Adjusting.. or not.

His tears seep into the blanket as he gazes up at me.
"Why am I so sad?" he whispers in a broken voice.

I gaze down at him, my heart breaking as my hot tears mix with his.
"I know this is hard, buddy" I say quietly, my voice cracking, "I'm so sorry."

My hand gently strokes his summer-sun streaked hair as we gaze at each other, miserable.
-----------------

A half hour later, I'm in the kitchen making dinner.
He's on the sofa in the family room.
The no-electronics rule has been briefly suspended because sometimes circumstance is more important than rules.

I hear the garage door going up and turn to meet Rob at the door.
"Go back into the garage" I hiss and he steps back, surprised.
As the door closes, I burst into heaving sobs and release the tears and anguish I have been holding inside.
"I hate this. I hate this so much" I wail into his shoulder, dampening his shirt to the skin.
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There are people who think that ADHD is over-diagnosed and maybe it is.
I can't make that call.
What I can tell you, however, is that no parent in their right mind would choose to medicate their child with these drugs unnecessarily. 
----------------------

In a few days, his system will have adjusted to his medication and he will be able to sit in school and learn what is being taught without his mind wandering away to that wonderful, creative place that it goes.

And I will be grateful that this is possible.. while simultaneously counting down the days until I can stop his medication for the summer and have my zany, noisy goofball back.