My Son’s ADHD Makes My #BoyMom Life A Little Chaotic But Wonderful
My son and I at Bandelier National Monument near Los Alamos, NM.
Almost two years ago we took our son to be evaluated for Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder and the psychiatrist spent about 10 minutes with him before confirming everyone’s hunches. Our son is bright and sensitive and creative and fiery. What’s that line from Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass? “I contain multitudes”? That’s my son.
His energy level can change on a dime just like his moods. He needs to be told several times to do something—like pick up his shoes and put them in the closet—but if you give him a scrap of paper and a chewed up pencil he will draw something amazing. Drawing is his happy place and where he most often gets into a flow state.
School? Forget it. It’s pure torture for him, even though he’s getting mostly As and Bs in his classes. Regular school was not designed for neurodiverse kids. Sitting still at a desk and focusing for hours on a teacher at the front of the classroom or reading from a textbook or taking a test is extremely difficult for our son. He takes medication to help him focus during school, and after-hours and on weekends he’s our free-range boy. He loves to play video games, jump on the trampoline, practice his break dancing moves, and draw. I save all his drawings because one of these days he’s going to be a successful artist and I’ll auction the scribbles to the highest bidder. Ha!
My husband and I are trying to figure out how best to parent our ADHD child, and we’re totally out of our league. He and I were both raised to respect our parents, to not ever talk back to anyone older than us, to be a “good boy” and a “good girl.” We’re fairly even-keeled and it’s what I love about my husband. He’s funny and considerate and respectful—very little drama. I’d like to think he’d say the same about me (maybe not the little drama part).
My son and a demogorgon.
But we find ourselves losing our minds with our son on a regular basis and it can be worrying. Our brains are wired so differently from his and it’s taking a while to thread that needle of wanting to be a parent in charge and giving him the space he needs to just be how he is.
These are the things that will drive you nuts with an ADHD kid:
A super messy room that doesn’t seem to bother them
An inability to put things away, basic things like their backpack, or shoes, or dirty clothes
Reacting volatilely to seemingly small things, like bedtime or having to finish homework
Being constantly interrupted when talking
A constant demand for attention for whatever hyper/harebrained thing they’re doing
An inability to wake up in the morning and an ability to sleep through anything, no matter how loud
Having to repeat yourself several times throughout the day and still not being listened to
I could go on. I used to think this was just what life with kids was like. Or life with boys. But my son is 12 years old now and he’s just not aged out of some things he should’ve by now.
I’ve read a few books about ADHD and it’s always so eye-opening. Things we just take for granted get thrown out the window with an ADHD kid. You think he’s not listening to you on purpose. But it’s not that. You think he’s getting super dramatic about homework to get out of having to do it. But he’s not. I didn’t fully understand what executive functioning and social dysregulation were until now. The meltdowns are real, yo.
My son and I with the most giant slice of pizza we’ve ever seen!
Sometimes the solutions to dealing with ADHD behavior go against every instinct in your body. For example, if your ADHD child is having a meltdown about something—anything—sometimes the best thing to do is just ignore them. By ignoring them you’re not adding to the problem and they’re better able to diffuse their reactions and calm down. This is the hope, anyway. But you want to do something. You either want to explode at them—“can you stop freaking out, it’s really not a big deal!”—or run to them and wrap your arms around them and try to calm them down. But no. You just need to leave them be and hope (pray) their emotions will resolve on their own, or that they’ll use some of the coping tools the therapist or the book suggested.
Don’t get me started on the teachers. I love teachers. I think they are the true heroes of society. But my son has had several teachers now who just don’t know what to do with him, throw their hands up, and then complain about things that are directly connected to his neurodiversity. “I don’t know why, but he just keeps ignoring me.” No, he isn’t, mister. One of my son’s teachers recently told him, to his face, that “he doesn’t have any common sense.” I’m sorry, what the fuck???
I work at Otis College of Art and Design and it’s an amazing school that celebrates the diversity of the students, staff, and faculty—not only demographic and socioeconomic diversity, but neurodiversity. We do a lot to foster a sense of belonging among everyone in the community, and I’ve seen this at work firsthand. I’ve heard instructors talk about the accommodations they make for their students, in some cases over half the class. I’ve heard alumni talk about advocating for themselves with their employers about needing mental health breaks during the workday.
My son in his happy place.
My son is an artist. I’m not sure if he’ll pursue his art professionally when he grows up. But I hope that as an adult he will carve a path for himself that celebrates all his wonderful talents and reflects a world that is more accepting of how he is. Meanwhile, my husband and I continue to be humbled by parenting our ADHD child. It’s meant unlearning a lot of what we read in the parenting books when we were just starting out as a family. It’s meant working against many instincts and reactions we’ve spent a lifetime doing. It’s meant throwing a lot of expectations about how we’d be as parents out the window. We’re learning anew. We’re giving ourselves grace to just figure it out as we go. And we’ll get there.