Dear HOA…

To My Sister’s HOA,

I am writing to you, not because my sister can’t, but because I have a different perspective I felt needed to be shared.

You see, my sister and her family love your neighborhood so much, that when they felt they needed to move to keep their son safe, they literally moved just a couple streets down.  They left a pool we all enjoyed for a house with a yard that would better suit their son with visual and cognitive impairments. A house where he could be outside with his family in a yard that is safe for him.

I want you to take a moment to look at my nephew, Kahsay. It’s easy to hear about someone’s child with special needs, but it’s another to lay your eyes on him and to see that he is a real human being. Not just another person’s child, but a child in our community. A child who is loved. A child who brings joy. A child who is your neighbor.

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You see most don’t even know when they encounter Kahsay that he is a miracle.

My sister and her family adopted him from Ethiopia almost 6 years ago. After having three biological daughters, God called them to grow their family through adoption. Jill and Jason knew God had a son for them across the world.

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What they didn’t know was that their son would come home and after a few things didn’t seem quite “right” for a child his age they would seek out doctors and he would have many tests.  What they didn’t know was that a doctor would look at them and tell them that their son’s scans showed massive deficits. They were told he would not talk.  They were told he would not walk.

God surprises us though, doesn’t he? This child that “would never walk” stood up one day and took off. This child that my sister never had thought about needing baby gates or fences stood right up on his God given feet and took off (BTW, if you want to see the very moment this happened take a look here:  The Day Kahsay Walked)

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Thus began their journey to make sure he could enjoy the world around him while being able to stay safe.

While Kahsay is a miracle, his world is still so small.  He is cognitively and visually impaired.  You can imagine that for a child with these kind of disabilities the world around him can be scary.  His family celebrates when he explores, but watches cautiously as there have been moments he has fallen and lost his front teeth, slipped and hit a coffee table resulting in stitches, and other such bumps and bruises. When my sister’s family moved into their new home they knew that they would need a fence for Kahsay to keep him safe, but they desperately wanted to allow him the freedom to explore his surroundings like any other 6 year old might.

Now, let me tell you about my sister. My sister is someone who takes pride in her home. She thrives on decorating and she is constantly creating with her home as her canvas. She has mastered the art of design on a dime, and knows how to find treasures and unique pieces to pull a space together. She is a woman who not only wants to protect her son, but a woman who wants to create a beautiful space inside and outside of her home.

My sister and her husband knew that there would be discussions about the type of fence allowed.  The fence the board voted on as “allowed” to keep her son safe (a son none of them met, worked to learn more about, or asked questions about) is one that is not only meant for a farm but is also unfit to keep her son safe.  When she asked for more understanding and clarification on the process to choose such fence she was met with “The Board stands behind this decision.” Period. Done. Questions unanswered.

One might say that they should just move elsewhere, however your neighborhood was one where their older daughters could continue to attend their current school and was within the school lines of one of the two schools that are the only options to best serve Kahsay and his disabilities.

If my sister chose to build a pool she could choose any fence she delighted.  However, if she is choosing to protect her son she is given one option that isn’t even a good fit to protect him. It seems to me that if a fence is allowed that the HOA would want to make sure it was a fence that was aesthetically pleasing, and also did the job.

My question to you is “Would you want this to be your fence?” Is this a fence you would want your neighbor to put up? Is this a fence you would trust to be safe and secure for a child who is visually impaired? Did you ask my sister for recommendations?  Do you know that the horizontal beams in this fence scare them?  Kahsay has proven he will get up and walk without warning, so who is to say he wouldn’t get up and climb? He also has an oral stimulation, and there is fear he will put his mouth on this fence, which is clearly not safe in the least.

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My sister’s family doesn’t want to break rules.  They want to live in a neighborhood they adore, in a community they have been welcomed, and at the same time allow their family the ability to be outside with their son and not worry about his safety. They want to be proud of the way their house looks, and we know that this is also important to those who live near to them.

To many it might seem like “just a fence,” but for my sister and her family it’s another roadblock.  It’s another issue to fight for or have to settle on.  I have watched my sister and brother in law fight for this sweet boy since they day they saw his face on a referral letter they got 6 years ago. They have fought to keep him healthy, safe, and thriving.  As a sister who has watched them fight, because things have rarely come easy when it comes to Kahsay, please consider allowing them to keep their son safe while providing a home that is something they can feel proud of.

We know that the purpose of an HOA is to manage what happens in the neighborhood so that certain rules are followed to keep our community looking nice, running smoothly, and that it is a safe place for all. We are appreciative of the work you do (because it is definitely a job I would never want). It is an important job and it is a necessary job. We ask that you take a look at your decision and evaluate if the choice is one that does keep the neighborhood looking nice and is it one that is safe for ALL of those in the community.

This is more than just politics and neighborhood rules.

This is further than the policies in your handbook.

There are moments it is more important to do what is good than to do what you think is “right.”  Today is the day to do something good.

ADHD: What You Say Is Fake Is My Reality

I am currently sitting in Starbucks trying to work as I wait for my Adderall prescription to be filled. I find myself going from chatting on Facebook, emailing our designer about new light fixtures, and trying to promote a fundraising event I am hosting.

I feel like I am doing things, but I know I am wasting time.  I know I am working inefficiently, yet I am trying hard to focus to get things done that are on my list.  I know what I need to work on, but I cannot prioritize those tasks to save my life.

And so I check my phone to see how much longer until that prescription is filled…

Over the last couple of weeks I have read more and more comments and posts from people about how ADHD is fake. That it is made up.  Over-diagnosed. A result of diet and lack of exercise.   And as I sit here in this coffee shop it brings me to tears that people think they have me all figured out.  That if I just ate better, exercised more, or maybe didn’t check my phone so much this daily struggle of mine would just be fixed.

Stop.  Please stop it.

There is so much more about ADHD that you are missing.  I bet most of you didn’t know that ADHD has three types. That the reason I wasn’t diagnosed as a child was because I don’t fit into the “typical” category most people place kids who have ADHD.  I actually bet you that for as many kids who are misdiagnosed as ADHD there are equally the same number of kids who aren’t even considered ADHD. We fly under the radar with passing grades, fantastic behavior, and don’t even see the effects of ADHD until we hit adulthood.

You see, I have had ADHD my whole life.  I didn’t have the diagnosis, but I have always had ADHD.  I had it through grade school when I couldn’t keep my room clean to save my life, but I somehow aced all of my tests.  My brain wasn’t stimulated by picking up my room, but I loved to learn and school came easy.

I had ADHD when I was in high school and had 2 hours of volleyball practice a day. That daily exercise couldn’t do much to help me when it came to misplacing my car keys, keeping my locker organized, and time management.

I had ADHD when I was on the Weight Watchers. I was eating healthy, yet the only thing I could do to stay on track was to focus almost 100% on my points. My ADHD couldn’t be successful unless I hyper-focused on my nutrition, which meant other areas fell apart, and eventually I exhausted myself with burnout.

I have used essential oils that might take the edge off or calm me down, but they don’t take ADHD away. They didn’t “fix” the problem for more than 20 minutes.

And don’t even get me started on the doctor that looked at me and said “hmmm, why don’t you just try some deep breathing exercises?”

ADHD is as real for me as the sweaty palms I get when I am nervous, the overstimulation I feel when I am touched too much, the anxiety I feel when there are too many noises all at once, and the mental exhaustion I hit at about 11am which makes me want to shut down and take a nap.

And you know who else it is real for?  My husband.

He has watched his wife shut down, he has seen her frustrated with not being able to focus on how to accomplish a task, he has seen her ignore every other responsibility as she tries a new stimulating activity, and he has watched as she instantly relaxes as she draws or paints or crochets.

You know who else it is real for?  My kids.

They have seen their mom lost her S!@#$ and come back to them apologizing because the constant need for her was overwhelming.  They have seen their mom be frustrated with forgetting important dates at school or question why she can’t follow through on a chore chart.  And they have watched their mom sit down with them for hours while they make a mess but create beautiful art or try a new science experiment.

I am not saying that ADHD is not over-diagnosed at times (which I have a lot to say on this but that’s for another day), but I am saying to stop calling it fake. Saying it is over-diagnosed is completely different than claiming it is fake altogether. The two concepts are completely different, and one should never be used to defend the other. Ever. Every time you say it is fake you tell someone like me that I just need to get my !@#$ together, because there should be no reason I can’t.

Every time you say it is fake you tell someone like me that I just need to get my !@#$ together, because there should be no reason I can’t.

And you are right.  There is no reason I can’t.  However, there are resources, tools, and coping skills available to me. I take hold of these and hold on tight. I share with my husband what I need. I make lists. I set boundaries. I am certain to make sure self-care is first and foremost.

And you know what helps even more? Adderall.

Meds aren’t for everyone, but for me they are.

Imagine with me for a minute that you are trying to watch your favorite TV show. And as you are watching other TVS around you start to turn on and play other shows. You want to keep watching your show, but the noise and the distraction become overwhelming.  There are three choices here. You have to work SO hard to focus on your TV if you really want to make sure you don’t miss anything, you get so overwhelmed that you turn in circles watching all of the TVS, or you simply pull the plug on all of them and shut it all off.  Even the show you really wanted.

Now imagine for me that you found the plug that all the other TVs were plugged into, except yours. You pull it. They all shut off, except yours. Now you can watch your show. You can pay attention without the mental exhaustion, and when it is done, you can turn it off and turn on the next TV.

This is what Adderall does for me. It turns off the noise of everything else so I can focus on what I need to. It calms me down and helps me prioritize and tackle things one at a time.  However, Adderall doesn’t just take away my ADHD. Most days it just takes the edge off and I still have to work hard to keep myself on task.

I have learned to love my ADHD amidst how much I hate it. I have learned that it is where my creativity stems from and it is what drives me in my passions.  However there are many days I get mad about it.  Days I ask God why he made my brain the way it is while my friends and sisters have clean homes and organized papers. There are days I feel that I am failing my husband because I can’t get the laundry done, and I am disappointing my kids because I forgot about another school activity.

Having ADHD comes with enough of its own shame, and the last thing those of us need who have this very real diagnosis is for those who don’t to seek to understand, to stop assuming you know all about diagnosing, that we need to stop taking meds to alleviate symptoms and start eating better and exercising to “cure” ourselves.

Let me show you the face of someone who struggles day in and day out with the complexities ADHD brings, and I will also share with you someone who celebrates the gifts her ADHD has given her, but don’t you dare say her ADHD is fake. Don’t you dare say her struggles aren’t real.  Don’t tell her that what brings her the greatest shame, but is the source of her greatest pride isn’t legit.

Before you want to share all of your thoughts about how and why ADHD is fake let’s talk first.  Follow me for a day.  Come have coffee with me. I’ll invite my husband too. Let us share with you the reality of life with someone who has ADHD.  Let us share with you how ugly, chaotic, messy, beautiful, exciting, and very REAL ADHD is.

Let us share with you how ugly, chaotic, messy, beautiful, exciting, and very REAL ADHD is.

Enough hyper-focus for one day.  I’m off to pick up that prescription…

Covering Our House With Scripture

It takes concrete, nails, and wood to build a house.
But we all know that it is what happens within the walls of a house that make it a home.

The most important part of building a house is starting with a solid foundation.
In the same way, we feel that creating a home must start with a solid foundation.

To symbolize this we wanted to fill our walls with scripture. The truths we place our faith in. The promises of God.

We know that within this house we are going to experience our greatest moments, and probably our hardest moments. We know there will be times we love each other, and there will be times we fight each other.

We know within these walls life is going to be messy.
It’s going to be perfectly imperfect.
And it’s going to be epic.

 

The Shame of Consistent Inconsistency

The only time I have ever referred to myself as consistent was when describing my inconsistency.  If there is one thing I can share about my ADHD that is maddening to me, it is that this idea of “consistency” seems so foreign and far-fetched.

Last night the hubs and I were talking and discussing the state of our home right now. I can make this place appear put together in a pinch, but the truth is that it is full of cluttered cupboards, random piles in corners, and bins and baskets of mismatched items that I used in a quick clean up and never revisited.  I have clean laundry that sits for weeks, areas of chaos in each room, and each day I become more and more overwhelmed.

Saturday Paul texted me while I was out and shared that he gets anxious about the house, the car, and the garage, and wondered if we could work together to come up with better solutions.  Immediately the shame monster appears, and the sting of disappointment hits me hard.  To be honest, I knew this was coming soon. The house was overwhelming me and causing me anxiety, but I didn’t even know where to begin to tackle things. When it gets to be so much I become paralyzed, and I watch as it continues to get worse.

I am tired.  I am so stinking tired of coming up with solutions, plans, and systems that seem exciting and fun in the beginning but quickly get forgotten and irrelevant.

I am tired.  I am so stinking tired of coming up with solutions, plans, and systems that seem exciting and fun in the beginning but quickly get forgotten and irrelevant. If one part of the system we set in place to complete a task changes or doesn’t fit perfectly into the mold at that moment I simply stop.

Imagine the factories they show in “How It’s Made.” There is such an exact timing and precision that has to happen for all things to function smoothly.  If one part of the machine malfunctions the rest of the tasks after it cannot be completed until things are fixed.  For me it’s as if I shut down the entire factory as soon as one part of the machine malfunctions instead of going in to troubleshoot, fixing the problem, and continuing on with business as usual.

I cannot tell you how tired I am of shutting down factories. I am so tired of feeling like I start one process just to wait until I fail at it, because I know that even with my best intentions I will get bored, overwhelmed, and throw the whole thing out.

I see this in each and every are of my life, and when you continue to see this over and over again you begin to feel shame as you see your family impacted.  I feel like I am a good mom, but then I feel like a failure when it comes to providing an environment that is scheduled, structured, and has clear expectations.  I have tried chore charts, and while we do well for a while, they quickly get forgotten.

I wish this was a post that offered solutions for those of you who feel the same.  This is one of those “Brain Dump” posts where I am pulling all of the emotions out of my head and letting them out through my typing, because it is therapeutic. I wish I could tell you that medication has fixed it all, that essential oils made me magically consistent, that alarms, apps, reminders, paying for services, or even prayer made it all better.  The truth is that these things have helped for a bit, but they take consistency, that thing that I so desperately wish came naturally to me.

I know I preach to embrace your imperfections, and I do TRULY believe we can do this, but I am here to tell you that I know it isn’t an easy task.  It is hard when some of those imperfections bring about shame and cause frustration for others.  It is hard when we feel like our brains are “broken” in some way.

However, my encouragement for you (and maybe I am talking more to myself here) is to look for those areas where you shine, and know that they have value too.  God has given you gifts that He so perfectly chose for you.  Somewhere along the way He chose someone else to receive a passion for label makers, baskets, and storage bins (ha, my mother), and He chose you (me) for gifts that they might not possess. I know God has given me many gifts and talents, but the devil has a way of making me feel that the ones that matter are the ones God didn’t bestow on me.

If you have shame in the consistency of your inconsistency,         know that you are not alone.

If you have shame in the consistency of your inconsistency, know that you are not alone.

Together let’s try our best to learn that it is important to keep opening up those factories even if we feel we have to keep shutting them down.

Together let’s try our best to know that our value as a wife and mother is not based on empty laundry baskets and organized cupboards.

Together let’s try our best to always work at being better than we are today, and to keep giving ourselves grace.

And let’s just all accept that we will do all of the above consistently inconsistently, but maybe with a little less shame.

 

 

 

Telling My Story

23192360_10100637510371054_1768848242_oMany of you know that I adore creating video and sharing parts of who I am and what I do.  When it comes to sharing  have my topics in “buckets” of the parts of me that are important to share.  These include LuLaRoe, ADHD, Momming, and Tech stuff.

I find myself sharing about LuLaRoe and tech things super easy.  These are straight forward and it’s easy to share styling tips and camera lenses. The topics that have been hard for me have been sharing deeper about ADHD and the momming side.  It’s not that I am scared to share my story, but I find it is SO personal that I get stuck on wanting to make sure I do it justice.

In general I share about the fact that I HAVE ADHD, and that I have some super adorable crazy kids, but it’s the nitty-gritty of these topics I want to dive even more into.  I want to be vulnerable enough to share the difficult thoughts I have.  The mental exhaustion when it comes to reminding myself I AM good enough.  I am worthy. I AM okay despite disorganized papers, a lack of structure, and piles of laundry.

I am a strong advocate that we cannot truly build connection until we learn to be more vulnerable with each other, and in the same token we learn to extend grace to one another.  There have been moments I have been vulnerable and have had people comment about my parenting, say my “ideas are stupid,” and that I am “out of touch with reality.”  People I don’t even know have made comments on posts about who I am when they really don’t know me at all.

And what makes me most pissed is that it hurts me to the core.  People I do not even know have enough power with their typed words to bring me to tears and question what I am sharing.

So, I am going to say “screw it,” and make myself share more about the vulnerable parts of my life.  It is through this vulnerability that I know I have inspired, and I do not want to stop because of a few people who choose to comment hurtful things.

I am going to work at allowing myself to not be paralyzed by the feeling I have to do my story “justice,” because not sharing ISN’T doing it justice either.  Keeping quiet isn’t helping anyone, nor is it fulfilling what I truly feel God has called me to.

So, I am going to work at sharing more.  To not allow myself to become paralyzed by making sure it is shared “right,” and not being fearful of those who comment hurtful things.  I want to share so others don’t feel so alone, and so I can encourage others they can do great things.

 

What You May Not Know When You Ask Her “Are There Two In There?”

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This post is actually copied from my original post in my family blog from April 16, 2016.  My friend, Mary,  shared her journey here and it inspired me to share mine again.

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I actually hadn’t planned on writing this post, but I realize that this is something most people do not think about, as it isn’t talked about much, or all that common. So, I thought I’d share my story.

First, some of us may think it’s obvious why you shouldn’t ask a pregnant woman if she is having twins, as it implies she is looking rather large.  While this offends some, this doesn’t bother me as I know pregnancy brings about a big belly, and I can get over that.  But, the real reason I think we all really need to think about asking a woman this question is much deeper.

You see, when you ask a pregnant woman “are you sure you don’t have two in there,” what you may not know is that at 7 weeks she went in for an ultrasound due to some stomach pain.

What you most likely don’t know is that during that ultrasound the tech looked at her and said, “Now this is interesting.  I see one baby….and I see two babies.”  And in that instance that mother TOO saw two babies.  Two babies.  Two flickering heart beats.  Two souls growing inside of her.

What you don’t know is that in that moment her heart raced out of pure and utter fear, but perfect excitement. In that moment her heart instantly grew and she was a mother who was now in love with not just her baby #4, but her unexpected baby #5.

What you don’t know is how uneasy she became when the doctor came in and said “I am concerned about the viability of Baby A.  The heart rate is low and growth is a week behind.”  How she heard him mention a few statistics, but all she could think of was how she so badly wanted that little runt, Baby A.

What you didn’t know was that for the next two weeks she and her husband prayed incessantly for God to care for both of the lives inside of her.  That although they were scared to death, they knew there were two beating hearts inside of her that belonged to them.  Their babies.  Their children.

And what you might not know is that for those same two weeks she feverishly Googled “Vanishing Twin Syndrome” to help ease her fears that Baby A would just become another statistic.  That she would find herself getting excited over the thought of bringing two babies into this world, but squashed her excitement with fear and sadness if she was to find out that Baby A didn’t make it.

What you don’t know is that at 9 weeks her ultrasound was one of her most bittersweet moments.  She instantly knew when she looked at the screen that her biggest fear was true.  Baby A’s heartbeat was no longer flickering, no longer present, and no longer alive.  In that moment she battled between rejoicing for a healthy, active Baby B, and feeling crushed as she looked at Baby A’s smaller, almost vacant sac.

What you don’t know is that she sobbed with her husband, and felt guilt for having such grief while she had so much to be thankful for.  She was carrying a thriving Baby B.  Baby #4.

What you don’t know is that a miscarriage is a miscarriage and that no matter if you have another baby, you so deeply mourn the loss of the baby you no longer have, even if you only knew about that baby for 2 weeks.  You equally grieve for the loss as you rejoice for the life.

What you don’t know is that she met with the nurse after this ultrasound who hadn’t realized the results and exclaimed “Congratulations!  How exciting!  Did you know you were having twins?!” So while your heart freshly wounded you had to explain that in fact, you did know, but that you no longer carried two babies.

What you wouldn’t know is that she cried the entire way home while she listened to “Good Good Father,” and because she knows her Father, she belted out:

You’re A Good Good Father

It’s who You are, It’s Who You Are

And I’m Loved by You

It’s Who I am, It’s Who I am

What you don’t know is that when she hears of someone having twins it stings just a bit.  When she sees two babies in the grocery story her heart aches for just a second when she thinks of the “what if.”

What you don’t know is that she rejoices with this new life inside of her, but knows this pregnancy will always carry with it some loss.  The birth will be joyous, but there will be a side of her that grieves what “could have been.”  There will always be an ache in her soul when she remembers that flickering heartbeat at 7 weeks.

You see, when you ask “Are there two in there?” she really REALLY wants to tell you “yes.”  She so wishes the answer was different than the actual response.   When you ask her if she is having twins it stings, because she can’t tell you that yes, indeed, she is carrying the two babies she had prayed for not that long ago.

What you can be sure of is that we are happy, and Baby B is growing and thriving.  What you can be sure of is that we rejoice for the gift God has given us, and we look forward to someday meeting our Baby A.

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(If you ever asked or joked with me about twins, it’s okay 🙂  This isn’t meant to guilt, and I know that it is all in innocence, but I also know that sometimes we don’t realize someones journey or story.  I know my story isn’t common, but I urge you to think twice before you ask a woman if she is carrying twins.  I know 100% that no one has ever meant harm in this common joke)

ADHD: When It “Got In My Way”

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I have somehow always known I had ADHD.  Maybe it was because I took after my brother and my dad (both who have ADD), or because my mom worked with many ADHD kids in her lifetime and just knew it while she was raising me.

Either way, I never had to “come to terms” with the fact that I might have ADHD.  I am thankful I grew up in a home where there was never a stigma placed on such things.   In fact, I think I had more shame with my behavior and not completing projects BEFORE I had a diagnosis.

While I had always known I had ADHD, it took me a long time to get tested. You see, many people are tested as kids.  While in school they exhibit behavior that actually hurts their grades or they get into trouble for being disruptive.  Thankfully, school was a breeze for me growing up and I LOVED it.  The thing with ADHD is that while there is difficulty in keeping attention, there is NO problem with hyper-focusing on things we enjoy.  For me, school was fun.  It was social.  It was interesting, and therefore I skated through Kindergarten to college without a single teach suggesting to my parents I get tested.

As a kid my “job” was school.  After school it was any of my extra-curricular activities, homework, and any chores I might have.  The chores were the toughest part for me.  They were a bore, so it took my mom a good amount of reminders to get me moving (my bedroom in high school was a strong source of tension–I get it now, Mom! 😜).

My ADHD never really reared its ugly head until I got older and gained more responsibility–aka children.  That woman in the picture above had no idea what was coming.  I no longer had to only be accountable to myself, but now I had to keep kids organized.  There were appointments, chores, homework, sports, etc. I barely kept myself organized, and now I had to be responsible for others.  Now, throw in there that I am about 90% sure my oldest has ADHD and we are working with a whole other ball game!  If anyone has a great book with some form of title like “Parenting a Child with ADHD while Managing Your Own ADHD” please send it my way!

With each child I had, I noticed my anxiety heightened. This was confusing for me to figure out, but once I did it was life-changing.  I don’t know what it looks like for everyone, but I found that if my ADHD wasn’t managed it presented as anxiety.  Basically, my brain would become so overwhelmed with trying to prioritize what to do that it would cause anxiety.

Honestly, I have no idea how long I “lived” with my anxiety this way before I finally said “THAT’S IT!  I NEED HELP!”  I do know that I spent a lot of time feeling edgy.  I would be home with kids all day, overwhelmed by the messes, feeling I couldn’t get ahead, and hyper-focusing into any project I had that stimulated my brain.  By the time my husband came home I was crabby.  This was for many reasons:

  1.  I was annoyed at my kids that they didn’t listen or wouldn’t pick up their messes.  The truth is that I didn’t like picking up messes either, and I wouldn’t teach them how.  I would snap at them for not doing things I didn’t even want to do as an adult!  I realize now that I needed to come alongside them to help and to teach.
  2. I was frustrated at myself for not staying on top of the laundry or having the house more “put together.”  I wouldn’t know where to start, so often I wouldn’t EVER start.  I would let things go and let things go and let things go…..
  3.  Last minute I would try to pull together a dinner that wasn’t planned with ingredients I didn’t have (ha-which STILL happens).  At this point in the day I was tired, frustrated with my kids, and disappointed in myself.

By the time Paul walked through the door he wasn’t going to win.  He had a wife who was edgy and annoyed at everyone.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t a complete jerk all the time (right, Paul???).  I just found that the days like I described above happened a good number of times, and they are what I regret and feel guilt about the most “pre-ADHD testing.”

So, back to the question: “When did ADHD get in my way?”  I would say it has always gotten in my way, but I found ways to cope and manage when I was a kid and even married without kids.  I knew it was time to get more help when I was hurting the ones I cared for the most.  My ADHD made it hard to complete basic households tasks, which hurt my family, but mostly it was the anxiety from mismanaged ADHD that hurt them the most.  I was so overwhelmed with the list of tasks I had to complete that I felt everyone was doing things “to me.”  The kids weren’t picking up their toys and I took it personal.  My husband had a late work meeting and I took it personal.

It is easy to convince ourselves that we can manage things.  It is easy to justify why we feel certain things and why we respond certain ways.  It is easy to blame others.

I finally got sick of living this way.  I was tired of never getting ahead and taking it out on my family.  I knew things could be better and I was the only one that could take control of my mental health.

My best advice is that it doesn’t ever hurt to get help.  Getting tested and learning about how my brain works was one of the most empowering decisions I have ever made.

Are things perfect now?  Nope.

Are the better?  Absolutely.

Am I sometimes still a cranky mom and wife?  Not at all 😝  Okay, yes, but not NEAR as often!

Everyone’s story is different.  This is mine. Watch to learn more:

 

 

Let’s Do This

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I have had this domain name awhile, however for some reason I have yet to post anything.  I don’t usually have any issue sharing my thoughts and putting my words out there for the world to read, yet I have been a bit unsure where to begin this blog.

I was reminded yesterday by a woman on my team (Amy Leahy) that just putting something out there is more important than it being perfect.  She recently heard Spencer X Smith speak and he said “80% out the door is better than 100% in the drawer.” While I tend to be someone who fully embraces the imperfect, I have found I can get caught up wanting things to be “just so.”

I finally decided that today is the day! I am done over-thinking this little blog. I am posting SOMETHING here in my little space of the interwebs whether it be eloquently written or not.

This will be a space where I share about life, momming, ADHD, business, Jesus, fashion, driving a trailer full of clothing, and all the things in between.

I am excited to see how this evolves and where it will take me. I’d love if you’d join me!