When most people hear ADHD, they picture a child bouncing off the walls, unable to sit still in class. Or maybe a kid who’s just won’t focus and who refuses to listen. I will be the first to admit that I also had some of these misconceptions. I remember a boy in my class at school 30 years ago who had the diagnosis, and he was basically written off by students and parents alike as hopeless and naughty, so that’s kind of what I thought ADHD meant. Now of course I realise that ADHD is so much more complex than just fidgeting or a lack of focus.
At its core, ADHD is about how the brain works. It isn’t about laziness or bad parenting. Kids with ADHD usually want to do well, but their brains process things differently to a neurotypical child. Imagine trying to read a book while a hundred TV channels are flicking on and off in your head at the same time. That’s how it can feel for them. They might lose track of instructions, leave homework half-finished, or burst into tears over something seemingly tiny simply because the day of trying to focus has just been too much.
But here’s the thing nobody says loudly enough: kids with ADHD often have incredible strengths. They can be wildly creative, funny, passionate, and so full of energy for life. Many are deeply compassionate because they feel everything so intensely. I’ve seen children with ADHD stand up for a classmate without a second thought because fairness really matters to them. Their sense of justice, their empathy, and their out-of-the-box thinking can be powerful gifts… if we recognise and celebrate them.
For parents, though, it’s not easy. The days can feel like a rollercoaster. You ask your child to do something simple, like take their pyjamas off in the morning, and suddenly you’re in the middle of a meltdown that you didn’t anticipate. You need to get to dance class on time, but your kid can’t find the ballet bag you just handed them two minutes ago. It’s easy to lose your patience (I’ve been there much more than once, believe me). But the truth is, they really need us to be able to keep our own emotions and patience in check in order for them to move forward.
A few things can help: break big tasks into tiny, manageable steps, keep routines as predictable as you can, give instructions one at a time, and praise effort even when the result isn’t perfect. Yelling rarely fixes anything (even when you’re running late). A hug or a quiet moment of calm often does more.
If you’re parenting a child with ADHD, please remember this: it isn’t your fault, and it isn’t theirs either. Some days will feel impossible. But with patience, understanding, and the right support, these kids can thrive. They don’t just need rules; they need cheerleaders. They need us to believe in them loudly, especially on the days when the world seems determined to tell them they’re failing.
Because at the end of the day, ADHD isn’t just about sitting still. It’s about helping our precious, wonderful kids stand tall.
Motherhood isn’t always what we imagine. This is the story of how I went from feeling like I was failing as a mum, to finding hope and strength again through ADHD parent coaching.
“I don’t want to be a mum anymore.” I knew as soon as the words left my mouth that I really needed some help. Parenthood wasn’t what I had expected or hoped for, and I wasn’t sure I was cut out for it after all. I felt like my world had come crashing down around me and frankly I just wasn’t happy anymore.
It hadn’t always been like this though. When my son was born, I kept waiting for the baby blues to hit and the newborn struggles to kick in. Before I had my child I had heard mothers say they sometimes couldn’t even shower for weeks on end, and a hot cup of coffee? Well, that was totally out of the question! Not for me though. A midwife in the hospital told me off for not waking my son up to feed him on night two of his life because he slept six hours through. At two weeks old, I was definitely showering every day and eating all my meals hot. At two months old my son went to a childminder as I had my own shop and I had to get back to work. He adapted seamlessly. She frequently told me he was the most chilled out baby she’d ever had.
I have to admit (as you can probably tell from reading this), I felt pretty smug. I was acing motherhood! I was made for this job. But despite all this, in the back of my mind there was always this little voice telling me that it was too good to be true. I don’t know why but I just always had the feeling my son was a little bit different from the rest, even if I tried to push that thought away as much as possible.
When my little Marley was seven months old, I found out I was pregnant again. With a shop to manage as well as a second job running a B&B, a relationship going through a very rocky patch and now a new baby on the way, life felt overwhelming.
My patience was thinner than usual, and my perfect baby boy seemed to be changing a little bit too. By ten months old, his chilled out vibe had been replaced by red rage which seemed to last most of the day. By a year old, I couldn’t take him to the supermarket anymore because his constant shrieks attracted too much negative attention. At 14 months I found myself googling if it was normal for the ‘terrible twos’ to start at one year old instead.
When Marley was 16 months old, his brother was born. If I thought things couldn’t get worse, I was wrong. My big boy stopped sleeping altogether and screamed all night until he was sick, every night. He hit, scratched and cried hysterically. It got so bad one night that I had to leave the house with the baby for a couple of days after whispering under my breath in the dark that I hate him. This night still haunts me, especially now that I understand what my son desperately needed at that time: for me to be there for him 100 percent, reminding him that my love is unconditional (even though I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t know if it was in that moment).
Walking through the town in the rain pushing my new baby in his pram, holding a plastic bag full of hurriedly packed clothes with tears running down my face, I wondered how this was my life. Some of my friends had already had second children and the photos they sent of their big kid beaming, proudly holding their new little sibling seemed to be so far from my reality. Was I the only one that didn’t have a perfect family life?
As the months went on life did get a little more manageable as we found our rhythm, but I still always felt I was treading on eggshells with my oldest son. I didn’t know when a meltdown would be triggered, and I dreaded going out with him. I desperately wanted to do all the mummy and toddler groups, but they usually ended in disaster. I still tried to force it though. I wanted the same parenthood experience as all the other mums and dads and that was my focus, rather than reflecting on what my son wanted.
Ambitiously when Marley was two and a half, I signed up for a six-week language and singing workshop. By the end of week two, it was clear we weren’t welcome anymore. The course leader and other parents didn’t try to hide their disdain as my son ran in circles around the room and punched me when I tried to stop him. I felt like the worst, most out-of-control parent in the world as I left crying once again, never to return. That night my partner asked me why I was insisting on going to these groups that my son clearly hated. “Maybe all he wants is to spend quality time with his mum?” he said. I wanted to argue but I couldn’t. He was right.
It was at this point I wanted to hand back my ‘mum’ title and pack it all in. I was failing my son, I was hating being a mother and it all just seemed totally hopeless. I knew I needed to put him first and that meant letting go of some expectations I had, but honestly I felt resentful about that. The motherhood dream I had was not my reality.
After initially seeing a psychologist who made a preliminary diagnosis of ADHD for my son, I decided to look for a family therapist to help us navigate this journey. It was during my search for one that I stumbled across a parenting coach advertising her services. I was a little bit sceptical but also desperate for solutions so I decided to get in touch. She explained that these sessions were just for me rather than my child, to help me work through my persoal parenthood challenges and find the joy in being a mother again. It sounded like exactly what was needed, so I took the plunge.
A couple of weeks into my parent coaching experience, I already felt lighter. In my first session my coach asked me to reflect on the positive things about my son. I realised I hadn’t ever really done that. And there are so many wonderful things about him. He is resilient, creative, funny, full of life, compassionate, loyal and unapologetically himself. I’d always wanted to be the latter, but never managed it.
At 35 years old, I was realising I had no true identity and was always moulding my opinions, desires and needs to please others – the total opposite of my fiesty son. After unpacking this with my coach, she suggested that my son was absolutely meant to be mine. He was here to get me out of my confort zone and teach me some fundamental lessons, as much as I was there to guide him in life and protect him.
And she was right. Two years later, my son still teaches me something every day. He still tests me like no other, but I have learnt so much about myself and life in general though parenting my little boy. He was indeed absolutely meant to be mine. He brings me so much happiness and fulfillment, and there is nothing I love more thant seeing his personality and interests develop.
I am far from the perfect parent, and I’m not sure I ever will be. But what I can do, is strive to be there for him every step of the way, and to be the best version of myself for him. I hope I will do him proud as his mum as we continue to move forward together in this life, because I can wholeheartedly say that it’s a true honour to be in this very special role.
Zen Parent ADHD Coaching 