Just tripped over my son in a dark hallway. He said, “Turn light on. You can see better.” I was just schooled by my barely two-year old. This adulting thing is hard. It was hard enough before I had a tiny human to call me out on it. Parenting with ADD is a thing. Granted, our attention spans are roughly the same and I completely understand his energy and need to constantly move.
I left my phone in a desperate search to find my phone the other day. Yes, let that sink in for a second.
I think I use Find My Phone more than 99% of the population. I am afraid to track this, but it just might be true.
My name is Addison Messer. ADD MESS. Yup. About right.
Recently, I was on my way to a friend’s house and stopped at a red light. I looked back to check on my darling son and could only see two mis-matches socks. Did I really forget to put shoes on my son? Luckily, my forgetful self forgot to take his shoes out from a previous trip.
I go into every room roughly a bajillion times because I never remember why I went there. More steps on the Fit Bit right.
With all of this being said, it kind of helps my parenting. Sure, it makes some things more difficult, but having ADD as adult makes me have the energy of a manic puppy with a bone. My two-year old is more than happy to play chase for the umpteenth time this hour.
We also don’t have a schedule we are tied to. Sure, some things have a set agenda and we may have an overall plan of going to the zoo or park, but the adventures we pursue are limitless as long and Mommy remembers snacks.
Long and short. Parenting with ADD has challenges, but it is totally doable. Guess what you never forget: your baby’s needs. It just doesn’t happen. Guess what you do remember: that you love your kid more than anything in the world.
Side tangent. I was distracted 8 million times writing this posts and only one was by my son.