Parenting Insights
I Appreciate My Child More When He’s on Medication
by Jamie Lee
Updated: August 3, 2021
Originally Published: July 18, 2015
For three long years, we hesitated to medicate Caleb for his ADHD. Like many parents navigating this journey, we opted for the “let’s try everything else first” approach. This strategy served two main purposes: it defended us against any judgmental whispers of “lazy parenting” and it helped alleviate some of the guilt we felt about potentially resorting to medication. After all, we had truly tried everything else before making that decision.
The moment that pushed us into the “Should We Medicate?” camp was during a parent-teacher conference. My husband and I sat across from Caleb’s four teachers, who were clearly at their wit’s end. As they laid out their struggles, I felt a wave of despair wash over me. These were some of the best educators in the state, and despite their best efforts, Caleb was only completing about 40% of his assignments. His classroom behavior was chaotic, with materials scattered everywhere and constant interruptions. It was evident that their attempts to reach him had compromised the learning experience for other students. After that meeting, I went home and cried. We needed to do something—our previous methods just weren’t cutting it.
Caleb started on 10 mg of Focalin on a Tuesday. Within just fifteen minutes, I began to notice subtle but significant changes. When I asked him to put on his shoes, they were already on. When I said it was time to get in the car, he did so without hesitation (what??). During our drive, he gazed thoughtfully out the window. Was he turning into a zombie? But when I inquired about his thoughts, he shared a detailed plan for his next Minecraft creation. Who was this articulate child speaking in concise bullet points?
When he got home that day, he walked in, neatly placed his shoes in the laundry room, unpacked his backpack, and headed straight for his homework. His younger sister was making a ruckus, and for the first time, he calmly asked her to be quiet so he could concentrate. He completed his homework in record time and dashed out to play with friends.
The next day, I asked Caleb to clear the kitchen table, and to my astonishment, he had done it by the time I glanced back. I realized then that I wasn’t just witnessing a transformation in him; I had been impacted too. ADHD had taken a toll on all of us, especially me, as his primary caregiver. I had spent years worrying that the negative feedback Caleb received at school would lead him to believe he wasn’t good enough. This concern was valid, but I had neglected to see how ADHD had conditioned me as well. I had grown to expect that Caleb would always struggle with tasks, leading me to become overly demanding and impatient.
In short, I had inadvertently trained myself to be annoyed with my own child. It was a shocking realization; I hadn’t even recognized it until now.
That Thursday morning, Caleb utilized his multiplication flashcards in the car, reciting each one aloud. He sorted through them, eliminating the ones he already knew, and then announced, “Mom, let me know when a minute is up. I’m going to think about something else for a minute, then I’ll see if I still remember everything.” A wave of emotion overwhelmed me—he reminded me of myself! It was the first time I felt a real genetic connection to him, and it was powerful.
Later that day, I picked Caleb up from chess club (yes, it’s super cool), and I bumped into his reading and social studies teacher. She excitedly shared how well he had been doing, practically vibrating with joy as she showed me a writing sample that resembled a science textbook! Caleb eagerly interrupted her with an array of questions about the fire alarm on the ceiling, maintaining eye contact as he engaged her. We exchanged glances, both teary-eyed at this breakthrough.
For years, I viewed myself as impatient and reactive—a yeller, a toy-thrower. I often doubted my capability as a mother. However, since Caleb started medication, I’ve found that I can enjoy a calmer, more attentive version of him for two or three hours after school. With both kids behaving as expected, I discovered a hidden reservoir of patience within myself that I had forgotten existed.
Yet, I grappled with a troubling thought: I like my son more when he’s on medication. He’s more focused, easier to communicate with, and organized. Even more puzzling, I like myself better when he’s on meds. I’m less likely to yell, able to think clearly, and I’m not as easily frustrated.
But this raises questions—does medicating Caleb change who he truly is? Have I pushed him toward conformity to make my life easier? Am I the one benefiting here?
After six weeks on medication, I’ve gained some perspective. We’ve chosen not to medicate on weekends, and I’ve been pleasantly surprised by my patience when he’s off the meds. I believe the weekday medication helps me navigate the challenges of ADHD, making me more emotionally equipped for the occasional hiccups over the weekend. Caleb himself has expressed that school is enjoyable now that he feels competent. He’s thrilled to learn, and he’s happy his teachers are no longer constantly on his case.
I remind myself that medication doesn’t alter Caleb’s essence—it simply clears the mental clutter, allowing him to express the wonderful person he already is. That’s what I’m telling myself.
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Summary: This piece reflects on a mother’s journey with her son’s ADHD, detailing their initial resistance to medication, the transformative effects of Focalin, and the emotional complexities surrounding his treatment. Through her experiences, she discovers newfound patience and appreciation for both herself and her son, questioning the implications of medication while ultimately recognizing its benefits.