeling rather Grinchy
Photo courtesy Wikimedia

I think we need our own Holiday season special. I humbly offer my suggestion, and anticipate, with great expectations, your offerings. Please don’t disappoint me.

Dr. Seuss was born Theodor Seuss Geisel on March 2, 1904. Sadly we lost him on September 24, 1991. But he inspired generations of people to take up reading as more than a pass time, to take it up as a way of life. His books were gateway literature to an addiction that has never been found to be a detriment in any life.

His story of the Grinch has been part of Christmas since 1957, so it is not, I’m sure, much of a surprise that I have chosen to mimic his style of writing for this, my last humorous post of 2012. I hope you enjoy this rambling missive, though it strikes rather close to the heart in places.

My ADHD Christmas Special

It was Christmas again
In the Land of ADD
And the ADDs all grimaced
From you, through to me

Cuddle Fish
Creative Commons License photo credit: Curtis Gregory Perry

All us ADDs down in ADDville
The unfocused and distracted
Were making out lists
Quite long and protracted

Though some of those lists
Told of other lists locations
We still misplaced lists
Amidst gathered frustrations

And even lists found
Fell afoul cross the nation
As we set them aside
Due to procrastination

Dilemma Fish - Detail
Dilemma Fish
Creative Commons License photo credit: Curtis Gregory Perry

And the clocks gathered speed
The days they flew by
And the tasks to do – grew,
Wrapping gifts, baking pie

Until one sunny morning
The clock struck 24
And we realized with horror
There was just one day more
And that was the day …
we’d all been waiting for.

Wait a minute, did I say waiting?
Why would we do that?
We should have been working
Though it’s true, we never sat

We did what we always
Have done in the past
We came up with ideas
But the time didn’t last

And now the ideas
Are listed to haunt us
With visions of what we
Had never accomplished

And though we would give
Anything that we own
To show all our love
To the loved ones we’ve known
We have nothing to give
But the words on our tongue
And compared to our lists
Those words aren’t much fun.

Our lists told of parties
We intended to throw
Of playing Bamfoosal
Out in three foot snow
Of wrapping up Wumples
And Goo-gobs and Sparklets
Of making great platefuls
Of Choco-snick Barklets

There were lists of activities
We would attend
But we all missed them all
When we all reached the end

And the plans that we planned
And the hopes that we hoped
Became gas station gift cards
And soap on a rope.

So we smile and we nod
And accept accolades
For arriving on time
And at the right place
Tho only when that’s
What occurred to be sure
As we’re rarely on time
And for that there’s no cure

The food that we made,
And the gifts that we brought,
Are appreciated still,
If not madly sought

And inside we weep,
Yes inside we frown
While we laugh on the outside
And behave like a clown
And we swear that next year
We will not let them down

Yet this year we’re still sad
And there’s no secret reason
We’ve done the same thing
We do each Christmas season

We’ve built ourselves up
With ideas of great feats
Then we’ve let ourselves down
As our egos we beat

Green Eggs And Ham - Detail
Green Eggs And Ham
Creative Commons License photo credit: Curtis Gregory Perry

For we knew in our hearts
That this wouldn’t go good
For good is a way
we have not understood

But next year, oh next year
If I’m still well and able,
I’ll climb from my chair
I’ll climb up on the table
And amid the great hush
That I’m sure will ensue
I’ll draw a deep breath
And here’s just what I’ll do …

I’ll announce to the world
That I have ADD
And from this point on
They should not count on me
For anything more
Than the star on the tree
And if I forget that
Then that star … might be me.