VOICE: CATE WHITE
Life one step at a time What adding ADHD to the mix does to a family
I
have three children, two boys and a little girl. Though raised in the same home, by the same parents, with the same values, guidelines and general upbringing, they couldn’t be more different from one another.
The youngest, being a girl, is different by default and the fact that she’s my third, nearly seven years after having my first. I am not nearly as anxious or nervous as I was the first time around. My middle child is smart and athletic, but wouldn’t look you in the eye if you paid him because he’s also very shy. My oldest, my dear sweet oldest child; to say he has been active since birth is an understatement. The boy is just 8 and has already run a 5K, he barely sleeps, has more ideas than a dictionary has words and often tries to do them all at once. He is kind and hilarious and smart and outgoing. But he is also easily distracted, extremely sensitive, and often cannot focus. He has ADHD, and although he is the one with the diagnosis, it impacts our entire family. When he was younger, I could rarely do playdates at museums or festivals. He was signed up for gymnastics, swimming, preschool and camp all by the time he was 3, just so that I could keep him busy. I was that parent who couldn’t relax at the park. I couldn’t have a conversation with you, not because I was an overbearing helicopter parent but because my oldest would see something shiny outside the park and run for it without thinking. Dropping my guard for even one instant was not an option. After the official diagnosis when he was around 5, we worked with a family therapist to establish routines, to set up charts so that he could manage his own tasks. These all helped a little bit, but it still wasn’t easy. When he turned 6½, we decided to try what I was told was the milder medicine to treat ADHD. It’s not a stimulant, but an off-label drug
that would help “take the edge off.” Great, I thought, can I have some? It wasn’t life-altering, but it worked. He got ready for school in the mornings without collapsing on the floor in tears. He could do his homework after school by himself. He could get in the shower, most nights, without argument. More importantly, he felt good about himself. It’s hard, but when you’re young and you have ADHD, you hear “no” a lot. Don’t do that, don’t touch that, don’t run, etc. I try really hard to keep things positive, but let’s face it, if he’s about to burn himself or get hit by something, you’re going to yell, “NO!” Also our family was able to take a break. We could go out with all five of us. We could enjoy a museum or a park and not worry that our oldest was going to have a meltdown or run away or just plain lose it. So when we learned that his body couldn’t process the medication safely, we were back to Square One. He was back to having a ton of problems with self-regulation; I was back to having to be hyper-vigilant and hyper-aware of his surroundings, routine and diet. There is an old saying, “you’re only as happy as your unhappiest child.” I couldn’t find this phrase to be more accurate. Our oldest’s ADHD sets the mood, for better or worse, in our home. I worry about him constantly. I will admit, I worry about him more than I worry about the other two. I worry that he won’t do well in school, that he’ll make a horrible
We keep trying to hug more and yell less. We try to be understanding and calm and to love each and every child for their uniqueness. decision when he’s a teenager that affects the entire rest of his life. I worry that he won’t find friends, and I worry that he isn’t happy and that he doesn’t feel good about himself. My worry for my oldest then turns into worry for the other two. Am I paying them enough attention, am I too strict with them, do they think I care more about their brother? “Mom guilt” doesn’t even begin to cover it. So what do we do about all this? Honestly, nothing. We just keep trying. We keep trying organization charts, chore charts and sticker charts. We keep trying to hug more and yell less. We try to be understanding and calm and to love each and every child for their uniqueness. Just as my oldest tries his hardest to remember to put his shoes on in the morning, I try my hardest not to get frustrated when he hasn’t for the 18th day in row. One foot in front of the other. Cate White is a Chicago mom of three, ages 8, 7 and nearly 2.
36 March 2016 ChicagoParent.com
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