Uncategorized

Hyperfixation Cuisine: A Love Story

When food is your ride-or-die for two weeks… until it ghosts you.

I don’t fall in love often—but when I do, it’s usually with a snack. A drink. A cereal. A very specific sandwich from one very specific place that I will eat exclusively for 14 days straight like it holds the secrets of the universe and contains all the nutrients my body will ever need. During these passionate food affairs, I become a creature of pure obsession—calculating how many times per day I can reasonably consume my chosen item without judgment, researching the optimal preparation methods, and feeling genuinely excited about meal times in a way that probably isn’t normal for a grown adult. I’ll stock up like I’m preparing for the apocalypse, filling my cart with multiples of the same item while cashiers give me curious looks that I interpret as admiration for my decisive shopping skills. And then? I ghost. Cold turkey. No warning, no closure, no gradual tapering off—just me and my shame in aisle 5, pretending I never knew that Creamsicle shake, avoiding eye contact with the 47 cans of soup I can no longer stomach, and wondering why my brain treats food like a series of intense but doomed romantic relationships.

What Is Hyperfixation Cuisine?

It’s the culinary equivalent of a summer fling. You’re obsessed. You plan your day around it. You talk about it to anyone who will listen (and a few who won’t). You buy in bulk. And then one morning, like a cursed love spell wearing off, it’s done. You’re left with a pantry full of raisin bran and the haunting echoes of a snack you no longer want to eat.

Neurodivergent folks—those of us with ADHD, autism, or both—know this dance well. It’s not a food phase; it’s a full-blown romantic arc.

And science backs us up!

Let’s sneak in some facts while we laugh about it:

Nutritionists would say variety is key. But also? Survival. Joy. Convenience. These are not small things. And if eating the same 3 things on rotation keeps your body going through a rough patch? That’s not failure—that’s strategy.

Plus, it always changes eventually. Usually when you least expect it. Often mid-bite.

Honestly? Laugh. Embrace it. Maybe write a heartfelt goodbye letter to your former food flame. (“Dear Bagel Bites, we had some good times. I’m sorry I abandoned you half-eaten in the freezer door.”)

You don’t have to force variety or shame yourself for what your brain finds comforting. Just make sure you stay fed, hydrated, and somewhat functional. And if one day you find yourself suddenly obsessed with cucumbers in vinegar, just know: you’re not alone.


What was your last food fling? Let me know so I don’t feel like the only one who once ate eleven bowls of raisin bran in one week.

And to all the forgotten snacks still lurking in my pantry…
I loved you once. I swear I did, lol. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves

Uncategorized

The Autistic Teen Whisperer: A Nature Documentary of My Life

INT. KITCHEN – EARLY MORNING
Cue dramatic voiceover, à la David Attenborough:
“If we are quiet… very quiet… we may catch a glimpse of the elusive Autistic Teen in her natural habitat. There! A flash of movement, a hoodie, mismatched socks. Blink and she’s gone. Out the door before the sun can fully rise, leaving behind toast crumbs and an emotional riddle.”

Welcome to the wild world of neurodivergent parenting. I’m your guide, an exhausted mom attempting to decode the rituals, migrations, and sensory triggers of my favorite wild animal: my teenager.


The Habitat

The Autistic Teen typically roams the house after 10 PM, nesting primarily in her bedroom—curated with LED lights, noise-canceling headphones, and Very Specific Textures. Her room is both her sanctuary and her command center, and entering without knocking is a rookie mistake you only make once.

Adaptations observed:

  • Can detect the faintest flicker of a light bulb in another room.
  • Has strong opinions about the temperature and humidity level of her socks.
  • Stores snacks in unexpected places. Foraging is an art.

The Communication Rituals

Communication with the Autistic Teen requires finesse, timing, and a willingness to interpret non-verbal cues like you’re deciphering ancient cave drawings.

Sometimes we exchange whole conversations in Minecraft metaphors or sarcastic cat videos. Sometimes, the best thing I can do is sit quietly nearby and let her stim in peace.


Feeding Habits

She has strong food aversions and sacred favorites. I’ve learned the hard way not to mess with the shape of the nuggets or the brand of the mac and cheese. When in doubt: beige, crunchy, and emotionally comforting.

As her caregiver and personal short-order chef, I’ve adjusted. I stock the sensory-safe foods, experiment with new ones slowly, and always, always have backup pop tarts.


Daily Migration Patterns

Between school, stimming breaks, and doomscrolling, her internal compass doesn’t follow a standard map. There is no “typical” day. But I’ve learned to track her rhythms:

  • Mornings: silent, hoodie up, minimal communication.
  • Afternoons: decompressing with art or YouTube rabbit holes.
  • Evenings: bursts of creativity, hyperfocus, or emotional monsoons.

Every day is an expedition. Sometimes I’m chasing her needs through sensory jungles. Other times, I just try to not mess up her flow.


Challenges in the Wild

Sometimes we clash. My ADHD brain is loud, scattered, and constantly shifting. Her autistic brain is methodical, specific, and easily overwhelmed by chaos. We are two storms learning to move together without wrecking each other.

I talk too much. She gets overwhelmed by too many words. I need novelty. She needs routine. It’s not always elegant, but it’s always ours.


The Mutual Bonding Ritual

The bond between Whisperer and Teen is strong, even if it doesn’t always look that way from the outside. We’ve developed our own language—half memes, half silence, all love. She knows I see her. She knows I’m trying. And I know that even when she disappears into her own world, she leaves the door open a crack.

Sometimes I catch her watching me with a mix of exasperation and affection.
Sometimes she randomly tells me a fact about spiders or space or mental health that makes me cry with pride.
Sometimes she texts me from her room to say, “thanks for not being annoying today.”

I count that as a win.


Closing Narration

This isn’t about having it all figured out. It’s about showing up anyway, even when the jungle is loud, the routines are broken, and the brain fog is real.

Because love, it turns out, is the greatest adaptation of all. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other.

Uncategorized

Body Function Bingo

A totally real medical game where everyone’s a winner and no one feels good.

🎯 1. The Surprise Soundtrack

Symptom: Your joints crack like bubble wrap every time you move.
Fun fact: The average human knee wasn’t designed to sound like a haunted rocking chair — yet here we are.
Personal take: I’m TERRIFIED of moving like swaying because I’ve been warned repeatedly if my hip pops out I wont enjoy it. I keep remembering how EASY my hip used to pop out, I gotta be mindful of yet another ailment; *Dramatic fall upon our ‘fainting couch’ only to pop right back up*


🧠 2. Brain Fog Blackout

Symptom: You walk into a room and instantly forget why.
Science says: Fibro and ADHD can both affect working memory. That means your brain’s “clipboard” is full of glitter and expired coupons.
Pro tip: Keep a notebook, or just live in the room you walked into. It’s yours now. Your life exists there.


🔥 3. Is It a Hot Flash or Anxiety?

Symptom: Sudden wave of heat. Chest tight. Soul leaving body?
Reality: Could be hormones, could be panic, could be both. Whee!
Personal take: Am I the only one who walks around with sweats on *mostly* but when a hot flash hits, I’m in a tank and shorts, that I also set out to wear today because I did this so often that now I pick out a 4 piece outfit every day? Its like my anemia and my hormones have a time share in the place that controls my temp.


🎭 4. Mood Swing Square Dance

Symptom: Feeling fine → rage → tears → existential dread → cookie?
FYI: Bipolar mood shifts are no joke. Hormones and chronic pain don’t help.
Fun twist: Sometimes the mood changes faster than your outfit.


🧃 5. “Ow” Before It Happens

Symptom: You say “ow” before doing the thing.
Science says: Anticipatory pain is real in chronic illness brains. It’s like your nervous system’s version of spoilers.
Bonus round: Saying “ow” also applies to thoughts and feelings now.


🧬 6. Random Pain That Leaves as Mysteriously as It Came

Symptom: Stabbed in the ribs by an invisible elf. Gone five seconds later.
No explanation. No follow-up. No peace.
Personal take: (That sharp twinge in your back today? Yep.) I’m honestly not sure about back pain there are far too many terrible things it could be (thanks Dr Google) but its me so of COURSE we escalate to the worst case scenario, but its just as likely these days to be muscle strain. It was stabby and dull and seemed to move while radiating from the same region. Magic.


📺 7. Micro-Naps & Blinking Time Warps

Symptom: You swear it was just 2:30pm. Now it’s 4:17 and you’re holding a half-eaten piece of toast.
What’s happening: Could be fatigue, could be disassociation, could be alien abduction.
Helpful? No. Hilarious? Sometimes.


How many squares did you hit today? Bingo or just big ‘nope’? Either way — you’re still here, and that’s a win. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other.

Uncategorized

Hot Weather, No Problem: 2 Weeks of Summer Dinners That Won’t Heat Up Your House

Your August-friendly, spoonie-tested meal plan with recipes, reserves, and a grocery list that won’t make you sweat (literally or figuratively).

Because it’s August. The sun is trying to kill us. I don’t know about you all, but I’m over this heat! Bring me sweater weather! And the idea of turning on the oven is borderline offensive while mother nature is giving us this 100+ degree nonsense.. But we still need to eat, right? So here’s a two-week dinner plan designed to save your spoons, your sanity, and your electric bill. I went a whole summer once with only using the crockpot. Lots of research went into it but it did help not having to run the oven, and limited running of the stove top. You’ll see strategic “reserve” nights for leftovers or backup meals, plus flexible recipes using what you’ve already got.


🍽️ Week 17 and 18 Menu (Crisis-Friendly and Summer-Approved)

Sunday:
🎉 Out to Eat – It’s My Daughter’s Birthday!
(If you’re not celebrating someone’s life, I still give you full permission to skip cooking.)

Monday (Reserve Night):
Snack plate, leftovers, or a no-cook rescue meal

Tuesday:
🌭 Sausage, Peppers & Potatoes Skillet
→ Just toss sausage slices, bell peppers, and diced potatoes into a skillet. Season with olive oil, garlic powder, salt, and pepper. Cook until golden and tender.

Wednesday (Reserve Night):
Use what’s left or pretend cheese and crackers is a full meal. (It is, hence lunchables exist.)

Thursday:
🍝 Pasta with Meat Sauce
→ Brown ground beef or sausage, stir in tomato sauce, garlic, onion, Italian seasoning. Serve over cooked pasta. Easy, satisfying, barely a sweat.

Friday (Reserve Night):
Whatever’s easiest. Pizza, wrap, cereal… judgment-free zone.

Saturday:
🧄 Garlic Butter Chicken Bites with Rice + Green Beans
→ Chicken breast cut into chunks, seared in garlic butter with herbs. Serve with rice (instant is fine!) and green beans, frozen or fresh.


🍽️ Week 18 Menu (Low Heat, High Reward)

Sunday:
🥘 Crockpot Chicken & Peppers over Rice
→ Chicken thighs or breasts + sliced peppers + garlic + a little broth and salsa in the crockpot for 4–6 hrs. Serve over rice.

Monday (Reserve Night):
Dinner roulette: whatever shows up when you open the fridge.

Tuesday:
🥔 Loaded Potato Bowls (Dairy-Free)
→ Roast or skillet-fry diced potatoes. Top with leftover chicken or sausage, green beans, onions, drizzle of olive oil + garlic salt.

Wednesday (Reserve Night):
No stress. Pull out leftovers or do DIY sandwich night.

Thursday:
🍅 One-Pot Garlic Herb Pasta
→ Pasta, diced tomato, garlic, and herbs cooked in one pot with water or broth until creamy and tender. Olive oil instead of butter or cream. Done.

Friday (Reserve Night):
No cooking. Everyone fends for themselves. That’s self-care.

Saturday:
🍲 Stovetop Chicken & Rice with Garlic Broth
→ Chicken sautéed with garlic and onion, simmered in broth with rice until fluffy and flavorful. Comfort food without the oven.

🧠 Spoonie Tips for Sanity:

Reserves = You win at meal planning even when you don’t cook.

Cook extra rice or pasta and use it again later.

Crockpot liners are your BFF.

Thats all I’ve got for you today folks, just over here trying not to melt lol. Til next time, take care of yourselves, and each other.

Uncategorized

The PTSD Plot Twist: How Nearly Dying Made Living Feel Impossible

The unexpected psychological aftermath of medical trauma that nobody warns you about.

You’d think that surviving something as dramatic as your heart stopping would make you grateful for every breath, right? That’s what everyone assumes. That’s what I assumed. But here’s the plot twist nobody talks about: sometimes surviving the unsurvivable doesn’t make you appreciate life more—it makes living feel impossibly dangerous.

Welcome to the mind-bending world of medical trauma PTSD, where your brain decides that since you almost died once, you’re probably about to die again. Any minute now. Maybe even right now while you’re reading this.

The Science Behind the Psychological Sucker Punch

Here’s what the research says about cardiac arrest survivors that no one mentioned in the hospital discharge paperwork: the prevalence of PTSD among us is high. Like, surprisingly high. Studies vary, but they all agree it’s not just a few people who “can’t handle it.”

Even worse? PTSD in cardiac arrest survivors is linked to a significantly higher risk of another heart event or death within a year. So, while your brain is tormenting you with the idea that you’re going to die… that very torment might actually make you more likely to die.

It’s psychological Russian roulette, designed by a trauma specialist with a PhD in irony.

When I first woke up, I was full of gratitude. My brain was too busy relearning how to walk and do basic things to spiral about what almost happened. But once the dust settled? That’s when the fear moved in.

The Hypervigilance Trap: When Your Body Becomes the Threat

Hypervigilance means constantly scanning your surroundings for danger. But when the danger came from inside your own body, where exactly are you supposed to feel safe?

Every chest flutter is a heart attack. Every dizzy spell is a stroke. And don’t even get me started on tracking your own breathing. Your body becomes a 24/7 threat detection system, and you’re the one being surveilled.

I drink water like it’s a competition. I got a fitness tracker. I monitor every symptom: is that back pain from fibro, chronic kidney disease, or something more sinister? Often, I’ve just pulled a muscle from existing too hard—but my brain doesn’t buy that.

The Symptoms No One Prepares You For

We all know PTSD comes with flashbacks, nightmares, and anxiety. But medical PTSD has some bonus round features:

  • Medical Setting Panic: The sound of a heart monitor beep? Instant terror.
  • Body Betrayal Complex: Your once-trusty body now feels like a traitor.
  • Gratitude Guilt: You’re supposed to feel thankful, but mostly you feel terrified. Then you feel guilty about not feeling thankful. It’s like emotional inception.
  • Hypervigilant Exhaustion: Your body never relaxes, so your muscles never heal. Which means you always hurt. Which means your mood crashes. And the cycle repeats.

When I close my eyes, I don’t see calm or rest. I see regret. Unfinished business. Conversations I didn’t have. My muscles are always clenched. If I’m always hurting, I’m always depressed—and if I’m depressed, I’m even more tense. Rinse and repeat.

When Existing Conditions Complicate the Picture

If you already had health issues, medical trauma PTSD is like throwing a grenade into a house of cards. For me, fibromyalgia, ADHD, and bipolar disorder were already hard enough. Add PTSD?

  • ADHD + Hypervigilance = Brain ping-pong with a side of dread.
  • Bipolar + Trauma = Racing thoughts that might be mania or might be panic. Who knows?
  • Fibro + PTSD = Every ache becomes a “what if.”

The Irony of Fighting Fear While Pretending You Aren’t

The most exhausting part? You know it sounds ridiculous. You know your stats. You know not every chest tightness is a heart attack. But logic doesn’t matter. PTSD doesn’t speak statistics.

So you’re fighting fear with one hand while pretending to be okay with the other. Panic attack on the inside, small talk on the outside.

The Treatment Nobody Mentions

Here’s a shred of hope: studies show mindfulness-based therapy can actually help cardiac arrest survivors manage PTSD. It’s not one-size-fits-all, but it’s a start.

The problem is, most doctors don’t screen for PTSD after a medical event. They’re focused on your physical recovery. The emotional wreckage? Not on the chart.

Living in the Plot Twist

Some days, I can go hours without mentally scanning every inch of my body. Other days, it’s like I have ESPN for doom.

The real twist? Surviving doesn’t always make you feel grateful. It can make you feel fragile. And maybe that’s okay.

Maybe we don’t need to bounce back stronger. Maybe we just need to keep going, scared or not. That’s resilience too.

The Ongoing Experiment

Every day, I try to live without panicking about living. Some days I fail. Some days I don’t. But I’m still here. Still experimenting. Still trying. Til next time gang, you’re not alone, take care of yourselves, and each other!

If you’re navigating this too, you’re not broken. You’re not being dramatic. You’re surviving something nobody talks about.


Sources:

  1. Columbia University Department of Psychiatry – Mindfulness-based Therapy for Cardiac Arrest Survivors
  2. PubMed – PTSD in Cardiac Arrest Survivors
  3. American Heart Association – Psychological Impact of Cardiac Arrest
  4. Cleveland Clinic – PTSD Symptoms and Treatment
  5. Mayo Clinic – PTSD Causes and Risk Factors
  6. Bay Area CBT Center – Understanding Hypervigilance
  7. Balanced Awakening – Hypervigilance and Trauma
Uncategorized

What Rest Feels Like When You’re Used to Being in Crisis

Rest is weird.

Let’s just start there. Because when your baseline is fight-or-flight, freeze-or-fawn, dissociate-or-die-trying… “rest” doesn’t always feel peaceful. Sometimes it feels like guilt. Or like you’re forgetting something. Like you’re doing life wrong.

If you’ve lived in survival mode for months or years—or forever—it’s not just that you don’t rest. It’s that you’ve forgotten what real rest is supposed to feel like.

1. Rest Feels Like Uncertainty at First

The first few minutes of trying to rest when you’re used to chaos? Horrible. It’s like the world got too quiet and suddenly your brain is staging a protest:

  • “Shouldn’t you be doing something right now?”
  • “Is the other shoe about to drop?”
  • “Are you being lazy or just conveniently forgetful?”

I have terrible self talk and my therapist always has me ‘reframe’ things. Turns out, your nervous system isn’t sure what to do when it isn’t in go-go-go mode. It gets twitchy. Suspicious. Like a cat in a bathtub.

2. Rest Can Look Lazy When It’s Actually Life-Saving

Rest isn’t always bubble baths and soft jazz. Sometimes rest looks like staring at the ceiling, numb and unmoving, because that’s all your body can manage. And that counts. Especially when you’re healing.

Some people take naps. Sometimes I can but I keep naps under an hour if exhaustion hits.
Others… collapse. I’ve done that. I’ve driven cross country 21 hours and legitimately passed out cold. I was apparently parked in front my aunt’s neighbors tennant’s garage and they banged on the window, clearly seeing me sleeping on the couch and not hearing them. LOL They thought I was dead,

Same nervous system need, just wearing different outfits.

3. Rest Doesn’t Mean Everything Is Fixed

Here’s the kicker: you can be exhausted and doing nothing. That’s not failure. That’s biology catching up.

Rest doesn’t mean you’re healed, fixed, or suddenly energetic. Though it helps when the goal is reached. Sometimes it’s just the space between breakdowns. And that’s okay. That’s real. That’s progress, even if it doesn’t sparkle.

4. Rest Can Feel Like Withdrawal

When adrenaline has been your main fuel source, rest can feel like crashing after a sugar binge. You may feel down, irritable, even achey. You’re not broken. Your brain’s just recalibrating. Imagine detoxing from chaos. That’s what this is. Detoxing from adrenaline.

5. You Might Feel Worthless While Resting—But You’re Not

This one cuts deep: “If I’m not producing, I’m not valuable.” Sound familiar?

That’s a trauma belief, not a truth. My eyes were opened with this little nugget, my therapist was the one who started it, and I did believe no one cared about me unless I did things for them, even though I love people without calculating what they can do for me, my brain was hard-wired to tell me I was worthless and I STILL have more days I believe the bad over the good about myself. Curious to see how many of you guys have felt that way too.

We live in a society that measures worth by productivity, but healing means learning your value exists even when you’re still. Even when you’re not doing. You don’t have to earn your rest. You deserve it because you’re human and thats hard enough.


So How Do You Learn to Feel Rest?

Gently. And over time.

Here are a few ways to start:

  • Name it. Tell yourself, “I am resting right now,” even if it feels like loafing.
  • Track your thoughts. Notice when guilt or shame show up. Are they old scripts? Keep a journal by your bed and write whats bothering you down before you lay down so you know you can work on it tomorrow.
  • Set tiny rest rituals. One song. One stretch. One sit on the porch. Practice. One little thing, whatever it is, that gets your mind to stop spinning and rest.
  • Celebrate doing less. Rest is not a reward. It’s a requirement. Its hard NOT to reward ourselves with rest, thats why we have to re-frame our thoughts how we talk to ourselves.

Final Thought: If You’ve Been in Crisis, You Deserve to Feel Safe in Stillness

That’s the hard part—retraining your body and brain to trust quiet moments. But you can. One awkward attempt at a time. You’re not failing when rest feels weird. You’re rewiring. That’s brave work.

And if no one’s told you lately: you’re doing a damn good job surviving. Now, let’s practice what it means to actually live. It feels like all I’ve done my adult life is to go from surviving one thing to surviving the next, I’m going to try and make more time to look around and enjoy the in between. I’ll keep you posted. If anyone has any tips to help with rest be kind and share it with the class. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other!

Uncategorized

Things I Forgave Myself For This Week

Some weeks you crush goals.
Some weeks you just survive with your dignity slightly intact.
This week? I did a little of both, and I’m not dragging myself for the rest. I’m not. Ok, I am TRYING not to lol. I looked up all these things so we know, this happens to alot of us.

Here’s what I’m letting go of:

Eating crackers for dinner.
It was beige. It was crunchy. It was all I had in me. I know its not nutritional, but I put peanut butter on them, that counts right?

People with chronic pain or fatigue often struggle with meal prep. One study found that when we remove the guilt, we’re more likely to eat again tomorrow—and better. (Neff, 2003)

 Snapping at a stranger when I was overstimulated.
Was it my finest moment? No. But was it the end of the world? Also no.

Emotional dysregulation is common in both ADHD and bipolar. Reframe the moment to be more valuable than perfection. Modeling apology actually builds trust. (Siegel & Bryson, 2011)

Crying over a tv personality retiring.
But who will give me the news everyday at 6? I won’t be able to get the exact same news and information from the person they already filled the position with.

Not cleaning up the kitchen. Or the bathroom. Or basically anything.
The mess wasn’t going anywhere. The mess NEVER goes anywhere, its relentless. Unfortunately, my energy very much goes away lol.

Fatigue from chronic illness isn’t laziness. Research shows that pacing (doing less on purpose) leads to more consistent function long-term. (Nielson et al., 2013)

Skipping my meds one day, even though I knew better.
I forgot. That’s it. That’s the reason.

People with ADHD and mood disorders often struggle with medication consistency. Shame spirals make it worse. Compassion-based routines improve long-term adherence. (Safren et al., 2005)

Needing space from literally everyone.
Even the people I like. Especially them. Even the cats.

Sensory overload and mental fatigue demand recovery time. Boundaries aren’t selfish—they’re how we stay functional. (Brown, 2019)

 Wishing I had a different body.
This one feels broken. I still have to live here. Down to the tip of my hair I want everything new. Or I’ll take recycled, I shop at thrift stores

Body grief is real in chronic illness. Acceptance doesn’t mean joy—it just means recognizing pain without adding shame to it. (Cash & Pruzinsky, 2002)

Wanting to give up.
But I didn’t. I just wanted to. And that counts.

Suicidal ideation and burnout can flare in depression or mania recovery. Naming those moments gives you back control. It’s a signal—not a verdict. I’m trying my best to make the most positive of that signal that I possibly can. (Linehan, 1993)

💬 Final Thought:

If this list hits home, maybe you need to make one of your own.

Forgive the little stuff.
Forgive the big stuff.
Forgive the you that’s still trying, even if it doesn’t look like much from the outside.

You’re not weak. You’re wicked strong for feeling this much and still showing up. Til next time gang. Take care of yourselves, and each other!

Uncategorized

What I Wish People Knew About Parenting With a Body That Doesn’t Cooperate

(AKA: This body is glitchy, but the kids still need lunch.)

Most days, I’m parenting from a horizontal position — on the couch, in the bed, or emotionally face-down in a bowl of cereal. And no, it’s not because I’m lazy. It’s because my body and brain don’t always play nice. Parenting with chronic illness (and some extra mental health sprinkles) isn’t just a different experience — it’s an entirely different reality.

But unless you’re in it, it’s hard to truly understand. So let’s talk about it.


First of all, let’s acknowledge the facts.

  • Parenting is exhausting for anyone, but for people with chronic illnesses like fibromyalgia, arthritis, lupus, or conditions like bipolar disorder and ADHD, it’s a next-level endurance test.
  • A 2019 study published in Health Psychology Open found that parents with chronic pain often experience higher levels of stress, fatigue, and feelings of guilt, especially when they can’t physically engage the way they want to.
  • Many of us deal with “invisible disabilities”, which means the world still expects us to perform like we’re running at 100%… when we’re often at 37% and glitching.

Here’s what chronic parenting really looks like:

  • I’ve prepped lunch while sitting on a stool, with my heating pad strapped to my back and a migraine drilling behind my eyes.
  • I’ve cheered from the car at events because walking across a field was out of the question that day.
  • I’ve been too tired to parent, but parented anyway because these tiny humans don’t come with a pause button.

My kids not only did school things, they did extra curricular things that I’d try and cheer them on for, and maybe the hardest part of that was to remember even in my discomfort my kids are forming memories and I really feel like the most important thing is showing up. The kids see your effort (or they will at some point) and I think its also a good lesson to teach them if its important, you find a way.


🧰 The skill set no one talks about

Sure, I can’t chase my kid around the park like some parents, but I’ve got other skills that are just as powerful:

  • Empathy: I notice when my kid is struggling, even when they don’t say it. That’s the emotional fluency that comes from living in survival mode.
  • Creative problem solving: If you’ve ever turned a laundry basket into a mobile toy bin so you don’t have to get up? You qualify. Incidentally get a grabber. I didnt have one until I had to be creative after my hip replacement, the grabber is a life saver for so simple it was honestly life changing lol.
  • Prioritizing rest over perfection: I’ve learned that being present matters more than doing it all. Show up even if it means napping.
  • Teaching independence: Out of necessity, my kids know how to microwave their snacks and fold their laundry. That’s not failure — it’s life skills.

    I’ve learned even in not being able to do things I’m teaching them to try, when faced with a choice of giving up or maybe altering something just enough to make it the right fit for you.

😞 The guilt is real. So is the resilience.

It hurts when I have to say no because my joints are angry or my brain is on fire. I hate the days when I feel like a spectator instead of a participant. And sometimes I worry about the memories my kids will hold — will they remember the things I couldn’t do?

But then they crawl into bed with me and asking ‘snuggle me in?’ and I realize they don’t see my limits the way I do. They see love, even on the hard days. Or the youngest one does, I don’t speak for the older two. There were days I didnt show up for them and I regret it. That being said, life only goes in one direction. You’ve got to keep walking with it adjusting as you go.


💬 What I want you to know

If you’re not parenting through chronic illness, here’s what helps:

  • Don’t offer unsolicited advice unless you’re also offering childcare or dinner.
  • Don’t assume we’re fine because we look okay for five minutes.
  • Ask how we’re really doing, and mean it.
  • Celebrate the small wins with us — like getting everyone dressed and vaguely fed before noon.

💛 And if you are one of us…

Parenting with a glitchy body, a misfiring brain, or both? You’re not alone. You’re not broken. And your kids don’t need perfect — they need you.

Even if today’s victory is frozen waffles and letting the screen time run wild while you rest? That counts.

You’re doing enough. More than enough.


Want to connect with more parents who get it?
👉 https://www.pinterest.com/wannabenormal/
or visit my etsy shop https://www.etsy.com/shop/JoknowsCreations
📌 Share this post to remind another spoonie mama she’s not alone.
Til next time gang. Take care of yourselves, and each other!!!

Uncategorized

Lessons from a Neurospicy Household

(Or: Things I’ve Learned the Hard Way and Now Pass Off as Wisdom)

1️⃣ If you open the dishwasher to “just add one thing,” congratulations. You now live here.
Ownership transfers upon entry. If you can’t fill it, go check your room. I know you dont eat in there as a general rule but go look and see if the random missing spoon is hanging out with the stray socks in their hideout.

2️⃣ “We’ll deal with it later” is a valid strategy until further notice.
No one said when later is. Legally, you’re covered. Until 5 pm when all the things you were going to do catch up and your teenager is asking why something isnt done to their exacting standards.

3️⃣ Matching socks are a social construct.
As are bedtimes, sanity, and tidy junk drawers. For socks, maybe track some other missing stuff (like the spoon from before), I swear theres a Narnia or hiding dimension.

4️⃣ No one has ever truly recovered from stepping on a rogue Lego.
We carry these wounds in silence. And orthopedic inserts. My kitty in the sky Bonkers used to sleep on them, a full bucket without the lid, weirdo. Miss you little dude but thanks for sending me Fryday who amuses me endlessly, but I still miss you!

5️⃣ If you set something down ‘just for a second,’ it’s gone forever.
Gone to the shadow realm. Gone where keys and pens go to die. See narnia, also with socks and spoons. And the tupperware lids vs tupperware ratio is always uneven so I blame them too.

6️⃣ Your brain will retain the lyrics to a 1997 boy band hit but not why you walked into the room.
Priorities. We don’t make the rules. Its tearing up my heart that you don’t ‘remember the time’ you walked into a room and left with exactly what you walked in there for but honestly ‘bye bye bye’ to that dream because honestly we’re ‘never gonna get it no never gonna get it’

7️⃣ Snacks are sacred.
Do not touch another’s designated snack without first drafting a formal agreement and receiving notarized consent. I think it sucks so much worse when you crave a texture and have no food with that texture available. Like I hate it when I bring home fresh baked goods because I can only eat one every few days or I forget its there. I MIGHT get one. Vultures.

8️⃣ If the ADHD person in your house starts cleaning, DO NOT INTERRUPT.
You’re witnessing a natural phenomenon rarer than a solar eclipse. Often whats good is pulling up a rag and joining them, not that you need to do any of the cleaning, they’ll do it but they will do it alot faster if you join them.

9️⃣ We don’t do ‘normal’ here.
We tried. It was exhausting. Weird is cheaper and fits better. I have discussed this at length, I know the name is deceiving because I love being weird and don’t want any part of me normal lol. There was a time I did strive to an impossibly high level too. That me burned herself out a decade ago.

🔟 The motto remains: Lower the bar, keep the vibe.
Survival with style. That’s the goal. Often its just survival.


Closing Thought:

Some houses run on routine, others run on vibes and caffeine.
Guess which one we are. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other!

Uncategorized

Survival and Sanity Reserve-Based Meal Plan: Weeks [Insert Numbers Because I Lost Track LOL]

(its 15&16 I did go back and look)]

Chronic Illness Friendly • ADHD Approved • Neurospicy Tested

Welcome back to another two weeks of me pretending I’ve got it together. I do not in fact, have ANYTHING together and this week has taxed my brain so much I am ready to not have to make the dinner decisions for a few more weeks. Does this work for you guys? I have found I am spending less on groceries. (Thanks for the tips about my low spoon days btw!) This is how I keep myself from crying into a crumpled DoorDash receipt: six planned dinners that don’t require Michelin star skills, plus reserve meals to fill in the gaps when I’m too tired, too sore, or too done with everyone’s nonsense to cook.


Here’s what I’ve got for you:
A 2-week plan.
Six home-cooked meals.
Eight “reserve” meals pulled from pantry, freezer, or leftovers.
A printable grocery list.
Recipes that don’t require you to pretend you’re a Food Network star.

Because some days you’re Julia Child. Some days you’re just a tired gremlin trying to survive until bedtime.


The Lineup: What We’re Cooking

Cook Days (3-4x per week)

These are meals you’ll actually make with fresh-ish ingredients and some degree of effort.

1️⃣ Slow Cooker Italian Beef Sandwiches

Juicy chuck roast, spicy giardiniera, hoagie rolls. Perfect for people who forgot to plan dinner but did remember how to dump things into a crockpot.

2️⃣ Honey Garlic Chicken Thighs (Stovetop)

Savory-sweet chicken served with rice and frozen stir-fry veggies. Quick. Easy. Tastes like you tried.

3️⃣ Garlic Butter Chicken Bites (Skillet)

Pan-fried happiness in butter and garlic, paired with green beans and potatoes (microwave or skillet — you do you).

4️⃣ Smothered Chicken & Rice Bake

One pan. Chicken thighs. Rice. Cream-of-something soup. Zero regrets.

5️⃣ Kielbasa & Potato Skillet

Hearty, fast, requires almost no brain cells. Bonus points if you add onions.

6️⃣ Baked Pasta

Cheesy, saucy, optionally beefy. Feeds a crowd or just you for three days.


Reserve Days (4-5x per week)

These are your “I cannot even” days. Pantry, freezer, leftovers, and minimal thought required.
BBQ Chicken Sandwiches (reserve buns, chips, pickles)

Chicken Fried Rice (leftover rice, frozen veggies, quick stir-fry)

Leftovers (Italian Beef, Kielbasa, Pasta)

Frozen pizza

Pantry pasta + jar sauce

Breakfast-for-dinner (pancakes, eggs, cereal, who’s judging?)kles)

Chicken Fried Rice (leftover rice, frozen veggies, quick stir-fry)

Leftovers (Italian Beef, Kielbasa, Pasta)

Frozen pizza

Pantry pasta + jar sauce

  • BBQ Chicken Sandwiches (reserve buns, pulled chicken)
  • Chicken Fried Rice (rice + strips + frozen veg)
  • Leftover Italian Beef
  • Kielbasa & Potatoes leftovers
  • Frozen pizza
  • Pantry pasta + jar sauce
  • Freezer sandwiches
  • Breakfast for dinner (eggs, toast, sausage)

🎯 Why This Works (For Me, Maybe You Too)

You’re not overspending on groceries you’re too tired to cook.

You’re only cooking 3-4x a week.

You’ve got backup meals in reserve.

You’re not reinventing the wheel every night.

You get to stop asking, “What’s for dinner?”
Thats all I got today guys, til next time, take care of yourselves, and each other!