Understanding Cog-Fun Therapy: A New Path for Kids with ADHD

Previous episode: Adventures, Treatments, and New Ideas: With ADHD to Divine Assistance

My first meeting with the Cog-Fun therapists was just me, without Michali. It was an introductory session to share about the sweetest girl in the world.

Beforehand, they had given me questionnaires to fill out. More forms... except this time, as I filled them out, I felt different. These weren't the usual maybe-useful-maybe-not details. These were questions that required thought. I had to really consider Michali and place her on a scale. I sensed that something was different here.

During the session, this feeling only intensified. Tsili and Atara*, who won my heart from the first second, asked me many questions about Michali, with and without the questionnaires. They weren't the first to ask me about her, definitely not. And probably not the last... But for the first time, I felt someone really understood what I was going through. At times, it seemed like they had divine insight—how did they know to bring up this exact topic? Or that particular point? Just last week... or a month ago... how did they know???

With each moment, the feeling grew stronger that I had found the right place. That here, they would know how to help Michali, teach her how to cope.

When I returned home from that long session, I went to my room and burst into tears. Tears of relief. Finally, someone who truly understands, not approximately—and they have real help to offer me... Thank you, Hashem.

And so Michali and I started walking once a week to Tsili and Atara's small clinic. Small but charming, with dozens of games of all kinds, a lot of willingness and desire, and above all—lots of attention and love, which Michali so sorely needed. By this stage, she'd become very frustrated about not having friends in class. The weekly sessions, aside from the practical help from the therapy, brought a smile to her face, gave her self-confidence, and made her very happy. Even if just for that, it was all worth it.

But it was far from everything. Cog-Fun therapy is highly structured, including 17 sessions (and more, for those interested. But that's the base). It's occupational therapy specifically tailored for children with ADHD, considering all the characteristics that accompany the disorder, with specific adjustments for each child.

During the sessions, Michali played board games and field games; she learned to pause and think before different actions to avoid mistakes or dangers; she learned to track her own activities, decide what to do, and check if she did well; she recognized activities she enjoys and utilized them during complex times; and much more.

Meanwhile, I learned how to praise Michali for every positive act, no matter how small, to encourage her to try and invest in the right places; I discovered new ways to assist her, which I hadn't thought of before; and along the way, I spent many hours of personal attention, "quality time" if you will, which greatly strengthened our bond and my appreciation for this little girl. Suddenly, I could see all her virtues, not just her challenges. Suddenly, this girl, of "what's the connection anyway?", positioned herself as a whole unit. With her virtues, and the virtues within her challenges.

Time Blindness

When the issue of morning organization kept coming up in sessions, we realized she struggled to estimate how long each stage of getting ready would take, they introduced me to an intriguing new concept: "time blindness". It turns out it's relatively common among people with ADHD, in varying degrees. Simply put: Michali doesn't quite understand what "time" is. Phrases like "I'll be back in 10 minutes", or "It'll start in an hour" can sound to her just like "It'll happen in a week", or even "here, now". That's also why she still can't learn to read a clock, despite all my efforts. How long does it take to get dressed? Shower? Eat? What time should one leave for school? When is Purim, or Passover, or Rosh Hashanah? For Michali, these were unanswerable questions. She just doesn't know. She's already 7, but can't remember if Sukkot comes before or after Rosh Hashanah, and if it's not actually close to Tu Bishvat.

So fine, with the calendar, we can manage. When we take out menorahs—it's a sign of Chanukah, and buying lots of dairy means Shavuot is approaching. Later, with God’s help, she'll also grasp the essence of the holidays. But how can we manage morning organization?

Tsili and Atara gave me a wonderful idea. First, they worked with Michali on a list of actions she needs to perform in the morning: washing hands, showering, getting dressed, eating, taking her medicine, putting her sandwich in her backpack, etc. They organized these actions in the order that fits our home, with cute drawings, so initially, Michali knew what to do. Now, how can she tell when?

Following the therapists' lovely suggestion, I bought a simple wall clock that could be opened from the back. I attached the cute drawings next to the numbers on the clock, creating a full hour—from 7 in the morning, when she needs to wake, until 8 in the morning—when she needs to leave for school.

Now, when Michali wakes in the morning, she sees what picture the big hand is pointing to. Right now, that's enough, because the small hand—mom knows... She follows the big hand and can know exactly when to perform each morning action. Comparing the hand’s position, she knows if she needs to hurry more, or if she has more time.

And behold: Michali arrives on time to school.

After a while, the clock fell and broke. Due to life's busy pace, I didn't get around to making Michali a new clock. For a certain period, unfortunately, it completely slipped my mind, and simultaneously—Michali suddenly started being late to school every day... When I remembered the reason, I hastily made her a new clock—and order returned to the mornings. Well, usually. There’s no perfection in this world.

Tsili and Atara continued supporting us, with frequent feedback calls and precise work. They even held a conversation with Michali’s teacher to create aligned expectations.

We finished the 17 sessions just as first grade ended. The farewell was hard and sad, not only for Michali but for me too. But what we gained during this period will stay with her and me for a very long time.

*All names in this column are fictional, for understandable reasons. For the first time, I regret that I can't reveal Tsili and Atara’s real names. They deserve that acknowledgment. You know who you are. Thank you.