When I Knew Something Was Different: Early Signs of ADHD in My Child

I started to notice something when my daughter was about three years old.

There were the typical “threenager” tantrums… and then there were moments that felt bigger, harder to calm, and harder to understand.

It was hard to explain. Harder to prove.

Friends and family offered reassurance—“that’s normal,” “all kids do that”—and I wanted to believe them. I really did.

But deep down, I knew something felt different.

There were little things, too.

When we were out in stores, she would talk to me constantly—full conversations the entire time she sat in the cart facing me.

She’s always been curious and engaged, noticing everything and wanting to connect.

People noticed, too. They would smile and say things like, “I had one just like that,” or “One of mine never stopped talking either.”

I heard it often enough that I tried to take comfort in it—maybe this was typical.

But there was something else I couldn’t ignore.

It was almost always phrased the same way:
“One of my kids was just like that.”
“I have four kids, and one of them did that too.”

Not all of them. Just one.

And after hearing that over and over again, I started to wonder why it was always one.

It was a small detail—but it stayed with me.

But even then, something in me wondered if it was more than that.

I didn’t have a framework for what I was seeing.

I only have one child, and I didn’t grow up in a world where mental health was openly discussed. I didn’t have language for early signs of ADHD or anxiety—I just had a gut feeling that something wasn’t quite lining up.

And if I’m being honest, some of the earliest challenges didn’t just show up in big moments—they showed up in everyday routines, too. Even something as simple as getting through the morning could feel harder than it should have.
→ Why Mornings Are So Hard with an ADHD Child

It was 2020, so options were limited and waitlists were long.

We started with her pediatrician, who recommended behavioral therapy.

I remember sitting in the parking lot during those sessions, waiting for an hour each week while she worked on breathing techniques and coping tools.

At home, we tried everything—fidgets, calming corners, anything that might help.

I remember reaching out to friends, friends of friends, even people I barely knew—just trying to find someone who could explain what I was seeing.

Eventually, we went back to her pediatrician.

She was five, in preschool, and after more evaluations, she was diagnosed with ADHD and anxiety.

That was the beginning of our journey—searching for tools, answers, and some sense of calm in what had started to feel like a daily battleground.

It wasn’t easy for any of us.

But we kept going.

Looking back, I also didn’t realize how much I would eventually need to speak up, ask questions, and advocate in ways I never expected.
→ Advocating for a Child with ADHD

If you’re in the thick of it right now—wondering if what you’re seeing is “typical” behavior or something more—you’re not alone in that feeling.

Trusting your instincts as a parent can be difficult, especially when everyone around you is saying everything is fine.

But that quiet feeling? It matters.

If this part of the journey feels familiar, you don’t have to figure it out alone.

You might want to read next:

• Why mornings feel so hard with ADHD kids
• What homework battles can look like in elementary school
• How this journey changes you as a parent

---

I’d love to stay connected. I share honest stories and real-life strategies for parenting through ADHD, adoption, and the messy middle of everyday life.

You can subscribe here to get new posts delivered straight to your inbox.