Friday, January 16, 2009

My New Diagnosis

In the big ol' crap pot pie that is a Mid-West winter, it took me more than 3 times my normal commute time to get to work in blowing snow that was awesomely forecasted as "flurries". I was out of Diet Coke this morning and about 20 minutes into waiting to just get ONTO the highway I realized my cell phone was dead.

Rad.

Last night I was doing my usual flirtatious tango with sleep, complete with the rose in my mouth as sleep swept me and dipped me but didn't really whisk me away until I finally just willed it to come over me. As sleep and I did our dance of love, I was watching The Principal's Office on TRU. And let me just tell you, teenage boys are hormonal and damaged goods. What a bunch of tools.

My favorite moment came when one of the kids revealed that he had a disorder I'd never heard of but am completely familiar with. It's called Oppositional Defiant Disorder. And I'm totally familiar with this disorder because it's basically called being a teenager.

Symptoms of this behavior are:

  • often loses temper
  • often argues with adults
  • often actively defies or refuses to comply with adults' requests or rules
  • often deliberately annoys people
  • often blames others for his or her mistakes or misbehavior
  • is often touchy or easily annoyed by others
  • is often angry and resentful
  • is often spiteful or vindictive
See also: Betsey when she is drunk.

While I know my brother is wrought with this and my husband is pushing it into his 30's, I think I had this when I was a small child.

Some examples:

How about the time I annoyed my mom who told me not to drink the nail polish remover when I was like 2 but I did it anyway? Firemen and stomach pumping should be a staple at any good party, trust me. This also totally explains my ability to drink like a man. A big, huge, hairy man.

Or the time I totally proved my mom wrong about the correct use of Kleenex and threw an entire box of tissues into a candle in her bedroom? Again, I love a good fireman and pushing the envelope on 'renters insurance'.

And then when I was about 5 I had hair down to my butt and when my mother told me not to take the curling brush and wrap it in my hair, I totally won when I went ahead and wrapped it right in there... I twisted and turned until it was hanging about an inch from my head. Good times were had that day as I got repeatedly slapped in the head and told to sit still. Why my mom didn't shave my head, I'm still not sure.

Oh and then there was the time I wanted to play with my grandma's shaving cream in the bathtub and was told to be careful not to get it in my eyes, whatever. I proceeded to make myself the biggest, whitest, fluffiest beard you've ever seen and then really? Was the look complete without eyebrows? Oh hell no! And you know, no girl can have a beard without the full ensemble. So yeah, I took a big plop of it and stuck it right in my eye. My mom's laughter while I screamed was awesome and not at all a topic during later therapy sessions.

My favorite was when I was 8 and I got a pocket knife and was cutting a huge box to make it into a store to play in. My dad gave me the pocket knife and told me to be careful as he went to go take a shower. Two minutes later he was pretty annoyed by my wails and bloody hand. God, I showed him. Take that you showering, not watching the kid with a pocketknife Dad!

Hey!

Now that I think about it, I don't think I suffered from ODD as much as a case Darwinism and lack of parental supervision.

This also explains my ability to drink like a man, a big hairy man.

10 comments:

KaritaG said...

WTF is up with parents thinking their tiny blonde daughters need hair down to their butts? My sister and I were regularly wrangled by the heads from about 2-7 when we both got sick of it and insisted on cutting it all off. Please do not let me do this to my daughter someday...

Rassles said...

Seriously, what is the point of coming up with some asinine disorder to replace mere adolescence?

And yeah. I still have it. So, you know. Chalk one more for ODD.

Marion in Savannah said...

Damn. I have it, and I'm about to be 63... Of course I too can drink like a man, so maybe that's the key. I call it "refusing to suffer fools gladly," rather than ODD, which sounds so, well, odd...

Jason said...

Your drinking ability is one of the many reasons I picked you!

Betsey Booms said...

KaritaG - I'm not sure - but I whacked all mine off pretty early on as well.

Rassles - I know, seriously, right? Did we have to make it into a disorder? I thought it was called being a punk.

Marion - It's a good thing you can drink like a man, so when I'm in Savannah I can have someone to drink with! OR something.

And yes Mr. Booms, I recognize that is why you "picked" me, luff muffin.

rachie! said...

OMG my BF in 3rd grade did the same thing with one of those curl hairbrushes - except, you know, she did it in class, and had to be taken home admist the ridicule of the entire class because the teacher kept saying "that brush will get stuck in your hair if you do that".

Jessica said...

My son has this totally and no they don't have meds for it. Dammit. I'm just fucked. And seriously I think he has like stage 5 of the disease...and he wonders why I flinch when he tries to give me a hug. True story.

I am Trish Marie said...

Both of my kids have that. I am sure of it. Come to think of it, I have it, too. Do you think I can get dissability for that?

ajillofalltrades said...

NOt to discredit your post or anything, but all I can focus on is the fact that you said "rad."

Seriously, I've started including that in my vocabulary again as of the past week or so and I've noticed other people are, too...like you and TheTattooedMama!!

How rad!

Reeky said...

are we related? I so have this condition.

when I was 3 and got in trouble and sent to my room. I freakin' showed them who was boss by peeing in the heat duct during the winter with furnace blasting away. Moments later the whole house smelled like burning pee.

Bad part was, my grandmother and grandfather were visting. Grandma found the puddle by the duct and immediately assumed it had been done by my grandfather with Alzheimers. My mom put the pieces together and realized it had been me but not before a long drawn out scene with my grandmother yelling at a very confused grandpa.