Attention deficit may explain my eight-year-old's misbehavior — but now that medication helps him control his impulses, it doesn't let him off the hook.
by Samantha Hines
My eight-year-old son Edgar does not always behave well. Neither do his brothers, but he has ADHD and they do not, so his behaviors and actions are under closer scrutiny than those of his siblings. Though I might initially like to stomp my foot and say, “That’s not fair,” I think it actually is. As a teacher and a parent — as a human being — I have subscribed to the notion that fair is not everyone getting the same treatment, but everyone getting what they need.
Edgar’s brothers’ behavior is generally not under anyone’s microscope because they are not currently going through a process of unlearning and relearning. Before Edgar’s ADHD diagnosis, and subsequent medical regimen, his transgressions did not respond to correction. You could tell him on Monday that he was not allowed to behave a certain way in a certain setting. By Wednesday, he either would have forgotten the conversation or impulsively repeated the undesirable behavior.
Once medication was introduced, Edgar suddenly, and for the first time, seemed to understand his behavior and the ways it affected others. He used words such as "overreaction" to explain why he threw a pencil across the dining room when he learned we were having chicken instead of pasta for dinner. He, at last, seemed to understand the purpose behind the consequences.
Despite a successful medical regimen, his prescription is far from a panacea. It is wrong for Edgar and us to see it as such. Medication is a tool that opens doors for him, but it does not excuse him, or his parents, from the work that needs to be done.
Recently, Edgar was asked by a family member to stop playing a game that had captivated his attention to the point of his ignoring the existence of anyone else. She needed him to clean up a mess he had left behind and forgotten about in another room. It was a simple, reasonable request, but at that moment Edgar did not see it that way. He lashed out verbally, and, instead of cleaning the mess, made it worse.
I removed him from the situation, cleaned up the mess myself, and made our goodbyes. I spoke to Edgar in the car and informed him of the consequence for his behavior. As I was doing so, his four-year-old brother said, in a moment of sibling solidarity, “But, Mom, Edgar has ADHD.” My reply was simple: “Edgar’s ADHD is an explanation, but it is never an excuse.”
Edgar served his consequence, and, because of the medication he takes, was able to understand why his behavior was not acceptable. Will there be transgressions in the future — perhaps another one tomorrow? Absolutely. But he — along with the rest of us — is learning.