🌪️Mom Life

Everyday life with ADHD, parenting a neurodivergent child, managing a stubborn toddler, juggling a full-time job, and just trying to survive the whirlwind.

Finding My Groove: Showing Up for My Kids (and Myself)
This week has felt different — in the best way. For a long time, I was just going through the motions as a mom. I was there physically, but my mind was everywhere else: thinking about work, my to-do list, what to make for dinner, or just waiting for bedtime so I could finally relax.

But lately, I’ve found my groove. And it’s changing everything.

Healing My Nervous System

The biggest shift started with me. For years, I was living in constant fight-or-flight mode — rushing, reacting, trying to control everything. No wonder I didn’t have the capacity to be fully present with my kids.

Over the last few months, I’ve been intentionally healing my nervous system, which has looked like:
- Releasing trapped emotions that were stuck in my body and weighing me down.
- Feeling my heart more instead of staying numb or disconnected from my emotions.
- Meditating regularly, even for just a few minutes a day, to slow my thoughts and reconnect with my breath.
- Choosing slow, intentional movement (like walking, stretching, or gentle yoga) instead of always rushing from task to task.
- Doing less throughout the day and letting go of the guilt for not being “productive” every second.
- Somatic exercises to bring my body back to a state of safety and regulation.
Bit by bit, my body has started to feel safe again — and that safety has opened up space for connection.

A Huge Realization

This past weekend, I uncovered something huge about myself. Growing up as a middle child, I didn’t get much attention. And now, as an adult, I notice how that’s been showing up everywhere: craving attention from my husband, wanting my kids to notice me, even seeking it from my work team.

Realizing this was eye-opening. It helped me see why giving my children undivided attention matters so much. I don’t want them to grow up feeling unseen the way I often did. Instead, I want them to feel deeply loved, heard, and valued — not through big gestures, but through the simple act of me being present with them.

The Power of Presence

Now that I feel calmer inside, I can actually show up for my kids. Not distracted, not halfway listening while I scroll my phone or mentally plan tomorrow. Just there — noticing the silly things they say, getting on the floor to play, and being interested in what lights them up.

And you know what? Their behavior has changed. There are fewer meltdowns, fewer sibling fights, and way more giggles. When I’m grounded and engaged, they feel safe and seen. And when they feel that way, everything runs more smoothly.

How I’m Making It Possible

I’ve realized that showing up for my kids starts with showing up for myself.
- Daily Movement – Moving my body every day helps me process stress and reset my mind.
- Choosing Foods that Support Me – I’ve been cutting back on sugar, not from a place of restriction, but because I feel so much better without the highs and crashes.
- Little Moments of Joy – Reading a few pages of a book, taking a hot shower, or sipping tea before bed fills me up so I can pour into my family.
These small habits are helping my nervous system stay regulated, which means I can respond with patience instead of reacting out of stress.

The Ripple Effect

I didn’t expect the shift in my energy to ripple into my whole house, but it has. The mornings feel calmer. Playtime feels lighter. Even bedtime feels less like a battle and more like a connection point.

And maybe that’s the secret — when I take care of me, I have the capacity to take care of them, too. And when I make sure my kids feel truly seen, I’m breaking a generational pattern of disconnection.

Your Turn

If you’ve been stuck in survival mode, I see you. Healing doesn’t happen overnight, but you can start today. Take a deep breath, release some tension in your body, choose one thing that feels nourishing — and most importantly, give your kids a few moments of undivided attention. It might change more than you think.
September 19, 2025
When I Let Go of the To-Do List, I Found My Kids Again
Lately, I’ve been feeling like I’m holding up the entire house with two tired hands.

The dishes.
The laundry.
The meals.
The kids’ emotions.
My own emotions.
The invisible checklist that loops through my mind from morning to night.

And recently, something in me whispered: This isn’t sustainable.

The weight I’ve been carrying—physically, emotionally, mentally—has felt heavier than ever. Especially with my husband checked out lately, glued to the TV, barely present with the kids. I know he’s struggling too—he’s said it’s depression from losing his job—but knowing that doesn’t make it easier when I feel like I’m parenting alone.

I’ve tried to push through.
Tried to be efficient.
Tried to manage everyone and everything like I’m some kind of machine.

But I’m not.
And I don’t want to be.

So yesterday… I stopped.

I didn’t plan on it. But something in me just surrendered. I let the to-do list sit where it was. I let go of trying to be “productive.” I didn’t force myself to multitask or squeeze in extra chores while my kids played.

I played with them.
Fully.
Presently.
Joyfully.

And something wild happened… I felt alive again.

I had fun. Real fun—not that fake, “I’m-smiling-but-thinking-about-dinner” kind of fun. I laughed. I chased them. I watched their faces light up and realized how long it’s been since I truly joined in their world.

And the to-do list?
It still got done.
Not all at once. Not on a strict timeline. But enough.

I’ve been noticing this pattern in myself: the more I resist what’s happening, the more I try to control everything around me. And when I do that, I feel more stressed, more reactive, more exhausted. But when I pause… when I breathe… when I accept what’s in front of me and meet it with presence—something shifts.

There’s more peace.
More grace.
More room for me and the kids to just be.

And while I still feel that familiar tug toward “getting everything done,” I’m learning that presence is productivity too.
That being with my children, fully, is not a break from my job—it is the most important part of my job.

So today, I’m choosing that again.
Even if it’s messy.
Even if the laundry piles up.
Even if dinner is just chicken nuggets and cut-up fruit.

I’m choosing presence over perfection.
Connection over control.
And joy—real joy—over just making it through the day.
1. Letting the to-do list go (just for a little while)
  I didn’t abandon responsibility—I just pressed pause. I reminded myself that the dishes could wait, the laundry would still be there later, and that I could trust time to stretch a little if I chose to be present now. Releasing that inner urgency made space for joy.
2. Breathing before reacting
  When I noticed overwhelm or frustration bubbling up, I put my hand on my chest and just took a slow, deep breath. It didn’t fix everything, but it gave me a pause—a window where I could respond gently instead of snapping or zoning out. That breath anchored me to now.
3. Saying yes to play
  Instead of trying to get the kids to “go play” so I could do something else, I stepped into their world. Even five minutes of full-body, full-heart play shifted the energy in our home. It reminded me that joy is right here when I choose to engage in it.
You’re Not Alone

If you’re a mom feeling overwhelmed, like you’re constantly doing everything for everyone else—please know this: you are not failing. You’re just carrying too much. And sometimes the most powerful thing we can do is let something go and be right here, just for a moment.

You deserve joy too.

Let the house be a little messy. Let the list wait. Let your heart rest in the giggles, the sunshine, the tiny hands pulling you into their world.

It’s not perfect. It’s presence.
And that’s more than enough. 💛
July 5, 2025
Finding Calm During a Toddler Meltdown (Or Trying To)

This morning was one of those mornings. You know the kind.

My son was deep in the Lego zone—laser-focused on building something very specific. I, being the well-meaning mom I am, tried to help… and accidentally broke his creation. Big mistake. Huge. I am not the Lego parent. That’s my husband’s territory. But he wasn’t home, and I was just trying to help.

Cue the complete meltdown.

He was on the floor, sobbing, furious, heartbroken. We had about 10 minutes before we needed to leave for school, and my blood was starting to boil. You know that feeling? When you can literally feel the heat rising in your chest and you’re just seconds away from snapping?

In that moment, I knew that if I lost it, we’d both spiral—and I’d be carrying a load of guilt with me for the rest of the day.

So instead… I stood still. I breathed. I dug up some shred of patience and offered him a choice:

“You can keep having your meltdown and be late for school… or you can get up now, get to school early so you can play on the playground, and then finish your Legos after school.”

Honestly? I didn’t think it would work. I braced myself for more tears, maybe even prepared to leave the room and have a good cry myself.

But he surprised me. He got up.

We made it to school a little early. He proudly showed his friends his monkey bar skills. And guess what he’s doing right now? Yep—happily building Legos with his dad.

Was I perfect? Nope. Did I have a magical strategy? Not really. Just a quiet moment, a pause, and a choice.

I’m not a master of staying calm in chaos—but I’m learning.

If you’re in the same boat, trying to parent through big emotions (your kid’s and your own), just know: you’re not alone. Sometimes, we just need to breathe, stand still, and offer a little grace—to them and ourselves.

May 7, 2025
Easter Recap 🐣🌿

We started the morning with backyard egg hunting — and in the moment, I totally forgot to take pictures (which honestly means I was really present, right?). I made sure the kids ate breakfast before the sugar hunt, so I felt slightly less guilty watching them sneak behind a tree and devour their treasures like little candy goblins. 😆

(Didn’t get a pic, but this gives the vibe )

This was the first year Ashlyn (3) was truly into it, and that made everything extra fun. Liam (5) was in full chaotic energy mode later at grandma & grandpa’s — crushing chips on a bench, stealing candy from other kids, and just being, well… Liam. 😅 Ashlyn was running wild too. I felt like the only mom there with kids who seemed like a tornado in a sea of calm.

By the time we got home, I was toast. Zero capacity. Couch mode: activated. Didn’t want to play, talk, or even parent if I’m being honest.

And just when I thought the day was over, Ashlyn decided that she now needs to sleep with her door open. As if the light that’s already on all night long to chase away the “shadow monsters” isn’t enough — now we’ve got the hallway noises to keep her (and me) on high alert too. 😵‍💫

But… I woke up today feeling intentional. Like I’m here again. Not just running on autopilot. And that in itself feels like a win. 🌱💛

April 21, 2025
The Lunchable Chronicles: Life with a Super Picky Eater

If you’ve ever lived with a picky eater, you know the struggle is real. And if you haven’t? Imagine trying to serve Gordon Ramsay a microwave dinner — and getting judged hard for it. That’s basically my life with Liam, my 5-year-old food critic in training.

Liam is currently obsessed with Lunchables. Not just any Lunchable — the ham and cheese with crackers one. Sounds simple, right? It’s just ham, cheese, and crackers. I thought, “Perfect! I can recreate this at home — save some money, cut down on processed stuff, and maybe add in a veggie if I’m feeling wild.”

Spoiler alert: I was wrong.

Let’s start with the ham. I’ve tried every kind imaginable. Thin sliced, thick sliced, honey-roasted, uncured, organic, deli-fresh — if it’s been sold in a refrigerated section, it’s been in my fridge. But Liam? Oh no. If it’s not that ultra-smooth, no-texture, slightly spongy ham from the actual Lunchable, he’s not having it. One sniff and he’s dramatically gagging like I just offered him a plate of slugs.

Next up: the crackers. Again, sounds simple. Saltines? Nope. Ritz? How dare I. He will only eat Chicken in a Biskit — the saltiest, most flavor-blasted cracker ever invented. Honestly, I kind of get that one. They are weirdly addictive. But they don’t exactly scream “balanced lunch,” you know?

And the cheese. Oh, the cheese. I thought I had nailed it by grabbing Kraft singles — because that’s what Lunchables use, right? WRONG. Apparently, the Lunchable cheese is even more processed (didn’t know that was possible), and Liam insists he can taste the difference. He took one bite of the homemade version and declared, “This is disgusting.” Meanwhile, we have a giant pack of Kraft singles from Sam’s Club slowly aging in the fridge because we thought we had cracked the code. Thank God my husband loves Kraft cheese, or I’d be weeping into a grilled cheese sandwich every day.

So, here we are. I’m trying to be creative, stay within budget, and feed my kid something he’ll actually eat. And Liam’s just out here defending Lunchables like they’re the fifth food group.

I know he’ll grow out of it eventually. I know his taste buds will mature and one day he might even ask for broccoli. But for now, I’m just over here trying not to cry in the Lunchable aisle.

If you’re in the picky eater trenches with me — solidarity. We’ll get through it. One Chicken in a Biskit cracker at a time.

April 19, 2025