October is ADHD Awareness Month, and after sharing about dyslexia in honor of Bella, I couldn’t let the month pass without talking about ADHD. Just like dyslexia, we have a very personal, front row seat to it in our home.
I’ve shared about our journey before in ADHD: Parenting The Tension and The Beauty in ADHD: Not Just What It Takes, But What It Gives. But today I want to talk about something I’ve been thinking about more lately: ADHD as a neurodevelopmental disorder and what that actually means.
ADHD belongs to the same broad family of neurodevelopmental conditions as autism, dyslexia, Tourette syndrome, and speech and language disorders. While each condition is unique, they all involve differences in how the brain develops and functions. That means Bella’s dyslexia and Aidan’s ADHD are connected in a way I hadn’t fully considered before, even though they look very different in our home.
ADHD can also qualify as a disability, something I don’t think everyone fully realizes. And yet, we don’t always respond to ADHD with the same understanding or compassion we extend to other learning and developmental differences.
And here’s what I find interesting. Most of us recognize that a child with dyslexia needs a different approach to learning to read. But when a child with ADHD struggles with organization, emotional regulation, remembering responsibilities, or following directions, we often see it as a behavior problem instead of recognizing that their brain processes things differently.
A forgotten assignment looks like irresponsibility. Difficulty getting started looks like laziness. An impulsive reaction looks like disrespect. And struggling to follow instructions looks like disobedience.
Now, I’m not saying ADHD is an excuse for poor behavior or that we shouldn’t have expectations. We absolutely should. But there’s a difference between a child who won’t do something and a child who is genuinely struggling with the skills needed to do it.
We’re seeing this firsthand as Aidan transitions into middle school. The expectations are higher, the homework has increased, and there’s a whole new level of independence expected of him. We’ve spent these first several weeks figuring out systems, routines, and ways to help him succeed. Some things work, some don’t, and some days we find ourselves starting all over again.
And I want to be transparent because this is Grace in the Disarray, after all. There are days when I fail miserably at being patient. I get frustrated and fall right back into the parenting approaches that worked with Bella and Abbi, forgetting that what worked for them doesn’t always work for Aidan. It’s one thing to understand ADHD and another thing entirely to put that understanding into practice when you’re in the middle of an aggravating moment. I’m still learning… and I certainly don’t always get it right.
I’m so grateful for the Christian school Aidan attends and for teachers who see beyond grades and academic expectations. They recognize him as a child of God, uniquely created with strengths, challenges, and so much potential. Because at the end of the day, my biggest concern isn’t whether he gets straight A’s or remembers every assignment. It’s that he grows up knowing he is capable, loved, and valued for exactly who God created him to be.
And that’s the part of ADHD I wish more people understood. When children continually struggle with things that seem to come easily to everyone else, it can affect how they see themselves. I never want Aidan to believe that the things he struggles with define who he is.
I don’t want to lower expectations for him. I want to help him develop the tools to meet them. I want to teach responsibility without creating shame, encourage independence while recognizing when he still needs support, and remember that grace and accountability can exist together.
ADHD isn’t a reflection of intelligence, character, or parenting. It’s a real neurodevelopmental condition, not simply a behavior problem. And maybe that’s what ADHD Awareness Month should really be about: looking beyond the diagnosis and recognizing the challenges children and families navigate every day.
Sometimes the greatest thing we can do for a child isn’t to change our expectations, but to change the way we help them get there.
People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart. 1 Samuel 16:7
