If you were expecting another blog where some woman prattles on about how to be the perfect parent under any circumstance, this blog is not for you. If you are looking for someone who has it all together, who keeps her house spotless, whose children are always well behaved, you should probably look elsewhere. However, if you’re looking for someone to struggle with, someone who fails, someone who is just trying to get through her day without anyone being injured or going hungry, then you have come to the right place.

I’m not going to pretend to be something I’m not. I will never be that “up at 5 AM, making a complete breakfast from scratch for my darling children.” type of mother. I will never be that “doing all the things for the PTA” type of mom. If you need a mom like that, I know a few. You probably do, too. However, I am not one of them. I struggle daily just to be consistent and to keep my kids on a schedule– any schedule– and if you do, too, then we’ll probably get along.

But maybe you’d like to get to know me better before you make that decision for yourself.

I grew up in what was, at the time, a small suburban community of the greater Sacramento area. An only child in a two-income household, I spent a lot of my time in after school care. My parents wanted me to be a well-rounded individual, so they enrolled me in soccer, ballet, and piano. I hated to practice and was really more of a tomboy in those days, so I only ended up sticking with soccer, though would later come to regret this decision as an adult when I could neither play the piano very well nor dance.

I was diagnosed with ADHD-pi (primarily inattentive) when I was twelve. The answer to a lot of questions my parents had about why I was such a ‘difficult child’ at home, had difficulty navigating friendships and failed to do well in school despite having at least an adequate level of intelligence in comparison with other kids my age. Back then, ADHD was sub-categorized into “classic ADHD” for those who had the hyperactivity associated with the disorder, and “ADD” for those, such as myself, who lacked the outward hyperactivity. This is most likely the reason it took them five years to diagnose me, as I first started seeing psychologists at seven years old because of my angry outbursts and age-inappropriate behavior. I recall early on one psychologist noting of me that I had a great ability to sit still for long periods of time. I do not recall anything else she said, as there was a whole world inside my head, keeping me busy– too busy to be bothered about doing things like moving; or listening. The co-current diagnosis of Anxiety would not come until much later when I was well established into adulthood.

For a while, I did well enough on medication. There was an improvement in my grades. I even made a few friends. But a change to the ingredients saw to me making the choice to not continue on medication (there were few options at the time) because the side effects were too severe to outweigh the benefits. I soon realized I was not the only one with this issue. I did, however, find many other ways to compensate for my struggles, and by the time I graduated college, not even my psychology professors had any clue that I had ADHD, and I graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree in Psychology with a focus on Applied Behavior Analysis and three credits shy of a minor in creative writing.

For a time, I worked with Autistic children in the field of ABA, and though I found it enjoyable, it clashed with my anxiety as well as my ADHD, and I eventually had to admit that the job I had specifically worked my way through college to obtain was not a good fit for me. Admitting defeat, I settled into working a retail position as my husband went through school on his GI Bill. This was also not a great fit, but I took what I had learned in college about masking my ADHD and my anxiety, and for five years, no one found out about my disorders unless I wanted them to.

Now I work from home as a part-time writer and full-time mother of two beautiful children, plus one on the way (who I am certain will also be beautiful). My son has also been diagnosed with ADHD, but he either has the classic form or the combined, as his hyperactivity is apparent enough that he only needed a single session with a psychiatrist to be diagnosed. My daughter, only time will tell. Does she show signs? Certainly, but so do most three-year-old kids. She is imaginative, rambunctious, and finds her way into trouble easily. I raise them to the best of my ability using the ABA methods I learned in school, a degree I now jokingly refer to as my “degree in common sense parenting.” Not that anyone needs a degree in that.

I look forward to their self-discovery of who they are, and who they will one day become, and with any luck, I will give them the tools they need to cope with any anxiety or ADHD related struggles as I learn these skills for myself.