Coming Clean

I just found out it's ADHD awareness week. I had no idea there was an ADHD awareness week, but it seems like an opportune time to tell you about something I've been going back and forth on sharing. On one hand, I try to be pretty honest about our lives. On the other, this is a polarizing subject that invites a lot of criticism. And I don't particularly want to be criticized for something that is a personal decision made in, what we feel, is the best interest of our child. That being said, in the spirit of keeping it real, here's the story.

My Will, my sweet, funny, precious Will, has always been a live wire. From the time he could walk, he never stood still. He never sat through a story or an entire tv show. He never, literally never, sat down and played with toys. And most frightening, he never, ever shied away from danger of any sort. Whether it was escaping the house while I was cooking dinner and strolling down the street, or attempting to stick an assortment of interesting objects in the electrical sockets, Will was going to do it over and over. And no amount of admonishment or punishment was going to stop him.

We thought it would get better as he got older. It got worse. We felt like we spent every moment of the day fussing at him or punishing him- trying with all our might to get him to listen and behave, all to no avail. We were at our wit's end. And we were even more frustrated that we couldn't figure out why he was like this. The other boys weren't. Sure, they'd get into stuff, but they'd (mostly) listen when we got onto them. And they could focus on activities for long periods of time. At two years old, Hays would sit and play with cars for close to an hour at a time, just as happy as a clam. But Will just cruised around the house, all the time, looking for something to get into.

It came to a head this summer. Matt and I went out of town for a week and left the kids with their grandparents. When we got back, they told us how hard it was to deal with Will. How he just would not listen, had no fear of anything- no matter how dangerous, how they felt like they couldn't take their eyes off him for a single second. That's when I realized that it wasn't just me, and that we might truly have a problem.

After a disastrous attempt at Bible school, I had finally reached the breaking point. I called my pediatrician, at the end of my rope, begging for advice on how to deal with this child. His response was, "I've been kind of waiting for this call." I wasn't sure what to feel- relief that I wasn't just a crappy mother that couldn't control her child, dismay at the fact that there truly was a problem. I was conflicted.

I was even more conflicted when he suggested that we try putting Will on a very small dose of Ritalin. I've always been in the camp of "parents medicate their children way too often." And here I was considering that very thing. Not to mention, my kid is little- much younger than most kids are when they start taking Ritalin. But I trust our doctor, and I was desperate for a solution. So after some soul-searching, and advice calls to parents, sisters, and friends, we decided to give it a shot.  (An aside here. Many pediatricians won't prescribe Ritalin to a three year old. But my pediatrician knows us very well. Keep in mind that we didn't go more than 10 days without a visit to his office during last year's winter of illness. He knows Will, has seen his behavior progress, and he is a very, very cautious doctor. So in the event that anyone thinks that he is, in any way, a pill-pushing, quick-fix kind of guy- don't. He is amazing- the most sought after pediatrician in our area, and I literally trust him with their lives.)

So we started him on Ritalin- and it was amazing. It was like someone flipped a switch. Not personality-wise. I can assure you it did not diminish his essential "Will-ness" one bit. He's still silly, funny, energetic, loud, rambunctious and wonderful. But it turned off those parts that worried us so much. We finally started to see some much-needed impulse control. Oh sure, he'll still jump off the couch and run with sticks, but he won't try to stick a screwdriver in the outlet anymore. He started to listen and follow directions (most of the time). And he could actually focus on things instead of cruising restlessly all day long. He listens to stories, he'll build amazing block towers, he'll sit down and play with cars or dinosaurs for a half hour or more- it was the most astonishing, wonderful change. Now we could spend more time praising him than reprimanding. And that was such a blessing, because my charming Will loves to please people. And it was so hard for him to always be in trouble.

That was about four months ago, and the quality of life for our family has improved immeasurably. Will is happier. Matt and I don't feel like we're at the end of our rope all the time. (Well, I still frequently do, but I blame that on being the mother of three little boys, rather than on one particular boy!) Mason and Hays are happier because they get more attention and Will doesn't drive them crazy all the time by wrecking their stuff. Life is better, and it's because of Ritalin.

I still think there are a lot of children that are unnecessarily medicated. And I know that Ritalin isn't a perfect solution. Trust me, I've read the articles, I know the risks, I have my concerns. But right now, the benefits outweigh them. So that's what we're doing. And I'm sure some people will think I'm wrong, or worse, that I'm a bad mother. I'm okay with that because I truly, in my heart of hearts, think I'm doing what's best for my child. And that's all any of us can do, right?