Double Diagnoses — Stuff I’ve Learned (by Sharing ADHD with My Kids) that Made Me a Better Mom
Every other work week, I clock out at 5:30 p.m. and drive to my son’s school to pick him up from after-school care. He stuffs his stuff into his backpack and packs that into the car and off we go. His backpack contains whatever book he’s been reading. Every night when I tuck him in, he remembers he forgot to bring the book inside. For the record, every evening when we pull into the driveway, I say to him, “A.J., you might want to bring your book inside so you won’t have to deal with that at bedtime.” He replies, “Okay.” Yet, sometime between unfastening his seat belt and crawling out of the car, the book slips his mind. And mine.
I thought at first that he was just trying to carve a couple minutes off of his bedtime, but he hates having to go out to the car for his book and he can’t fall asleep without reading. The truth is, he forgets. Every day.
I found myself getting frustrated with him, wondering how such a bright kid never, ever managed to get that daily detail right.
But just the other night, I was wandering the grocery store parking lot trying to remember where I’d parked the car. Just like I do every, single time I go shopping. And as I searched, I made a mental note to check the aisle number next time, so I wouldn’t get lost again. Just like I do every time I’m wandering the grocery store parking lot trying to remember where I parked the car.
A mental note that would never be put to use.
OH, ADHD.
YOU BITCH.
ALL IN THE FAMILY
Our household, which consists of my two kids; their lop-eared bunny, Lucy; and me, has the collective attention span of a drunken fruit fly. I was diagnosed with ADHD (along with a host of other, less productive disorders) my freshman year of college, when I realized that I was literally incapable of sitting through an entire lecture. Anywhere. About any topic. I’d always done exceptionally well in school because I knew how to use our textbooks and worksheets and notes to learn the concepts raised in class without actually paying attention in class. College was different. I was learning things I’d never been taught before (or I was supposed to be, anyway), rather than reviewing information I’d already been introduced to, and I found it required a lot more concentration and focus learning new stuff than it had just pressing repeat.
For the first time in my life, I found I couldn’t manage. Anything. There was just TOO MUCH. I was overloaded and no amount of organization helped, because I couldn’t stick to it, no matter how hard I tried.
After graduating high school without a single B, second in my class, it took me 10 years to finish my bachelor’s degree.
My daughter was diagnosed with ADHD, at 5. While I present with primarily the inattentive type, she was primarily hyperactive. This meant that although she was bright, she struggled mightily in school. She spent the first day of Kindergarten in the principal’s office. Then, the first week. And for a while, that’s how it went. I was against medicating my child, and for two years I refused. By second grade, though, I had to concede and give it a try. Changing her diet hadn’t helped. Structuring her life hadn’t helped (I was still married then; it’s a lot easier to stick to schedule when two people are working on it together). Lainie was on medication until she got to sixth grade. She was heavily into athletics by then, and that seemed to really help her. She started refusing the meds, so we let her stop on the condition that her behavior not slip at school. She’s still hyper, and I think she could perform better at school with medication, but it’s not severe enough for me to force it on her. She just started high school this fall, and as long as we keep her busy in music and sports, she seems to cope fine.
My son hit the ADHD lottery. He’s hyper and supremely inattentive (except when he’s hyperfocused. Don’t even TRY to talk to him when he’s into something.) and though we just had him formally tested about a year ago, he’s struggled so hard since he started school. There are reasons other than ADHD: he’s scary smart and easily bored, etc. But let’s focus on the ADHD. Because since my divorce in 2010, I’ve been trying to parent two kids with the diagnosis, while balancing my own diagnosis.
And I don’t think enough people talk about how freaking hard that really is.
All the literature says that the most important thing I can do to help my kids succeed at life is to provide them with a predictable, structured, organized environment.
Um. Hold on, I’ll be right back, okay?
(Takes a brief pause. Or means to. Actually ends up checking to see if the dishwasher is draining tonight. It isn’t, so that has to be fixed. While there, realizes kitchen hasn’t been cleaned since yesterday. Cleans kitchen. Makes toast and can’t type with toast so turns on Grey’s Anatomy rerun. The one that causes tears. Gets sucked in and watches 3 episodes before finally finding way back here. It’s now 10:30 p.m. and intro is still not finished. Reminds self that this piece was actually first started last April. Vows to finish it tonight if it kills her. Sighs. )
Where was I? Oh, yeah.
Predictable, structured, organized environment.
That’s the secret to my son’s success. So, I’ve failed him already. If that’s what it’s about, he’s doomed. And before you judge me as lazy or unmotivated or unfit, know that I’ve read EVERYTHING about organizing your ADHD child. Every online article. Every book. Every published academic study. I’ve implemented a dozen or more unique systems of organization. I’ve used the creative angle from Pinterest, and the research-proven steps endorsed by the CDC. I’ve changed diet. Sleep. Water intake. I’ve used checklists, and checked for understanding. I’ve done everything in my power to conform to what the masses tell me works for kids like my kid.
And it has.
Worked. Sort of.
For the month or two we were able to keep it up. Remember, my son is with me every other week. Do you know how hard it is for two people with pretty severe attention issues to carry plans like that over from week (ooh, now skip a week) to WEEK?
We both just kept feeling more and more like failures. And that was the opposite result to the one I was trying to achieve with my son. I wanted to empower him. I wanted to support him. I wanted home to be a safe place, where he felt capable, and loved, and needed. And I was failing. I vowed that if I couldn’t find answers in the literature, I would find some answers in my home.
I don’t know if I’ve succeeded in finding real answers yet, but I figured it was time for a mid-term report on the subject. Because things have DEFINITELY improved. So, here are a few changes I’ve made that have helped my kids and me relax and enjoy life a little more.
If in doubt, ask your child what he needs to be able to accomplish the task at hand.
One morning, we were running late, as usual. I was so frustrated and frantic that I was basically just barking orders at this sweet little man I love so dearly. I was at my wits end and trying not to lose my cool, so I took a deep breath and I said, “What would help you to finish getting ready without us being upset?”
I had been approaching the task of parenthood as if I knew the answers just because I was the parent and that was my job. But when I asked AJ for his input, I was surprised by his response:
What would help you, AJ?
Please just calm down, Mama. If you calm down, things slow down, and I move faster.
Ooohhhh…yeah. Didn’t realize that was the case. Glad I asked.
You wanna know what? That was over 2 years ago and I don’t think we’ve had an unpleasant school morning since then. And I learned never to assume that just because I did more reading on the subject, I have the better insight. Because that, up there? Pretty insightful for a 7 year-old. For anyone.
Adjust your expectations.
My kids are so completely different. But I only have the two, so when AJ came around, all I knew was what parenting his sister had taught me. And I hadn’t yet realized that ADHD was such a spectrum disorder. There are as many presentations as there are stars in the sky. Snowflakes. Human beings.
Not necessarily in that order.
My daughter required a heavy parental presence. As in, I had to spend a lot of time being the heavy.
She was assertive, and confrontational, and I never had to wonder how she felt about anything. She let me know.
AJ kept his feelings hidden. He was more passive, and a total people pleaser. And I was so used to my daughter just having all the feels all over the place all of the time, I think I waited for my son to show me how he felt before I addressed issues. Except, he didn’t. He just grew more unhappy and didn’t tell anyone. It came out in little ways. He started chewing through his shirts, and he wet the bed. And that’s how I found out he was absolutely miserable at school. I found out that his teacher had been singling him out. She was engaging in behavior I found bordered on abuse. The kids started with a certain number of points every morning and tried to keep them to avoid consequences. AJ started the morning with fewer points than the rest of the children. That’s just one example.
We addressed this with the school and took care of it, and the whole thing puts me in a terrible mood so I’m not going to focus on it here, but I learned that day that I’d been expecting things from my son that weren’t realistic. They were unfair.
So, of course, I immediately hated myself and thought I shouldn’t be allowed to have children, because I expected perfection from me.
I got to adjust my expectations for the kids. For myself. Even for the Kindergarten teacher from Hell.
When I did that, what I came to realize was that my son is a whole lot like his mama. Once I realized THAT, everything got easier.
BECAUSE
We may be disorganized, but we understand each other.
To this, I say, FUCK ORGANIZED.
Because right here? This is where I get to work magic. I get to turn deficits into strengths. I get to turn tears into laughter. If I have to relax a little about the clothes not getting folded, or the beds never being made, so be it.
BECAUSE MY PRIMARY JOB AS A PARENT IS TO VALIDATE MY CHILD’S LIFE EXPERIENCES.
And while validation doesn’t require my understanding (I validate my daughter’s thoughts and feelings too, and I don’t get her NEARLY as easily), I find it means something to AJ knowing that not only am I acknowledging that his perceptions are valid, but that I share many of those perceptions.
When AJ comes home in tears because he ONCE AGAIN forgot to bring his homework folder home, even though we had fail safes in place, I can tell him I forgot AGAIN to bring home the notes I’ve been meaning to transcribe since last month. We laugh.
And when he tells me he got in trouble AGAIN because he couldn’t focus on his work during small group time because all of the little discussions happening all around him were too distracting, and he tried to get the teacher to let him sit alone with headphones on and work things out that way, but the teacher said no headphones, I GET TO VALIDATE HIM.
Because if I wasn’t allowed to wear headphones at work to tune everyone out,
I WOULDN’T HAVE A JOB.
BY THE WAY…
Here’s where I tell all the people who have decided that ADHD is an excuse diagnosis for parents who let their kids run wild and act like animals-
SCREW YOU.
Because there is NOTHING about life being this damned hard that a parent would willingly nurture in a child.
And since most of his experiences right now occur in an educational setting, there is one more point of growth I’d like to touch upon before I can’t stand concentrating on this subject anymore.
The relationship between me and my kids’ teachers is crucial. And I come from a family of teachers, so I believe wholeheartedly in presenting a unified front to the kids, no matter how much I may personally dislike a teacher.
But there’s a line. And if it’s crossed, then get ready for mama bear.
I will always tell my children to treat their teachers with respect. No matter what. But if an educator is not treating my child with respect, they can expect to hear from me. Hopefully, we can come to a reasonable compromise. But if we’re even talking about it, something serious has occurred. Because I’m not a reactionary parent.
My kids are FAR from perfect. And they have to learn to navigate the world as it is, not as we wish it was. I want them to develop problem solving skills. It takes something pretty serious for me to come running to the rescue, but in the end,
Disorganized or not,
I AM THE PERSON STANDING BETWEEN THEM AND THE UGLY STUFF.
and I would like to keep them from it for as long as possible.
And even with a house full of NO ATTENTION SPAN WHATSOEVER,
