When ADHD is All in the Family

What happens when it's not just "you or me" who has ADHD but you, me, and a few of the children? (And maybe the dog, too!)

This month's post is written by Cynthia Hammer, MSW, an advocate who has long and admirably served the ADHD community in various capacities. She is currently an AD/HD coach in the Seattle area as well an avid bicyclist and mother of three. As a longtime fan of her work and her compassionately insightful writing, I'm honored that she agreed to share this essay with you here.   -- Gina Pera

We existed as a family for over 15 years before realizing some of us had AD/HD. How did we do it? Although life post-diagnosis and treatment still isn't always easy, I look back in wonder at what we went through in raising our children and maintaining a family life. Actually, a review of our life has been helpful as I say to myself, "You've come a long way, baby!"


In our family, the mother (that's me), was diagnosed with AD/HD along with my middle son (without hyperactivity) and youngest son (with conduct disorder). Our oldest son does not have AD/HD, while word is still out on the father. I have "diagnosed" him with AD/HD, but he refuses the diagnosis.


After I got treatment, I became more aware of my husband's "AD/HD-like" behaviors. They began to irritate me, whereas earlier I didn't even notice them. Other couples, where one is diagnosed and the other isn't, have told me this is a common experience. Like the reformed smoker who no longer tolerates even the smell of smoke, my improved self, who used to be blithely unaware of unaffected by the AD/HD behaviors in those around me, is now hypervigilant in insisting that they shape up.


My husband is now aware of his forgetfulness. Our oldest son recently commented that Dad has lost everything he owns at least once! He, laughing, acknowledges that this was true. However, he would rather believe he has early Alzheimer's disease than to think he shares our disability of AD/HD. I can't understand why he feels this way. So far, there's no good treatment for Alzheimer's while there are several effective treatments for AD/HD. At any event, it has become almost irrelevant. As I point out his behaviors that are AD/HD-like, he works to change them. Whether or not he has AD/HD, he is using coping strategies, sans medication, to improve his functioning.


My approach with my husband is probably not as sweet and benign as it sounds. I say something like, "Prove to me you don't have AD/HD by never being late again…by not telling me you'll be home in ten minutes only to appear one hour later…or by not planning to accomplish fifteen things in the next two hours while you sit there using up thirty of those minutes." Before my diagnosis and treatment, his AD/HD-like behaviors rarely bothered me. While I waited for him, I got involved in one or more projects, and I too had lost track of time!


I look back in wonder at what we went through.


Ignorance Isn't Always Blissful 


Some say that AD/HD in both partners can work very well, and in some ways that's true. Spouses with untreated AD/HD are generally very tolerant of each other's behaviors. They are too caught up in their own world to really notice or generally care about what's going on in those around them. Having little time for each other, not following through on commitments, making last-minute plans, or generally being a day late and a dollar short is a way of life for each of them, so the "fit" between them is pretty good.


I used to have a number of fender benders, but I never worried about my husband getting unduly upset, as he had his share of them, too. We learned not to make snide remarks about lost keys, as we couldn't determine who was misplacing them more often. We had a number of household sets but still couldn't find them. Now we have an improved strategy: He has his set and I have mine. (I think he still loses his more.)


The erroneous idea persists that if you are doing well in certain areas, you can't have AD/HD. Using society's standards and judging by external appearances, we were doing very well. Steve is a general surgeon and I have a master's degree in social work, but we were struggling, and I had no idea that how we lived our lives was more chaotic, disorganized, and difficult than for others. 

"The erroneous idea persists that if 

you are doing well in certain areas, 

you can't have ADHD."

Then the children came. Our first-born son did not have AD/HD. He was high achieving and capable. We thought we were great parents. We were therefore bewildered, stymied, and drained -- mentally, physically and emotionally -- by the two boys who arrived later.

What are some of my major memories as an undiagnosed AD/HD mother raising two undiagnosed AD/HD sons?

No Space of My Own

As a social worker, I attended a presentation intended to increase our awareness of what losses people experience when moving into a nursing home. The speaker asked each of us what space we had in our own homes that was our special place, a space that was recognized as ours alone, that no one would violate or intrude on.

I realized I had no place. Living with AD/HD children, there were no boundaries. I could tell them to stay out of my purse, my closet, and my rooms and to not use my possessions without first asking, all to no avail. I would knock before entering their rooms, they they seemed incapable of extending this courtesy to others. My husband and I resigned ourselves, begrudgingly, to this state of affairs, although periodically we continued to work on it.

"I thought more time and effort on 
my part would resolve the problem. 

But I just wasn't up to the 
kind of consistency 

and follow-through it required."

For our oldest son, their violation of his space and possessions cause continual family stress. He would get angry with us. "Why don't you do something about it?" As I write this, I wonder why we didn't get him a key to his room. Being naïve and idealistic, I didn't want to think one family member had to lock his room against two other family members. Foolishly, I thought more time and effort on my part would resolve the problem. But I just wasn't up to the kind of consistency and follow-through it required.

Embarrassed and Shamed in Public

When dining out, we'd order and then send the younger boys to do whatever they did. Otherwise, they would start fighting, verbally and physically, with each other as we waited for our food to arrive. When our meals were served, one of us would look for the boys and invite them back to the table. Invariably, they would have tales of how they found a quarter by crawling under the cigarette machine, how one hit the other and that in hitting him back, they accidentally hit another patron and had gotten bawled out, or how they left the water running in the bathroom sink and it was now spilling onto the floor.

My husband and I were fortunate in being able to afford babysitters so we could have time to ourselves. Years later, though, one sitter confided to me that she hadn't really been unavailable all the times we'd asked; she just hadn't wanted to sit for our boys because they were too much for her to handle.

Forgetfulness, Lack of Awareness, and Inconsistency 

There are probably numerous incidents of my sons forgetting things they needed to do, but the forgetting incidents I remember most are my own forgetting incidents. It has taken me a while to forgive myself for these "forgettings" and to share them. 

One morning, I dropped off my oldest son at preschool and drove off. Two hours later, I got a call from a school's neighbor. School was closed that day (I forgot), and my son had been sitting on the steps waiting for my return. I felt so badly for my son—what kind of mother could abandon him like that –and embarrassed that the kind neighbor must have wondered the same thing about me.

We knew we needed help with our younger sons and sought professional guidance. Although the psychologist didn't make an AD/HD diagnosis, he taught us behavior modification with a point system, dolling out rewards and punishments. I devised a wonderful system, fairly simple, where our sons could earn positive or negative points on a daily basis. The system worked great, and the boys' behavior improved tremendously.

One month later, I was again in the therapist's office. He asked me how the point system was working. I was dumbfounded. The system had been working well, but I was no longer doing it. And I had no explanation. I went home determined to try again. My renewed effort faltered within a few short weeks. My untreated AD/HD made it impossible for me to stick with a discipline system that required much organization and consistency.

I could go on but I think you get the picture. Those of you living with AD/HD in the family are not alone.

Now: Knowing What To Do, and Doing What We Know

At any event, in the midst of this turmoil, three of us finally got diagnosed and treated for AD/HD. This has made a world of difference. As Dr. Daniel Amen says, "If there is AD/HD in the family, everyone in the family needs treatment, or too much stress remains in the family system."

As one of our sons says, "People with untreated AD/HD know what to do, they just can't get themselves to do it." Everyone in our family has learned about AD/HD, and we are learning to do what we know we should do. We have moved beyond surviving, to thriving, as a family. I wish you well with yours.

                                                                                                         -- Written by Cynthia Hammer, MSW