I used to think I had to choose between a clean house and a connected home. That if I couldn’t keep up with laundry, dishes, and dust bunnies, I was somehow failing. That belief? I’ve let it go. (Okay — I’m trying to let it go.)

Because here's the truth: I live with a teenager who has ADHD and anxiety. And while some people have tidy houses with well-labeled storage bins, I have a kitchen table covered in unfinished puzzles, fidget toys, and a few abandoned cups. I have half-folded laundry on the couch, shoes in the hallway, and a living room that doubles as a crash pad when emotions get too big.

It’s not Instagram-perfect. But it’s real. And it’s ours.

I never thought I'd be the mom planning a tropical getaway. But here we are—getting ready to take my teen on his first real trip for his birthday next year. It'll be an all-inclusive resort somewhere warm (still narrowing down the country), and it’s going to be a lot of firsts for both of us.

First time flying.
First time out of the country.
First time trying to relax while managing anxiety, sensory overload, and a kid who eats about five things total.

So yes, I’m excited. But also? I’m planning the heck out of it—because I want this trip to be a win for both of us.

You don’t need a village. You need the right people.

When people say “It takes a village,” I nod politely. But the truth is, not everyone has a village. Some of us are raising kids, managing meltdowns, juggling jobs, and trying to heal generational trauma — all without the safety net of family support.

If that’s you, I see you. And I want to remind you: You can still build your own community from scratch.

Two years. That’s how long we have before my son starts high school.
And yet… we’re already butting heads over where he’s going to go.

I thought we had time. I thought these conversations would come later. But here we are—debating school options, boundaries, bus routes, friend groups, and what really “matters” in a high school. Spoiler alert: we don’t always agree.

Teen boys are often caught in the in-between — no longer little kids, but not quite adults. They’re juggling school, friends, growing independence, and big feelings (even if they don't always show them). Wellness might not be at the top of their priority list, but this stage of life is the perfect time to build habits that stick.

Here’s how we approach wellness in our house — with grace, real talk, and a whole lot of patience.

Because Some Days, Just Getting Out the Door Feels Like a Victory

School mornings in a house with a neurodivergent teen? Let’s just say it’s not for the faint of heart. If your mornings look anything like mine, you’re juggling lost socks, emotional landmines, and a clock that seems to speed up every time you blink. And mood swings? They hit like pop quizzes — no warning and always at the worst time.

If your weeknights feel like survival mode, you’re not alone. Between school meltdowns, therapy appointments, and last-minute homework battles, making a fresh dinner every night just isn't happening in my house. That’s why Sunday meal prep saves me.

Let me say it louder for the moms in the back, the moms in the trenches, the moms crying quietly in the bathroom behind a locked door — You’re not failing. It’s just hard.

If you’re raising a teen with anxiety, you’ve probably had this moment:
You say something simple — “Hey, don’t forget your water bottle.”
And what you get in return is a massive eye roll, a sarcastic “I KNOW,” or full-blown snark.

Let me just start by saying this: no two days in our home ever look the same. ADHD has a way of throwing the plan out the window — even when I think I’ve nailed it. But here’s a peek at what a “typical” day might look like for us.

Because yes — teens can still have them.

Let’s just start here: teenage meltdowns are real. They’re not tantrums. They’re not “bad behavior.” And they’re not something they can just “grow out of.” For teens with ADHD and anxiety, meltdowns are often a sign that the world has become too loud, too fast, too much — and their brain just can’t process it all at once.

Let’s be honest—when you’re a mom, especially a solo one, “me time” can feel like a joke. Between school runs, work demands, meltdowns, therapy appointments, and just keeping everyone alive and fed, where exactly are we supposed to fit in wellness?

Raising a neurodivergent teen is like learning to dance on a moving floor—you never quite get your footing, but you learn to sway with the rhythm.