When a student says they have plenty of time and then gets blindsided by a deadline, what aren’t they seeing?
The first thing to realize is they’re not lying to you. They genuinely believe they have the time. That’s time blindness. But what they’re not seeing is something we call future awareness: being able to “see” that something due a week from now, two months from now, needs to be worked on... now!
What they’re missing is the middle. They can see today, and they may know there is a deadline later on, but everything in between is a blur. Their deadline doesn’t just creep up on them; it ambushes them, because there was never a map or a plan to get them from here to there in the first place.
Future awareness is not only being able to see the middle—“How do I get there?”—but also activation to start now. And for a lot of students with ADHD, time isn’t something they can “feel” coming; it’s invisible until it’s right in front of them.
“I have plenty of time” isn’t a plan; it’s a feeling. And feelings are a terrible way to measure how much time you have.
You often talk about helping students “see time.” What does that mean, and how can a parent or teacher make time more visible without constantly reminding them?
I’ve dedicated my whole career to helping students learn time management. I developed planners and agendas that teach time, so I have a few mantras:
- To manage time, you need to be able to see it.
- You need to externalize time to internalize it.
Time isn’t invisible. It very much has a history and a future, a beginning, middle, and end. “Seeing time” means turning something abstract into something physical—something a student can point to, touch, or watch move.
Most kids with ADHD don’t have an internal clock they can trust, so we build them an external one. That’s why I’m a broken record about analog clocks over digital—a clock face shows you time passing, or the “sweep” of time, while a digital display just shows you a number.
The same is true of a visual, vertical planner that shows what students need to do alongside when they have the time to do it. Most calendars or planners are glorified to-do list holders. The planner needs to do exactly what it says: plan time.
The parent’s job or the teacher’s job isn’t to be the reminder; it’s to be the architect, as well as the scaffolding and support. Put the visual system in place, and let the system do the reminding instead. That’s the whole shift: from “I told you the test was Friday” to “the calendar’s been telling you all week.” They need to provide the external tools—calendars, planners, and timers set to hold future time.
They also need to be asking the right questions. Most parents ask, “What do you have to do tonight or this week?” I want parents to ask:
- When will you have the time?
- What’s your plan?
- How are you going to see that?
- What else may get in your way?
Those are questions that get the student thinking about time and not just the task.
Why does “just use a planner” fail so many students with ADHD? What does a useful planning system need to show or do differently?
I’m going to blow my own horn right now. I developed a line of products under the Order Out of Chaos name that were, among other things, tools for time management. Planners were the center of the product line. We sold hundreds of thousands of them all over the world until I sold the company in 2024.
What made the planner unique and an actual teaching tool was that it married what the student had to do—homework, activities, work, and so on—with when they would have time to do it. If filled in properly, they could see when they had available blocks of time. That’s what any planning system needs to do. It doesn’t have to be a paper planner. It just needs to marry the task and the time.
Having a front-row seat for over 24 years to why “just use a planner” fails a lot of students, I tell parents two things:
- Writing in a planner is two steps. It’s writing assignments down and writing in a planner. A lot of kids aren’t ready for those two steps. They may first need to get comfortable with writing things down. I had a student once write his assignments on a roll of paper towels for a year before we moved him to something more conventional. But it got him used to writing.
- Writing in a planner isn’t a goal; it’s a system.
When parents tell me they want their kids to write in a planner, I tell them they’re focusing on the wrong thing. The goals are:
- They see time.
- They gain future awareness.
- They can see their time and their tasks.
The planner is the system. The other thing I feel works against an ADHD student is that even though a planner is a place to write things down and see time, it’s not a place that tells you what to do with them. A student can write “history paper due Friday” in beautiful handwriting and still have no idea that means they needed to start Tuesday. The planner did its job, but the assumption that their executive function skill was strong enough to do the work didn’t.
A system that actually works has to do the thinking the student’s brain isn’t doing yet. It has to break the big, vague task into small steps, put those steps on specific days, and make “start” a real, visible, dated task of its own.
In Leslie's words
“The structure has to live in the system, not in the parent’s mouth.”
Procrastination can look like laziness or defiance from the outside. How can a student figure out what’s actually keeping them from starting?
Procrastination is always a symptom, not a character flaw, and it’s almost never about the task on the surface. Ask a student to push through and you’re treating a wiring issue like a willpower issue.
What I have kids do is get curious instead of critical:
- Is this actually about not knowing where to start?
- Is it that the task feels too big to hold in your head all at once?
- Is it boring?
- Is it that “starting” has you paralyzed?
- Do you even understand what it is you’re being asked to do?
Once you name the actual barrier, you can build around it. Sometimes it’s with a task broken down so small the first step takes two minutes, or with a body double or music, or an environment that shares the load. Diving into your own productivity personality helps my students understand what’s getting in their way.
What does a realistic homework plan look like for a student who has trouble estimating time, shifting out of school mode, or sustaining attention?
This is such a big question that I’m going to focus on shifting out of school mode. It starts with a landing zone, not a launch. A kid walking in the door from school is not in a working brain state. They need a buffer before they’re expected to perform, whether that’s a snack, 20 minutes of nothing, or a walk around the block. Skip that step and everything after it fights an uphill battle.
Then bring in all the support and scaffolding:
- Are they sitting in one place to get work done, or are they moving around the house? We know that movement helps to lay down learning and to initiate. Are they working on different subjects in different areas?
- Are they switching subjects? We know that switching subjects—that back and forth—helps to keep the brain active and engaged. It prevents that brain drain when we’ve been working on one thing for too long and we’ve stopped paying attention.
- Have I called in all the supports? Music, good lighting, food, candles, and other supports can help lighten the load.
- Can a timer hold future time?
- Can I body double them so they stay anchored and focused?
- Have we planned a roadmap for homework so we know what the priorities are?
How can parents provide enough structure to help without becoming the family timekeeper, taking over the work, or turning every deadline into an argument?
These questions are as long as a webinar! Okay, let’s keep this short. This is where I discuss my mantra: it’s the parent’s job to set parameters, but it’s the child’s job to negotiate them.
The parent’s real job is to hand the ownership of the work back to their student, not to hold it for them. The structure has to live in the system, not in the parent’s mouth. If the calendar, the checklist, or the visual plan is doing the reminding, the parent gets to step out of the nagging role—to a degree and depending on age and capability.
Structured choice does the rest: instead of “Did you do your homework?” or “You need to do your homework,” it’s “Are you doing math first or reading first?” You’re not backing off, and you’re not taking over—you’re handing them the wheel inside guardrails you built.
What tends to fall apart when a student moves from high school to college or work and loses the scaffolding they’ve relied on? What can families do before that transition?
In high school, the scaffolding is often invisible because it’s built into the day—a parent, a teacher, a bell, a schedule, someone else holding the deadlines in their head. The minute that structure disappears, the executive functioning gap that was always there becomes impossible to miss, because now the student has to be their own reminder, their own planner, their own timekeeper, all at once, for the first time.
The work has to happen before the transition, not after the first missed deadline. That means handing over the actual tools. Not just permission, but the tools while the student is still home. This is the time to let them own the calendar, let them make the plan, let them get it wrong on a paper that’s worth 10%, or, yes, even fail.
I feel that so many parents think independence is something that clicks the day their student leaves. It’s not. It’s something you practice on purpose, with a safety net, while you still can.
Parents ask me all the time what the number-one skill is that I feel a student needs to be successful in college. Some would think I would say study or time-management skills. That’s not it. They need willpower:
- Willpower to turn off their phone when studying.
- Willpower to get themselves into bed and not stay up all night scrolling.
- Willpower to say, “No, I can’t go watch football with you tonight because I have a huge paper due tomorrow.”
- Willpower to get themselves to the library at 9 a.m. to meet their study group.
That’s what they need to teach: willpower. And the only way to teach it is to give students the space to make choices. Their own choices.