Tag: #RealMomLife

Uncategorized

Parenting Through the Fog: ADHD, Fibromyalgia, and Showing Up Anyway

JoLeave a comment

Some mornings, the win is just getting pants on. Other mornings, it’s breakfast made, meds taken, laundry halfway done before noon, and a gold star for basic humaning. But when you live with both Bipolar and fibromyalgia, (with a little ADHD thrown in for good measure) parenting becomes less of a schedule and more of a survival sport.

And the thing no one tells you? Showing up imperfectly still counts.

The Day-to-Day: A Symphony of Chaos and Grit

On paper, it probably looks like we’re flaky. Late to the appointment, forgot the school form (again), still haven’t finished the laundry from last Tuesday. In reality, it’s brain fog, chronic pain, executive dysfunction, and a nervous system that acts like it’s sprinting from a bear… while we’re just trying to make dinner.

It’s the kind of exhaustion you can’t nap your way out of.

Some days you’re the mom who makes Halloween costumes from scratch. Other days you’re the mom who considers goldfish crackers and applesauce a win. You are both and neither — and you are enough.

💡 My Daily Routine (On a Good-ish Day):

I am up at 4. No reason for it, just can’t sleep any later ever since my heart when I was in the hospital, first thing they did was draw blood so I think I started getting up early to psych myself up for it lol/
I do my Duolingo (gotta get to exercising the brain) I ‘watch the news’, I listen to all the late night monologues and any interviews I wanted to catch, or just some music in my headphones when the news isnt interesting.
This is the quiet start to the day..
5:30 First attempt waking hubby
6 First attempt waking up monkey
Usually I watch the news or do my steps in between going room to room rousing people.
6:30 daughters not up start getting irritated.
7:40 I feed and medicate the furry children
8 I start on either post or making something.
10 I have to eat to take my meds
12 the cats get fed and medicated again
12-3 Always cleaning. Folding clothes, vacuuming and dishes usually round out my day.
4 I typically start either project or chat with daughter about her day, dinner
5:30 all my chores are done by now, or as I say to them ‘if it aint done it aint gettin done til tomorrow’
I watch tv til 8 and put myself into bed, usually falling asleep, when I don’t I get up and take a gummie, because I NEED sleep and no matter what time I go to bed I am up at 4, so might as well get some sleep you know?

This might be the hardest for me. Or it WAS, I’m finally letting go.

Spoonie-friendly routines. Simplify where you can. Wash days spaced out. Clothes that don’t need ironing. Outsource or automate what you can.
I have an every other day routine because I am honest with myself and I know I need a day to recover after a productive day LOL

Movement, but gentle. Stretching or chair yoga instead of pretending we’re still in our 20s with full cartilage and a pain-free morning.
Walking, so much walking lol

Let someone help. Even if it’s just asking your kid to throw their trash away. Micro-help still counts.
Stop feeling guilt, other people have hands and feet too!

Digital checklists or ADHD-friendly planners (visual, colorful, forgiving of missed days).
I might know somewhere to get them… LOL Seriously I love mine and feeling halfway organized.

The Numbers Behind the Fog

  • ADHD is underdiagnosed in women by huge margins. One study found girls are 50–75% less likely to be diagnosed than boys, often because they’re more “daydreamy” than disruptive.
  • Fibromyalgia affects 80–90% women, and often takes 5+ years to diagnose. Why? Because women’s pain is historically minimized or chalked up to anxiety.
  • Executive dysfunction isn’t laziness — it’s a brain-based difficulty in initiating, organizing, and following through on tasks. ADHD and fibro both contribute as does the Bipolar.
  • Bipolar disorder is frequently misdiagnosed in women, often as depression or borderline personality disorder. Studies show up to 69% of women with bipolar are initially misdiagnosed, and the average delay before an accurate diagnosis is 6 to 8 years.

So yeah… it’s not in your head. But even if it were, that would still be real.


You’re Not a Failure, You’re a Force

If all you did today was exist in your body and care about your kids, you’ve already done the hard part.

The parenting books didn’t cover flare days or mental fog. But we are writing the new manual: one honest, messy, beautiful chapter at a time.

You’re not alone, you’re not broken — and you don’t have to do this perfectly to be doing it well. Til next time guys, take care of yourselves, and each other

🔍 Sources to Back It All Up

  1. ADHD underdiagnosed in girls/women
  2. Fibromyalgia affects mostly women & takes years to diagnose
  3. Bipolar misdiagnosis in women
  4. Executive dysfunction is real (not laziness!)
Uncategorized

Apparently, I’m the Mean Mom — For Enforcing the Deal She Made

JoLeave a comment

The Dishes, the Drama, and the Floor Dive That Saved the Day

‘woe is me’ – me probably being melodramatic

Let me set the scene:
I’m a chronic-illness, ADHD, bipolar, recently-hip-replaced mom trying to hold the household together with duct tape and sarcasm. My teen? Smart. Strong-willed. And currently convinced I’m the villain in her origin story.

And today? Today was The Dishes Incident™.

✋ Scene One: A Chore of Her Own Choosing

We don’t assign chores like a dictatorship around here. I made a list. She chose “dishes.” It was her idea.
Ten bucks a week. Seemed simple. No tricks, no traps. Just a job she picked herself.

Last night, after hours of computer time, I said: “It’s time.”


She said: “I’m tired.”


I said: “Fine. Tomorrow morning, before school.”


She said: “Okay.”

Agreement made. Terms accepted. Treaty signed.

⏰ Scene Two: The Deal Breaker

She woke up on her own at 5 AM — a miracle I did not question. Then she asked:

“Can I do them when I get home?”

Cue my calm-but-firm voice: “No. That’s not the deal.”
The deal. Her deal.

Enter: rage. Defiance. And the words that burn like fire even when you know they’re just teen flailing:

“I hate you! I want to go live with Grandma!”

Classic. Not the first time I have heard it and it wont be the last I’m sure but it guts me every time.

🐈 Scene Three: The Cat, the Crisis, and the Floor

Then I saw her on the living room camera… getting way too close to one of the cats. And a pit hit my stomach:
Was she looking for something to hurt because she was hurting?

the cat was like, ‘you broke the food lady’

I ran. Too fast. My hip screamed.
I told her: “If you need to hurt someone, hurt me. I’m the one you’re mad at.”

Then her dad got up.
And I — knowing better — told him what she said.

Cue: screaming. Yelling. Not listening. To me, nor each other.

So I did the only thing I could think of. I threw myself on the floor.
Literally. Like a one-woman protest movement.

It worked. Not proud of it. But it worked.
Because when words don’t reach them, drama sometimes does.

🫱 Scene Four: The Olive Branch (and the Laundry)

Later, I offered her a new deal.
The laundry. Every day. Not as punishment — as partnership.

Her dad won’t have to haul baskets up and down stairs.
I still can’t do them after surgery.
It’s a chance for her to contribute and feel capable again.

But just so we’re clear:
If she cooks it, she cleans it.
I may be flexible, but I’m not a doormat.

💬 What I’m Learning (Even When It Hurts)

Holding boundaries hurts sometimes.
Offering grace doesn’t always feel graceful.
Being the “mean mom” isn’t about being cruel — it’s about being consistent.

She sees me as mean today. We’ll see how she is when she gets home. We havent had a blow up like that in a while, sometimes she comes home apologetic, sometimes she doubles down.
Maybe one day she’ll see it for what it was: love that didn’t flinch, even when it limped.
Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other!