Watching My Child Learn to Advocate for Himself

Yesterday I shared a bit about my own personal experience with medication. As I’ve mentioned before, we have kids with ADHD, and right now one of my kiddos is on medication while the other is not. ADHD has shown up very differently for each of them, and our choices have reflected that.

My youngest has always been incredibly active. For a long time, people would casually say, “That’s just how boys are,” and honestly, for a while, I believed it too. I told myself he would grow out of it, that this was just normal boy energy for his age. It took time for me to realize that his energy wasn’t just big, it was more than that.

He struggled with focus, following instructions, completing tasks, and keeping his room clean. Toys, homework, shoes, they were constantly getting lost. He often appeared like he wasn’t listening, couldn’t sit still, talked and interrupted frequently, acted before thinking things through, and had very big reactions to very small frustrations. We planned outings carefully, knowing that changes could be hard for him. When plans shifted, I made sure to give him space to feel those big emotions before we adjusted. I packed extra snacks and distractions, always trying to stay one step ahead of potential overwhelm.

For a long time, I felt completely overwhelmed myself, mostly because he couldn’t yet communicate what he was feeling or why.

We started early intervention programs, and he went to preschool early to help support some of the challenges we were seeing. I was incredibly fortunate to have wonderful teachers and strong support from the school. As my youngest, I was also very involved. I volunteered with the PTA and in classrooms whenever I could, wanting to stay connected and be available if concerns came up. Being actively involved in my kids’ education has always been important to me.

I didn’t pursue formal testing until third grade. At that time, we were living in Arizona, and I began taking him to an art therapist. That space helped him work on communicating with friends, recognizing others’ feelings, and learning how to cope with disappointment.

My son is in seventh grade now, and I want to share what has helped us along the way.

We continued counseling, and we still do today. As he’s grown, his needs have changed, and so have his interactions with peers. Around fourth grade, I made the decision to pull him out of school and homeschool him. This gave us the flexibility to explore different medications and therapies without the added pressure of frequent school calls when something wasn’t quite right. I know homeschooling isn’t an option for everyone, and we were incredibly fortunate that it was an option for our family.

From fourth through sixth grade, I homeschooled him. I worked hard to find homeschool groups and social opportunities to keep him engaged, but it was exhausting. I often felt stretched thin trying to meet his needs while also keeping him stimulated and connected. Academically, he did well. Socially, though, he was missing the daily interactions he craved. He’s a true social butterfly.

By seventh grade, he told me he felt ready to return to school and really wanted to try. I won’t lie, my first reaction was emotional. “Why is my baby trying to leave me?” Once I moved past that, my next thought was more practical. Returning to the school system, especially a new one, felt overwhelming. And then, underneath all of that, came an overwhelming sense of pride.

I had spent years advocating for him, and now he was beginning to advocate for himself. That feeling is hard to put into words.

Going back to school has been an adventure. He scooters to school on his own now. For the first week, I had my oldest meet him and walk home with him because he’s still my baby and I worried. I’ll own that. We had an early issue with another student, and the teachers handled it quickly by adjusting class placements. Getting back into a school routine has been challenging. He’s exhausted at the end of the day, forgets assignments, and struggles with time management. It’s been a learning process for both of us.

We made some adjustments to support him. Two-pocket folders labeled “To Do” and “Turn In.” Tabs and folders clearly marked for each class. Weekly updates on missing assignments. That first quarter was a definite learning curve. Some days he enjoys school. Some days he misses homeschooling. We’ve already adjusted his medication once as we continue figuring out what works best.

My main goal is simple. I want him to be able to focus at school, and when he comes home, I want him to feel safe enough to relax and breathe.

Many kids hold it together all day and then completely unravel at home. With my son’s more severe ADHD, that wasn’t really our experience. His energy was constant, from morning until night. Even at bedtime, he would describe himself as a battery charged far past full, holding his hand well above his head. He truly felt like energy was spilling out of him.

We’ve worked hard to get his sleep under control. He takes medication at night to help his body slow down and get the rest it needs, and medication in the morning to help him focus during the school day. When he comes home, he eats dinner, works through homework with a few reminders and sometimes with me sitting beside him, and overall he seems happier.

We still have moments of overwhelm. We practice breathing. We pause when frustration hits. I can tell when he hasn’t taken his medication. He’s quicker to become upset and more likely to argue with his siblings. The difference is noticeable.

We talk often about how the medication makes him feel. Whether he feels better with it or without it. Most of the time, he tells me he feels better and notices that he doesn’t get into as much trouble. For now, this is the path we’ve chosen, and we’ll continue working on communication, peer relationships, and coping skills.

One thing I want to be very clear about is this: medication is a tool, not a label. It isn’t a shortcut or a life sentence. For some kids, it’s temporary. For others, it’s longer-term. What matters most is that it supports their nervous system and their individual needs. 

In our experience, medication works best when it’s paired with other supports, not used on its own. Things like consistent routines and behavioral strategies, classroom accommodations such as IEPs or 504 plans, and emotional support with intentional skill-building. Medication didn’t replace the work we were already doing. It simply made that work more accessible. It slowed things down enough for my kiddo to actually use the tools he was learning.

As my son gets older, he’s becoming better at managing himself. What I love most about medication is that it gives him confidence and focus without taking away his fun, loving personality. The goal has never been to make him quieter, easier, or more compliant. It doesn’t change who he is. It simply helps him be himself with a little less friction.