I have two sons, who from a very young age have always been full of excitement, life, energy, questions about our big wide world, they are also filled with creative ideas and frustrations.

I believe as much as ADHD is talked about today, everyone has heard of it, and it seems everyone has an opinion about it, yet only a small number of people understand what it is like to live with it.

I remember reading a book about “spirited” children, children who had ADHD.  I liked the adjective that was being used to describe children who were living with ADHD.  However, in this book they referred to ADHD multiple times as a disability.  I never thought about it as a disability.

When my oldest son, “R” was in 4th grade, a case manager in school approached me and stated, “R, has trouble focusing in class, and he moves a lot in his seat.” I explained it was due to his ADHD.  The case manager then stated, “he is a “special needs” child and belongs in “special needs” class.”  I was shocked. I was hurt and annoyed that she called my child a “special needs” child. Special needs?  “R “was 10 years old, and this was the first time anyone eluded to the fact that he was “special needs”, I would think a doctor would have pointed this out years ago if it were true.

“R” may have been awkward, and perhaps a bit immature, he was missing teeth, tall and skinny, but to me, that all spelled Normal! It was later when my head was spinning bit less that I began to think about my son.  Was he normal? Had everyone including his pediatrician missed something? He was healthy as a child. He was a healthy baby.  Yes, he had multiple ear infections and tubes in his ears, but does that make him “special needs”? No.  He’s normal. Then it hit me. . .

I remembered the books I had read years before, “he is spirited”.  I know “R” is silly, but most 10-year old kids are.  “R” is playful, and kind, he repeats himself a lot but that is just to make sure we are listening.  He repeats himself so much we must tell him, “R” we heard you, we answered you, we get what you are saying… please stop! And that is when he looks at us confused, “I didn’t do anything mommy.”  He is constantly moving, he doesn’t sit still but then again, most boys don’t.  At least that’s what people tell me when I say, “R” won’t stop… “that’s boys for you, always into something”, they would reply.

I think about his daily living activities and realize he cannot concentrate on most tasks like doing his homework or cleaning his room. However, when it comes to television, his Nintendo DS and Minecraft, “R” hyper-focuses. Other things I realized were “R” was not able to have a conversation without interrupting, asking questions, or changing the subject. Then again, I am like that at times too.  Am I special needs? “R” is funny, he doesn’t even have to try, and he loves to make people laugh more than anything, but he does not know when to stop. In fact, he doesn’t know when to stop with a lot of things, when the fun stops, “R” doesn’t.

I remember his 2nd grade teacher telling me, “R is such a pleasure to have in class. He is funny, and outgoing he is so sweet, but he is very fidgety, he is silly and unfocused too. I need him to learn to sit still, stay focused and learn when enough is enough.  I started to think of these words, he is too unfocused, too fidgety, too silly. . . he is too much. But I never viewed him this way.  To me he was my quirky little boy.

I was forever being pulled in so many directions by so many people telling me he just needs more ______.” You can fill in the blanks with discipline, restrictions, schedules, consequences, rules.  What all these well-meaning people didn’t realize or believe is this: I implemented all the above and nothing ever fazed him.  Harder, more regimented ways, schedules even reward systems just didn’t work with “R”, I had tried all these things numerous times.  Yet, the judgment and “well-meaning” criticism, left me feeling like a failure.

I cannot begin to tell you how many days, I wake up feeling like a failure. How many times I start my days with good intentions, hopes, plans and patience. I end my days feeling like I am behind on tasks, forgetful, impatient, hopeless, and lost.

The people who tend to give me the advice to “do more” don’t get it, they don’t realize what it is like to watch my son, who I am responsible for and trying hard to raise into a functioning adult, struggle. Every. Single. Day. To watch him be told that he’s not doing it right, not doing enough, that he’s lacking, he is failing, simply because he is himself. I see “R’s” eyes drop to the floor as he is told these things by the “well-meaning” people who deal with him daily.  I see “R’s” self-esteem drop, and what I have left to give at the end of a long hard day, isn’t enough to undo all the damage that is being done.

Lately there’s been a shift in my thinking. It may have taken me all of his 16 years on year to reach this new way of thinking, but I am more rested the older he gets, still not anywhere near being “fully rested”, so let’s not got it twisted, but at this point I do have to do less for “R” and “T” and I get a little down time and steal these moments to try to regroup and rest.

So, my new attitude has been, “Special Needs? I don’t think so”.  The more time I spend with my son, the more I know everyone has it wrong.  Yes, he has anxiety, he has ADHD, but do not tell me my child is not “normal”. Who the heck defines normal anyway? I see the kids in his school, they are all teens who like music, sports, YouTube, hanging out, etc. and guess what? So, does “R!” I find myself hating the word “normal.”

“Normal” is not a thing that people should set as a goal, because normal is only what you are used to, normal is different for each person.  My son is normal.

My son is creative, he is a big out of the box thinker.  He lives by the phrase, “If you are going to be a dog, be a BIG dog!” And, he goes BIG or goes home with all he does.