Parenting ADHD and ODD: What We’ve Learned So Far
From early concerns at two years old to learning how to parent differently, this is the story of how ADHD and ODD reshaped our family life.
We first realised something was different when Skye was around two years old.
She wasn’t communicating at the same level as her peers, and she was constantly in motion. Busy, impulsive, and always on the go. She didn’t make much eye contact, and when we came home from work, she didn’t always react in the way you expect a toddler to. She seemed distant at times, not fully present with us.
As first-time parents, we dismissed a lot of it. Every child develops differently. We told ourselves she would catch up.
It was my mother-in-law who gently pointed out that something felt off. When the word autism was mentioned, panic set in. We began speaking with the NHS in the UK, but because of her age, testing was dismissed. We paid privately to have her hearing assessed and started short-term speech therapy, trying to rule things out one step at a time.
Then life changed.
When Skye was three, we moved from the UK to Saudi Arabia. The transition was big, and her behaviour escalated almost immediately. The tantrums became intense. She became aggressive. We couldn’t tell what was adjustment and what might be something deeper.
We consulted a neurologist who prescribed a very low dose of medication to help regulate her behaviour and referred us to a paediatric psychology clinic for further assessment.
Over the course of a week, Skye underwent a series of evaluations including behavioural, cognitive, speech and developmental. When the results came back, she was diagnosed with moderate to severe ADHD and Oppositional Defiant Disorder.
The diagnosis wasn’t a shock.
It was bittersweet.
On one hand, we felt validated. We hadn’t imagined it. We weren’t overreacting. There was a reason things felt harder than they should.
On the other hand, we understood that this wasn’t something she would grow out of. This was something we would grow into, together.
ADHD in Girls: Signs Most People Miss
Stepping Into the Role
My husband initially struggled with the idea of labels. I think many parents do. It’s easier to hope it’s a phase.
But speaking openly with her doctor changed that. Admitting that your child has additional needs doesn’t diminish them. It frees you to support them properly.
We realised that pretending nothing was wrong helped no one.
Our first plan of action was therapy. Skye attended daily sessions at an ABA clinic after school. We saw improvement. She gained structure. We gained insight.
School, however, became one of our biggest challenges.
Because we live in Saudi Arabia, schools are private and not always equipped to support neurodivergent children. We were rejected by four schools before one agreed to enrol her, on the condition that she have a shadow teacher.
It was humbling. It was frustrating. It was expensive.
But we did what we needed to do.
A week before her sixth birthday, her doctor prescribed Concerta. The change was immediate. She became more present. More verbal. Calmer. Not quiet, but clearer. Her hyperactivity didn’t disappear, but it became manageable.
Over time, she no longer needed a shadow teacher. She became more independent in the classroom and now participates in activities alongside her peers.
Cognitively, she is still behind. Making friends can be difficult. Social dynamics are not always intuitive for her. But her teachers are proud of her progress, and so are we.
The Hardest Season
The hardest period was before medication.
Mornings were battles. Getting dressed, brushing teeth, eating breakfast… Each task could escalate into conflict. Because she wakes up unmedicated, mornings are still our biggest challenge.
Her ODD presents as immediate defiance. Her first response to almost everything is “no.” We’ve learned that instructions followed by silence work better than repetition. She needs time to process. Nagging only fuels resistance.
We’ve tried every parenting style.
Gentle parenting didn’t work during meltdowns. Time-outs worked briefly. Reward charts lost their power. Consequences were inconsistent. What worked one week stopped working the next.
Parenting her requires adaptation. Sometimes daily.
That uncertainty strained our marriage at times. We questioned ourselves constantly. We poured time, money and energy into therapy and school support, yet still felt like we were failing.
Living abroad amplified the isolation. We considered moving back to South Africa, but ultimately stayed because of the medical support available here.
Some weeks still feel overwhelming.
But some weeks feel steady.
We take our wins where we can.
Who Skye Is Today
Skye is outgoing. Fearless. She will walk up to anyone and start a conversation.
That means we safeguard her closely, but we also admire her confidence.
She has fire in her, an appetite for life. She wants to try everything. She loves deeply and stepped into the role of older sister naturally. She protects her little brother, even if we sometimes need to step in and reinforce boundaries.
Sports have been challenging. Football didn’t suit her. Gymnastics required a level of discipline she struggled with. We considered karate but decided against it given her aggressive tendencies. We’re learning that the right environment matters. Ballet might work. Parkour might be a better fit.
It’s constant adjustment.
She is resilient. Her teachers see it. We see it.
And she goes to bed every night knowing she is loved.
The Shift in Us
I’m not sure I’ve ever fully stopped feeling like I’m failing.
But I have stopped believing that I need to fix her.
At two years old, I didn’t know where this road would take us. I didn’t know if I was capable of parenting a child with additional needs.
Now I understand something different.
She doesn’t need a perfect parent.
She needs present ones.
Sometimes I remind myself: she’s tucked into a warm bed with a full belly, surrounded by love. That counts for more than perfection.
My husband was the one who encouraged me to write about our journey. He believed there were other parents feeling the same confusion, isolation and trial-and-error we did.
Talking about it removes some of the stigma.
It makes it less lonely.
Why This Space Exists
There is endless information about ADHD itself.
There is far less about how parents manage it at home.
How to handle the mornings.
How to adapt when reward systems stop working.
How to stay connected as a couple.
How to parent when advice doesn’t translate.
We are still learning.
Some seasons are better than others.
But if sharing our experience helps even one parent feel less alone, then it’s worth it.
We are honoured to be her parents.
And grateful to grow alongside her.
If you’re navigating ADHD in your own home, you’re not alone. I share more practical systems, reflections and honest conversations inside our Parenting ADHD Together community.