We were nearing the end of a very long day. My 4 year old clung to my thigh like a monkey to a flagpole, wailing because mommy was going to a PTA meeting after dinner. My 6 year old shouted “Mom, look at my LEGO ship” in machine-gun rapid fire, unsuccessful in attracting my attention because I only had eyes for my 8 year old — the one with attention deficit disorder (ADHD or ADD). She looked back at me through an unbrushed nest of hair piled atop her sinewy frame, holding a thick, black marker, standing next to one of my brand-new dining chairs.
I had absolutely no business buying sand-colored, upholstered chairs, as if I lived in some other house with well-behaved kids and relaxed grown-ups. And, as my eyes fell to the thick black line drawn on the back of my pretty new chair, I realized my daughter had just proven that fact.
“You drew on my chair?” I shouted. “My brand new chair?”
She shook her head, gripping the marker tight. “No, I didn’t.”
I pointed to the marker. “Of course you did. What were you thinking? Don’t lie to me.”
Her eyes welled and she began to cry. “I didn’t. I didn’t. I didn’t.” She threw the marker down and ran from the room, stunning the rest of us into a moment of silence.
It wasn’t the first time she’d lied — and it wouldn’t be the last. She’d lie about taking something that wasn’t hers when caught red-handed, she’d lie about hitting her brother when I saw her do it, she’d lie about finishing her peas when the bowl was still full. I was confounded. Our family values cherished honesty and I was raising a misbehaving liar. Plus, now I had permanent black marks on my brand new chair!
The key to understanding why my daughter lies is in a concept called Magical Thinking. My child with ADHD had just done something impulsive — something outside her control — and was unable to stop herself in time. A bit like if you’d slept-walked and ate a whole cake, then snapped out of it to realize what you’d done. She wished she hadn’t done it. And magical thinking allowed her to imagine that she hadn’t.
Beginning with the toddler years and waning close to about 10 years old, children are ego-centric, meaning they believe they are the cause of things around them, like whether a rainbow appears or someone is sad. They also believe in pretend and the animation of inanimate objects. They believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. This sense of magical thinking allows a child with ADHD to “wish away” the thing they’d just done. If they say it didn’t happen, then perhaps they can UN-DO it. Perhaps it didn’t actually happen after all.
It is important also to remember that the brain of a child with ADHDlacks the neurotransmitters necessary to control impulsivity. That lack of control likely accounts for whatever he or she did but shouldn’t have. It can also account for the lie. That lie would jet out of my daughter’s mouth so fast, I could almost sense that it surprised even her. But, once spoken aloud, she had to commit to the lie to have any chance of convincing me it was true. Taking it back would surely mean she’d get in trouble for whatever she’d done — and then also for lying about it.
My daughter with ADHD also struggles with tolerating big emotions— hers and mine. If she said she didn’t do it, then she had a shot at convincing me it was true and thwarting the potentially angry mom. But she was unsuccessful. Seeing my anger, coupled with her own frustration and disappointment in herself for her inability to control her actions, created a storm of feelings that were hard to manage. So, she erupted herself, letting it all out. And ran away to avoid having to manage it further.
Follow link above to full article
Try our Newsletter
Special discounts, new products and natural ADHD related information.