Useless anxieties are what you’ve got when developmentally appropriate is beside the point, typically atypical is where it’s at, and your cabinets are stocked with organic gluten-free soy products and no artificial colors.

(Or, at least, mostly.)

(Or, at least, you’ve tried that. On again, off again.)

So, if your kitchen table was upended–breakfast and all–at 7:25 this morning right before the carpool arrived, if your little lawless darling is impervious to all known forms of discipline, if (like me) you’ve got more therapists for your family than members of your family, and if your heart feels half broken because this is sometimes funny and oftentimes not, then you’re in the right place.

Mothering ADHD is not a spectator sport.


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