“Magnets! Magnets! Magnets!” chanted my seven-year-old son as he zigzagged up the ramp to get to the second floor of our local children’s museum. I held my breath and uttered my own chant, “Please don’t let anyone else be at the magnet station. Please.” We rounded the corner, and there he was — a very sweet, very placid little boy playing happily with the magnets, his mother close by.
Two months ago — before our son’s ADHD diagnosis, before our decision to use stimulant medication to treat his condition — I could have predicted what would have been next. My son would have bounded into this child’s personal space, grabbed any magnets he wanted from the boy, then screamed once or twice, until eventually the boy would abandon the magnets and his mother would give me the look.