Full disclosure: If you’re one of those “ADHD doesn’t exist” people and you’re comfortable in that space, this blog (the whole thing, not just this post) is probably not for you.
With my house full of people at all hours of the day since the pandemic struck, I’ve been thinking a lot about my parenting toolbox. I recently read an article on the subject of parenting with ADHD on the ADDitude magazine website because I was feeling pretty inadequate. I forget things. I get impatient and lose my temper. Sometimes I lose track of time and end up in a hurry to get the kids out the door lest we miss an appointment, and then I lose my temper because: shoes, coat, shoes, mask, shoes, hair, seriously… shoes! My kids need me to serve as their personal assistant and life coach because they can’t always keep themselves on track… but I’m not so good at it either.
Anyway, studies show that moms with ADHD don’t exactly tick all the boxes for what is conventionally considered great parenting, but when we’re raising kids who also have ADHD, we tend to be more affectionate and compassionate than a neurotypical parent. That makes sense. We are better positioned to know what they’re working with. Also, that’s great news because, “research has shown that ADHD is more heritable than most other mental conditions, only slightly less so than height” according to the same article.
If you didn’t already know (or guess), many (if not all) of the brains in my house are on the ADHD train, mine and my partner’s included. The soon-to-be-eight-year-old struggles the most, and it is my parenting of him that particularly worries me.
I like the metaphor of “the ADHD train”. It works because ADHD often makes me feel like the world is flying by and I can only take in what’s outside my window… but it’s going by so fast that I can’t grasp it. It all feels like a disorganized blur, and I often miss important things as they pass. It’s stressful because I know I’m going to miss my stop if I can’t even tell what’s passing, and sometimes the stress of trying to see things out that window makes me moody. My bullet journal is like having a map with a list of the stops, so I know what to expect and what I need to do on this train. Meditation feels like taking a photo out the window. I can capture a moment in time and reflect on it and get a better idea of what’s going on in that moment, but it doesn’t mean things aren’t still a blur the rest of the time. My medication can help slow the train down for hours at a time so I can see more of what is happening outside. Maybe now I can see that the green blur is made up of trees and fields, but I still can’t see all the details.
Nothing I’ve tried has been completely effective or fool-proof but that’s okay. It’s still far better than it could be.
I look back on my childhood and remember teachers seeing my high test scores and low classwork scores and asking me, “why don’t you just try harder?” I heard my mom tell stories of my dad being upset that my sister learned the alphabet so much faster than me. He couldn’t see that it was because I wouldn’t sit still and “pay attention”. I didn’t get to have a job as a teenager because my mom was worried about my grades. When I told my dad I couldn’t concentrate on my homework, he insisted I was just making excuses because the house was definitely quieter than my school, where I was seemingly able to get things done. It all came together to convince me that I must be just as well-equipped for compulsory school (and life) as everyone else… I just needed to try harder, or figure out what other people were doing differently.
Metaphorically, I thought everyone was on the same train, going the same speed, taking in information through the same window, but they had figured out some trick that I hadn’t.
That put a lot of pressure on me. I wanted to do better, but I couldn’t remember to bring my homework home once it went into my locker. If it stayed in my backpack, I couldn’t remember that it was there. I’d have every intention of completing it when I received it, but even if it did make it to my desk, I’d get distracted by cleaning my desk, then my room, then taking a shower, then… what was I supposed to be doing?
My two diagnosed children are both in elementary school. They don’t have lockers in which to lose their homework. They’re in a Montessori, where I thought they’d have a bit more flexibility to be themselves. Still, I see the struggles cropping up. They repeatedly impulsively say or do things that alienate them or get them in trouble. Sometimes they hyper-focus on one task for most of the day and the teacher can’t get them to do anything else. My eleven-year-old (M) is convinced she’s bad at math, but the time I’ve spent with her this year has shown me that she’s exactly where she should be in terms of skills, and even enjoys it. She just can’t stay on task long enough to work out a word problem or do long division without reminders.
It’s like she’s staring out the train window and being asked to describe the houses in the last town it passed through instead of watching the present scenery.
My eight-year-old (E) has tried a medication, but we felt that he was struggling even more than when he was un-medicated. I think that might have been because the chemicals were wearing off by the time he got home. Now, he’s in play therapy, where his therapist is trying to use the relaxed environment to help him build coping skills and social skills. M is receiving services through school. She sees an occupational therapist and also has a special social-emotional learning session once per week. I’ve seen both of them improve significantly in their self-confidence and problem-solving this year.
They basically have a team of people whose job it is to teach them which parts of the blur out the window are important to take note of, so they know where they are.
I wasn’t diagnosed until I was 30. It’s been a few years and I’m still learning new things about my brain. Sometimes I come across articles or videos that connect yet another part of my personality to my ADHD and they make me feel less alone. Recently, I learned that people with ADHD tend to have a poor working concept of object perminance. The person in the video explained that this is why they can’t put their vegetables in the crisper drawer: if you can’t see it, it isn’t there. You’ll never think about it. It’ll all just mold, forgotten in the darkness. It’s an affect of our poor short-term memory. I do things like this many times every day.
I try to get my kids outside, where things are happening at a slower pace and nothing is demanding their attention. Bonus: in a sufficiently large outdoor space, they can be as loud as they want, run as fast as they want, climb anything they can get a foothold on, get dirty, build huge things, and generally not face any consequences! They also get a little chunk of screen time every day (provided they’ve finished their chores) because I know that they crave dopamine and Minecraft and Castle Crashers and videos about sharks feel good. Chores come first, though, because they also need to be encouraged to complete tasks they aren’t interested in, like folding laundry and cleaning their bathroom. That’s part of life, and we can’t be functional adults if we don’t learn to power our way through tedious tasks sometimes.
Our pandemic homeschool structure was built to work for them, too. Summer was an opportunity for me to research and plan for this year, so I know what goals they should be reaching. I used that information to create charts with days of the week across the top and subjects down the side. At the bottom, there’s a note explaining that they need to do an activity in each subject at least twice in a week. They check with me to see if the activity they want to do will count for a subject, and when they’ve finished an activity they check a box on the chart with a dry erase marker. They can see what is complete and what still needs doing. They also get that satisfaction that comes with ticking something off of a list and seeing all those tick marks piling up. If they can’t come up with an acceptable activity, I can use the chart to find one for them. E, in second grade this year, relies pretty heavily on my help coming up with lessons. M, a fifth-grader, still wants help sometimes but often comes up with her own ideas for science and world studies.
Honestly, I don’t think of the things we do as being very different from what any parent might do for their kids. We have laminated lists of things they must do before bed, before school, and before they can earn screen time. We have a structured, but reasonably flexible schedule. We have a routine of fruits with lunch and vegetables with dinner, so they know what to expect. Reading is encouraged, but not during meals. Before the pandemic, we required that each kid choose and regularly attend one physical activity class (it was swimming for M and E, dance for the older two).
There’s a lot of impulsive breaking of rules and poor decision making. E has cut a single chunk of his hair without thinking about it on multiple occasions, then panicked as soon as he realized what he did. M has broken her glasses out of anger twice. E runs down the hallway most times even though I’ve tried everything I can think of (short of trip wires) to get him to stop. M frequently loses all track of time and stays up far too late reading if we don’t remind her to go to bed. E can’t seem to help but interrupt, even if what you’re saying is the answer to his previous question or you’re currently telling him to stop interrupting. M goes through periods of sneaking desserts from the kitchen and getting caught because the wrappers are still in her bed.
It’s frustrating, but I understand it, and knowing that we’re all on the same train makes a huge difference for how I respond. “Take a breath and then we’ll talk.” “Slow down. Let’s think about this.” “What do you think went wrong?” “I can wait until you’re ready to talk.” But sometimes I still find myself saying things like, “pay attention” and “try harder”. I just try to keep them light-hearted and in the context of my continued patience and assistance. I can’t say I’m not guilty of snapping from time to time. I’m human and I get exhausted and moody and reach my limits like anyone else. I just hope I’m giving them a better chance of developing a healthy relationship with their challenges earlier than I did.
Master Mama Blog Home 