Adderall.

It sounds like a whispered conversation in the corner of a backyard bbq; a name dropped at a parent/teacher meeting; a scene out of Desperate Housewives.

I've always avoided medication; I don't like taking pills (have a horrible gag reflex, insert BJ jokes here), I hate shots, and just generally figured I could get by without it. I hate taking bcp every day, and taking tylenol or my migraine meds when I do have one.

However, it was suggested last week that I could benefit from a medication that could help me to focus. And I have been considering it.

I felt ambushed when I walked into my counseling meeting and my husband had already been talking to the therapist and it was the first thing that was said - hey, how about going on this? Just like it was candy. Here, have a gumball. It'll make you more efficient. Hubs told me that I was taking it too personally, and that it didn't mean there was something wrong with me. Just that I needed a little extra chemical push in my brain to help my neurons to fire; or something like that.

I still don't know how to feel about it. After the Desperate Housewives scene popped into my head, I thought it might be good - I could get a lot more done! Prioritize better! Remember everything I wanted to do in a day! But would it really help? Would the side effects be too much for me? Would I be able to sleep? Would I end up doing all of the work around the house? Hubs looked a bit hurt when I balked at taking medication. He said that it worked for him, and I didn't have a problem with him taking medication for his chemical imbalance. I said that was because it was him who brought it up. He recognized a problem. Me? I didn't think it was a problem until it was a problem for hubs. I've always been a little scatterbrained, but I thought it had just gotten worse now that I was working over 40 hours a week and taking care of a kid. I never wanted to do housework in the first place - yes, dishes sometimes sit in the sink for up to a week. Other things were just more important to me.

But lately I have been forgetting things, and it's really getting to hubs. I'll leave something around the house, meaning to come back to it, and it will sit there for a week until he gets upset that it's been there for a week and I haven't done anything. Mostly, laundry. Dishes in the kitchen. My things lying around the house. I left two sweaters draped over a chair in the living room for two weeks. I'd walk by and think, "oh, I have to take those upstairs and do such-and-such with them." But then I'd never come back. It seems now? That I can't finish anything.

So, because I have such a fear - stigma, even - with taking medication for this, I'm going to tough it out and see how I do. I started a list of items that need to be done during the week on a regular basis: laundry, vacuuming, bathroom cleaning, etc. I check them off when they're done. It's going well so far. I just feel like I don't have any time in the evenings to spend with my husband and child - even though he assures me that I do spend quality time with them. I guess that's something that's hard to reconcile for me. I grew up with my mom doing the cleaning on the weekends. Since we go out and run errands, visit, and just generally have fun on the weekends that hubs doesn't work now, it's a little tougher. Especially on the weekends when he sleeps after working 3rd shift. I try to be quiet, but it's tough with a 9 month old! And if I go out, I get nothing done around the house.

I've also been trying to implement a plan to finish everything I start, and not take on anything new. After a recent crying-in-the-basement jag, I realized that I was saving all of these things for a life I didn't have right now. My basement is full of crap. Not crap to me, but just crap. Magazines, bags, bows, quilting items. It's all things that I won't use soon. I may not use at all. And I lost hubs' Father's Day card. I keep bringing so much stuff in, that the stuff I already have gets pushed out. This goes double for my brain - it's like every new thought pushes an old one out.

So I have decided to take Stacy and Clinton's advice and apply it to my life: dress for the body you have. Live for the life you have. All of my plans, everything I was saving, I can't use right now. Doesn't mean I can't plan, but don't plan and then think that it will happen the very next second - I won't be a housewife with time to make a beouf bourginon tomorrow. But, I can take a gander at the cookbooks I already have (I'm talking to you, Rachel Ray) this weekend. I won't be composting and making my own soil - but I can refill the birdfeeder.

Hopefully, letting go of things I don't use or need will help me to appreciate what I do have and make better use of it. Including the brain cells. And if not? There's always that next step.